Read Gemini Heat for Free Online Page B

dizzy. 'You're . . . You're not what I expected. I—'
    The rest wouldn't come out because great puffs of soft white light seemed to be exploding between her and de Guile. The morning heat was murder already, even in this air-conditioned haven, and suddenly it all seemed to swirl up and envelope Delia. She was definitely going to faint in the next few seconds, but just as the swaying started and the carpet seemed to tilt precariously, she felt herself being swept up off her feet and carried effortlessly across the width of the room. Almost before she could analyse precisely what had happened she was set down on a big squashy leather sofa that stood to one side in a kind of 'conversation' area; a set of opulent modern couches and armchairs arranged around a glass-topped coffee table, and standing by a breathtaking, window-on-the-city view. With her vision still impaired, much of this was lost on Delia, but in a couple of moments, she felt a glass of water being put against her lips, and a strong hand sliding behind her head, encouraging her to drink.
    Th water was cool and had a faint mineral sparkle -and it was this subtle effervescence that returned her to her senses. Blinking furiously, she managed to focus on the man who was now sitting beside her, his dark, besuited knees almost touching her bare and stocking-less ones.
    'All right now?' de Guile's light, velvety voice was as incredible as his looks. And as familiar. Delia had a manic, almost unbearable urge to ask him to say the word 'sublime' for her, but as her wits returned she thought better of it.
    'Yes, thanks, I'm fine now,' she said as calmly as she could. 'I'm sorry about what happened just now, Mr de Guile. It's this heat... I can't seem to get used to it.'
    'Mr de Guile?' Jet black eyebrows shot up in amusement - although for the life of her, Delia couldn't work out why. It was his name when all was said and done!
    'How formal we are today, Mizz Ferraro.' He chuckled quietly, then without warning reached out to take the glass from her shaking hand. When he'd put it aside, he took hold of the hand again, and ran his thumb in a slow, sensuous circle around the centre of her palm. 'So warm,' he whispered. 'But it doesn't say anything about this in your personnel file, Dee, does it?' The thumb stilled and slid away, and as it did de
    Guile raised her trembling hand to his lips and placed a kiss on the area he'd stroked.
    As moisture spread across the hot landscape of her palm, she felt it in other places too. Between her legs, her sex rippled against the soft constriction of the camiknickers, and though her mind seemed temporarily unable to function, her hormones were firing and flowing. De Guile's tongue moved and she moaned, transported instantly back to fantasy and the Prince. She was lying on a bed, her hot back pinned against silk, as the Prince pressed his face between her splayed thighs. The dream, and the sensations, were so real that she shuffled on the leather seat, unconsciously sliding her slim skirt up the naked length of her thighs. Making ready . . .
    'Mr de Guile! Please!' she squeaked, and snatched back her hand. He'd started sucking her palm and it felt obscenely erotic. 'I ... I thought I was here to talk about work . . . About my performance ratio . . .'
    'My sweet Dee,' he breathed against her hand, 'I know all I need to know about your performance.' He paused then and straigthened up, pulling off his golden glasses and placing them on the coffee table.
    Delia suppressed a gasp of surprise.
    In her sexual dreams, she'd always had the impression that the Prince had brown eyes - to match his coal-black hair and his richly swarthy skin. Jackson de Guile had both the dark, lustrous locks of her phantom lover, and his toasted coppery complexion -but she saw now that his eyes smashed the pattern completely. They were blue. Deep deep blue. The blue of a storm-tossed eastern ocean and glittering intensely.
    More than this, they were a curious shape