The Wedding Bed (The Sun Never Sets, Book One) by Ava Archer Payne

serve both herself and Derek, the pair hadn’t moved, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. He could tease her all he liked, but some standards needed to be set. She leaned forward and hissed, “It is highly indelicate of you to bring that up.”
    Derek set down his fork. Seconds ticked past. Keeping his gaze locked on hers, he leaned back in his chair and uttered a single word. “Dismissed.”
    The servants removed themselves from the room.
    “Nicely done,” Calla said, making no attempt to disguise her irritation. “In the future, might I suggest you dismiss the servants before you broach such an intimate topic?”
    “I was referring,” he returned coolly, “to our wedding vows, nothing more.”
    She blinked. “Our vows?”
    “ As delightful as last night was, I do know better than—how did you put it?—to broach such an intimate topic before the servants.”
    Calla’s embarrassment soared to new heights. “Oh. I…see.”
    He leaned his elbows on the arms of his chair and steepled his hands, idly drumming together the pads of his fingertips. “Though I must admit, I find it highly enlightening that your thoughts would take such a deliciously carnal bent. Most intriguing. I wonder what other deviant ideas are whirling through that mind of yours. Perhaps you’d care to share them with me.”
    Determined to retain the last shred of her dignity, she brought up her chin and said, “I don’t have any deviant ideas.”
    “ Really? I do. Several deviant ideas, in fact. A few that might be considered debauched, perhaps even depraved.”
    He pushed back his plate and reached for her. He caught her wrist and idly brushed his thumb over the silky inner skin. Her pulse jumped, then began to hammer erratically.
    “How do you do that ?” she asked, her voice registering a mere notch above a whisper.
    “Do what?”
    “Make my pulse race with just a single touch.”
    A smoldering intensity entered his steel gray eyes. Moving with infinite gentleness, he drew her from her seat and pulled her to him, positioning her so that she stood with her legs between his thighs. As he had remained in his seat, she had the temporary advantage of height, but she wasn’t sure how to use it. Feeling absurdly self-conscious, she brought her hands down to rest on his broad shoulders.
    As she’d predicted, the frosty air surrounding him earlier had evaporated. His body radiated heat. He smelled faintly of leather and soap, combined with the rich, musky scent of his shaving cream. Intoxicating. Calla had no other word for the impact he had on her senses. The man’s very presence was enough to set her mind spinning. She stood motionless, waiting with breathless anticipation for him to move, for him to break the spell he wove around her.
    Finally, he did. He leaned forward and pressed his mouth against her chest, nuzzling the shadowy cleft between her breasts. Then he moved higher, lip lips tracing a light path along her collarbone. His kisses sent an odd response roiling through her—a feeling that was part tickle, part tension. As divine as the sensation was, a small part of her held fast to propriety. It wasn’t appropriate to allow Derek to touch her that way. Not in broad daylight. She might be thoroughly unschooled, but even she knew that much. Everyone knew that much.
    “We should stop,” she protested softly.
    “ Do you want me to?” His breath fell warm and soft against her skin.
    “Absolutely.”
    She felt, rather than saw, his smile. “Absolutely yes, or absolutely not?”
    In answer, s he gave a low, dreamy purr and tilted her chin to allow him greater access to her throat.
    H e nuzzled her neck, then his fingers curled around the shoulders of her gown. He gently tugged the fabric lower.
    S tartled, she reached up to stop him. “What about the servants?”
    “What about them?”
    “They might disturb us.”
    “Not if they value their lives.”
    Her gown and chemise pooled about her waist, leaving her naked