Free Her Singapore Fling by Kelly Hunter Page B

his mouth and now she wanted more because it hadn’t been enough.
    Not nearly enough.
    Would it be wrong to pleasure herself in Jacob’s bed while thinking of him? Cursing him? Would she be able to look him in the eye tomorrow and not have him instantly know what she’d done?
    Did she even care if he guessed what she’d been doing in his bed?
    Come three a.m. and still wide awake, Jianne finally bowed to her body’s demands.
    Apparently she did not.
    Â 
    Jianne took Jacob’s cue the following morning and came downstairs between karate classes, dressed for work in a modest skirt and lightweight top. Jacob nodded pleasantly enough as she entered the kitchen. He appreciated her not coming downstairs until she was fully dressed and ready to go each morning. It spoke of a consideration for his work and of not wanting to disrupt it and that was exactly what he wanted from her. Exactly how she should approach dojo living.
    Only a madman would look at her all buttoned up for the day and curse her for not coming down those stairs a little less well put together. Only a man bent on self-torture would wish that she’d turn up for breakfast looking sleepy eyed and sated. Well pleased with whatever had transpired through the night.
    He remembered that look about her. She’d worn it a lot in the early days of their marriage. The latter days too. Jianne might have been a fragile dynasty princess in so many of her ways but she’d also been the most sensual and uninhibited lover Jacob had ever known. A woman so attuned to his needs and darkest desires that no one else had ever come close to satisfying him the way she had.
    Jacob watched through narrowed eyes as Jianne walked over to the counter and switched on the kettle. She reached up to the kitchen shelf for a sturdy coffee mug. He didn’t have any delicate china teacups.
    Yet.
    She turned and smiled at him politely, every inch the poised and perfect house guest. No trouble, no trouble at all. Until something flickered in her eyes, something stolen and sensual and altogether familiar. If Jacob wasn’t mistaken, here stood a woman who’d sought sexual satisfaction in the dark of the night. And found it.
    What the hell had she been doing in his bed?
    â€˜Tea?’ she asked politely, and when he sat back in his chair and glared at her she raised a delicate brow and smiled a sinner’s smile before turning her back on him and reaching for the tea tin.
    Jacob’s opportunity for retaliation came fast on the heels of his rising ire and his rising libido. Jianne couldn’t quite reach the tin that sat on the highest of the two kitchen shelves, not without climbing on the kitchen bench, which she was, it seemed, prepared to do. He eased to his feet, no hurry, no trouble, and when he got to her he boxed her in with his body and reached up for the tea tin. ‘Sleep well?’ he murmured.
    â€˜Not really. The neon lights outside are driving me insane.’
    â€˜Princess.’
    â€˜Just because you can sleep in a room that’s lit up like a carnival ride,’ she muttered. ‘Sadist.’
    â€˜Me?’ That was rich, coming from her. ‘Me?’ He leaned in close and put his lips to her ear. ‘Hey, you’re the one who’s been up there doing the naughty all by yourself, princess. Did you think I wouldn’t notice? Or that I wouldn’t spend the rest of the day wondering exactly how you helped yourself and where? To my way of thinking that makes you the sadist, not me.’
    â€˜Such a vivid imagination,’ she murmured. ‘Do you really think I would do such a thing? In your bed or your shower or maybe even in your reading chair?’ She tut-tutted him next and pressed a stern forefinger to his lips in a gesture guaranteed to drive him insane. ‘I have two words for you, sensei.’ Two words and a world full of sensual challenge in her eyes. ‘Prove it.’
    If Po