Untouched Until Marriage by Chantelle Shaw

the immoral slut he clearly believed she was. ‘You make me feel things I’ve never felt for any other man,’ she admitted huskily.
    Raul’s self-control wavered at Libby’s breathy confession, and the temptation to seize her back in his arms and pull her down onto the grass—to take her hard and fast, as his body was screaming at him to do—almost overwhelmed him. Almost—but not quite. Nostrils flaring with the effort of dragging oxygen into his lungs, he stepped away from her and watched her dispassionately as she dragged the bodice of her dress up to cover her breasts. There was a way he could have everything his heart desired: control of Carducci Cosmetics, and this sultry green-eyed witch in his bed. He would be a fool not to seize his chance.
    â€˜In that case my proposition is even more tenable,’ he said softly.

CHAPTER SIX
    â€˜W HAT do you mean?’ Libby gave a sudden shiver, her skin quickly cooling now that she was no longer in Raul’s arms. ‘What proposition?’
    He saw the tremor that ran through her and frowned. ‘You’re cold. Here—put this on.’ He shrugged out of his jacket, draped it around her shoulders and caught hold of her hand to lead her firmly across the lawn. ‘We’ll continue this discussion inside.’
    Libby would have preferred not to hold a post-mortem on the shockingly wanton way she had responded to him, but Raul’s fingers were gripping hers like a vice and she had no option but to hurry alongside him. She burrowed into the jacket, which was still warm from his body and carried the faint scent of his cologne. She had forgotten to collect her shoes, but when they reached the drive and she picked her way cautiously over the gravel he scooped her into his arms and carried her up to the house.
    He strode across the hall and into his study, and set her down on her feet before crossing the room and taking a bottle from the drinks cabinet. ‘Would you like a whisky? It will warm you up.’
    When she shook her head he poured himself a drink and swallowed the amber liquid down in one gulp. She sensed his fierce tension and stared at him in confusion. ‘What proposition?’ she asked again.
    Raul swung round to face her, his dark eyes unfathomable. Ever since the idea of marrying Libby as a way to claim full control of CC had stolen into his mind he had thought of little else. The arguments for and against such a monumental decision had given him a sleepless night and had tormented him all day, so that he had barely been able to concentrate on the crucial board meeting.
    He did not want to marry again. Once had been enough, he thought grimly, remembering his bitter divorce from his first wife. He valued his freedom, and was reluctant to sacrifice it, but he valued Carducci Cosmetics above anything—and there would be compensations to taking Libby as his bride, he acknowledged, as he slid his eyes down from her face to her pale shoulders and then lower still to the soft swell of her breasts revealed by the plunging neckline of her dress. She was so very lovely. Just looking at her evoked a dull ache in his gut, and he realised that he no longer cared that she had been Pietro’s mistress; the chemistry between them was too strong to be denied.
    And there was another important reason to marry her. Gino needed a father. Libby had stated that she would not bring him up with a succession of ‘uncles’, but it was unrealistic to expect that she would not have a relationship until the baby was older—and Raul found that he hated the prospect of watching from the sidelines while the little boy called another man Papa.
    Libby’s big blue-green eyes were locked on him, and he knew she was waiting for him to speak. ‘I think we should get married,’ he said abruptly. ‘What?’
    She must have misheard him, Libby told herself dazedly. Either that or this was his idea of a