Dante slid onto the back seat and held out his hand to assist Rebekah. No doubt his sophisticated mistresses were experts at climbing elegantly into cars, she thought ruefully, but her high heels somehow got tangled in her long skirt so that she tripped and landed practically in his lap. ‘Steady,’ he said with a soft laugh, as though he thought she was so eager to be in his arms that she’d deliberately thrown herself on top of him. Flushing hotly, she tried to edge away, but he pulled her against him and claimed her mouth in a sensual kiss that left her breathless and trembling when he finally lifted his head. She felt a strange sense of unreality. Dante had dominated her thoughts from the day she had met him, and she could hardly believe she was in his arms and he was trailing a line of kisses down her neck to capture the pulse beating erratically at its base. She had imagined moments like this so often, and had indulged in erotic daydreams that Dante was running his hands over her body.
