Free A Breathless Bride by Fiona Brand Page B

next instant they were plunged back into pitch-blackness.
    Panic burned through Sienna as she pulled off her remaining shoe, tossed it on the deck along with her evening bag, and gingerly felt her way to the edge of the decking. Hitching her dress up, she climbed into the garden, picking her way through a collection of rocks and succulents, to find Constantine. Lightning flickered again, illuminating him as he pushed into a sitting position.
    “Where am I?”
    She grabbed his arm. “In the garden.”
    He rubbed at his jaw, making her feel instantly guilty. That was the second time she had hit him in the same spot.
    “Figures.”
    Bracing her arm around his waist she helped him up, staggering under his weight.
    Her dress was catching on the spiky leaves of some tropical flower. Something both crunchy and soft squished under her bare foot. Not a plant.
    They stepped onto cool, damp grass. Constantine’s arm tightened around her waist, tucking her firmly against his side, until they made their way to a line of solar garden lights that illuminated a path. Seconds later they climbed a shallow series of steps back onto the veranda.
    From the controlled tautness of his muscles, the smooth way he moved, Sienna had a sudden suspicion that Constantine no longer needed her support, if he had ever needed it at all.
    The click of a door latch punctuated the now distant rumble of thunder. Groping for reference points in the darkness, Sienna’s fingers brushed over the smooth painted surface of a doorframe.
    Another step and she was inside, her bare feet sinking into thick carpet. The door slammed, cutting off sound. The darkness was warmer and hushed here, scented with the springlike freshness of flowers and a rich undernote of leather. It did not smell like a working environment. “Where are we?”
    “My private suite. The study is just down the hall.”
    Constantine leaned back against the door. Sienna’s hand shot out, landing on the taut muscles of his abdomen. His arm tightened around her waist, sealing her against the seductive heat of his chest, and she was made shiveringly aware that Constantine was showing no inclination to move.
    Resisting the counterproductive urge to stay put, Sienna disentangled herself and stepped free. She was now certain that, apart from his initial dazed state, there was nothing wrong with Constantine. She peered into the stygian darkness and injected a note of briskness into her voice. “Tell me where you keep a flashlight or candles.”
    “There’s a flashlight in the bedroom.”
    She was not falling for that one. “In that case you can stay here. I’m going to get help.”
    And right after she found one of Constantine’s minions, she would call for a taxi. He would have all the help he needed. There would be no need for her to come back and check on him.
    His fingers locked with hers in the darkness, anchoring her in place. “I don’t need help.”
    Lightning flashed through the leaded sidelights on either side of the door, illuminating the darkening bruise on Constantine’s jaw.
    She inhaled sharply. “I did hurt you.”
    “Tell me about it,” he murmured and drew her toward him.
    His mouth came down on hers, his lips warm and unexpectedly soft. Suddenly, leaving was not an option. Lifting up on her toes, she wound her arms around his neck and returned the kiss with interest. Any idea that Constantine was truly hurt or vulnerable dissolved. If he had been stunned by the fall, clearly the effects had worn off because he was fully aroused.
    Long minutes later, he lifted her into his arms, negotiated the hall and carried her into a darkened room, his night vision unerring as he located a couch and set her down on it.
    As she went to work on the buttons of his shirt, she felt the zipper of her dress release, then the fastening of her bra. Another long, searing kiss and Constantine peeled both garments away.
    Lightning, paler and more distant now, flickered as he jerked his tie free and