The face looking back at him should have been full of remorse, and the strength of will to send temptation away. But what he saw, instead, was a man who looked stunned from having just unwrapped an unexpectedly beautiful gift.

From the moment Tatiana had appeared in his office on Friday night, her questions, her vitality, her laughter—hell, her sheer presence—had thrown him off again and again. Even now, he wasn’t sure he could trust himself to go back out into the bedroom and not take her just as rough, just as fast, just as desperately, when what she had really deserved was flickering candles, soft lights, romance...and tenderness.

He scrubbed a hand over his face, silently cursing himself for the bastard he was. For so long, he’d painted women—especially beautiful ones—with one brush. But he’d been wrong about Tatiana, so damned wrong about her not being as innocent as she seemed, simply because she was a famous actress.

And she’d been the one to pay for it.

“Ian.”

He lifted his head to find Tatiana standing in the bathroom doorway. He’d just had the intense thrill of putting his hands on her naked skin and knew how hot she ran, how soft every inch of her was. And yet as she stood before him now, with her gorgeous curves on display in the moonlight that came in through the window, he was stunned stupid by her beauty all over again.

“Are you all right?”

Shock that she was asking him that rather than the other way around made it impossible for him to find a quick answer. Before he could reply, she’d moved toward him and had put one hand on his cheek to soothe him.

“Because,” she said with a little smile that quickly grew big, “I feel great.”

Relief shot through him even as disbelief tried to push the selfish feeling away. “But you—”

“Really loved every moment of making love with you.” She went to her tippy-toes, and with her hand still on his cheek, pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I knew I’d like going to bed with you, but I didn’t know it would be like that,” she whispered against his earlobe as she wound her arms around his neck and pressed her naked curves against him. “So good. So overwhelming. So perfect.”

Previously, Ian would have assumed that this was all part of her calculated seductive act. He knew better now, knew her sensual words and manner were wholly natural, as much a part of who she was as her green eyes and her talent. And yet, somehow, for some reason, she’d held back her sensuality all these years.

But he knew the reason, didn’t he?

Tatiana had obviously remained a virgin because she’d been waiting for her prince to appear on a white steed.

But she’d ended up with him, instead.

“I was too rough.” And yet, even as he said it, he couldn’t keep from wrapping his arms more tightly around her. “I took you too fast.” As fast as his rock-hard erection pressing into her belly was now eager to take her again.

“I loved everything we did,” she insisted.

“You deserved slower, sweeter your first time.”

She tilted her head back to look up at him. “Then why don’t you give that to me now? And after, I’ll let you know which way I love more.”

Holy hell, he knew he should never have touched her in the first place. But considering he’d yanked her virginity away, didn’t he owe her some tenderness?

In the morning, there was no question that they would have to deal with what had happened tonight. But while the moon was up and she was naked and soft and warm in his arms, wouldn’t it be worse not to show her all the ways a man could—and should—worship her? And knowing just how responsive she was to even the slightest touch, how could he not want to teach her everything he knew about pleasure? Just the thought of it had him wanting to tie her to his bed and never set her free...

And since tonight was the first and last night he’d ever make love to her, he’d make damned sure every single second counted.

Slowly sliding his hands up from her lower back, he felt her muscles jump slightly beneath his gentle caresses up her spine, then over her shoulders and neck until he was framing her face in his hands.

“I should have started with this.”

He lowered his mouth to hers in a kiss that was barely more than breath and the faintest brush of lips against lips. He let himself taste her slowly this time, the delicious flavors of her lips, her tongue, her skin bursting into his system one by one. She was a potent combination of sweet sugar and exotic spice and he deepened the kiss until they were both straining to take air from each other’s lungs.

He could feel in the pliancy of her muscles how ready she was for him again. It would be so easy, too easy, to drag her back to his bed and take her. She was so eager, so responsive, that he knew he could be inside of her again before either of them had time to take more than a handful of breaths.

But he’d promised her slow and soft and sweet. And though he couldn’t give her his heart, he could, at the very least, give her the memory of a few hours of perfect pleasure.

Tearing his mouth from hers, he slid his hands over her shoulders and upper arms. Goosebumps rose over her flesh as he gently caressed her. “Are you cold?”

Her ni**les were hard points against his bare chest as she said, “A little. But I’m sure that if you take me back to bed, I’ll heat right back up again.”

Knowing the odds were extremely low that he’d be able to trust himself to go slow and soft once he got her back into bed, he decided to stay right where they were for a while longer.