A boxwood hedge surrounded the garden and divided it into four distinct areas with a circular area in the center where a marble fountain bubbled.

Belle stood there now, staring at the fountain’s intricate carving in the dim glow of the gas lanterns high overhead.

She trailed her fingers along the lip of the pool at the bottom of the fountain, then wandered down the brick path, toward the herb garden. She bent to rub mint leaves between her fingertips, drawing Jared’s gaze to the length of her legs.

He wanted to wrap those legs around his waist as he lifted her up against a wall and found out what exactly she was wearing under that little skirt.

Still moving, she entered what was the rose garden in the summer, now filled with potted poinsettias of every color. From there, she wandered through the perennial garden, until she came to Jared’s favorite section, the topiary garden. Tyler took care of the topiaries himself. He hated when the gardeners messed with his trees.

Belle leaned in to sniff a fragrant rosemary bush forced into the shape of a heart, and he wanted to bend her over the nearest bench and sink his aching cock into her.

“Did you have anything to do with the garden?” she asked, not looking at him.

He chuckled at the thought. “No. My…ah…One of the owners designed it, actually.”

“It’s gorgeous. You should be very proud of your brother’s work.”

Well, shit. Someone had ratted him out. Probably one of the other men she’d danced with tonight. Too bad. He’d enjoyed having someone treat him like a normal person for a change. He wondered if she was going to go bubbleheaded on him now.

“I take it someone gave you an earful.” He moved closer to see her expression.

“Oh, yes.” She faced him, nodding solemnly. “Several of the men I danced with were quick to point out why I didn’t want to get involved with someone like you.” She smiled and something uncoiled in his chest. She wasn’t going to take their advice. “I understand why you did it. It’s nice to be someone else for the night, isn’t it?”

He nodded, wondering who she wanted to be. He couldn’t think of anyone he’d rather spend time with at this moment. “Yeah, it is.”

“It’s a new year.” She winked at him. “You can be anyone you want tonight.”

Breaking out in laughter, Belle released the velvet shawl she’d wrapped around her shoulders, which caught on her wings before slithering to the ground. “It’s not even cold out here. That glass ceiling is magnificent. Was the courtyard enclosed when the hotel was built?”

Forcing himself to go slow, he walked to the wrought-iron bench nearest Belle and sank onto the plush cushions. The bench sat in a shadowed corner behind one of the larger topiaries. Anyone passing through the garden would never see him.

“No, we installed that in the renovation.” Then, because he couldn’t stand to have her so far away, he asked, “Are you sure you’re not cold? It can get chilly out here in the winter.”

She wiggled a finger at him. “I have to be careful around you. You’re a charmer. And no, I’m not cold. I want to look around a little more.”

She turned her back on him and wandered down the path, stopping to admire a statue of two lovers entwined in a kiss.

“Mmm.” Belle’s voice sounded even more seductive in the near-dark. “I could stay out here all night, but then I wouldn’t get to sleep in that decadently huge bed in my room.” She flashed him a look that burned, then sent her gaze over the garden again. “You look comfortable.”

He quirked a brow at her. “Why don’t you come over here and I’ll show you just how comfortable I am.”

Her lovely face tilted to the side as if she were contemplating his request. Then she smiled and walked back to him. Easing onto the cushion beside him, she tried to recline, but her wings got in the way.

Presenting him with her back, she asked, “Would you mind?”

“Not at all.”

After a quick assessment of how they were attached, Jared freed her from the wings, dropping them to the ground at his side.

“You’re entirely too good at that.” She tried to turn, but he placed his hands on her shoulders, mesmerized by that expanse of creamy white skin.

“And your skin is so soft,” he whispered against her neck.

A chime sounded from inside the building and the faint roar of a crowd reached them.

He leaned closer, let his lips caress her ear as he said, “Happy New Year, Belle.”

She shivered against him, though he was pretty sure she wasn’t cold. Her skin felt warm beneath his hands and he leaned in until his nose almost touched the curve of her neck. Her hair fell away as she tilted her head to give him access.

Drawing in a deep breath, her fragrance made his heart pound. He loved the way women smelled. Some spicy and heady, others light and delicate. Each one different. Yet underneath it, similarities.

Belle sighed and that tiny sound broke the control he’d been exerting since he’d asked her out here.

Lowering his mouth to the tender spot where her shoulders and neck joined, he surprised her by nipping the skin there. She gasped, the sound stroking along his libido.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her against him. The next kiss he placed on her neck wasn’t as soft as the first, and he wasn’t surprised when she pulled away.

But then she turned in his arms and slid her arms around his neck. With a growl, his control snapped and he lifted her over his lap.

She straddled him, her knees on either side of his thighs, and dropped her mouth back on his, her hands on his shoulders.

This kiss held none of his usual finesse, but it served the purpose. Her mouth opened at his urging, letting his tongue slide into her warmth, teasing along her tongue.

She wasn’t at all hesitant about kissing him back, and her eagerness made his cock throb. As if she’d felt it, she lowered herself that last vital inch and settled her mound against his erection.

Heat flowed from that point, and she broke away, gasping. Her eyes opened and stared into his, bemused but hungry.

With a grin curling the corners of her mouth, she slid her hands from his shoulders to the short hair at his nape. Scraping her nails along his neck until his skin tingled and broke out in gooseflesh, she settled another millimeter closer on his lap.

He leaned in to kiss her again and ran his hands down her arms—noticing now that her skin felt cool. He leaned back, trying to break the kiss. But she wouldn’t let him. She followed, nipping at his lips, until he kissed her again.

“You’re cold,” he whispered in her ear as his hands rubbed up and down her arms. He bit the lobe then blew lightly over it, feeling her shiver.

“Really?” She shivered again, but he didn’t know if it was from the chill or a belated reaction. Her eyes remained closed, her breath coming in short gusts. “I feel like I’m on fire.”

So did he. Every nerve ending flared with pleasure, making him want to rush instead of savor. There was something about this woman, something that made him lose his edge.

Yes, he wanted her. Possibly more than he’d wanted a woman in a very long time.

And he was going to have her.

Releasing her, he sat forward to shrug off his tuxedo jacket and wrap it around her shoulders.

She smiled as he leaned back then settled her hands on the soft white cotton of his shirt. Without a word, she stroked downward along the fabric, making him want to shed his shirt so she could put her hands on his skin.

And speaking of skin…

He set his hands on her hips, giving them a squeeze before letting them glide up over the tight, silky material of the dress to the point at which her breasts began to overflow. Trailing his fingers over the pale mounds, he watched as she arched into his hands.

Whatever restraint he’d had left blew apart at that second, and he molded his hands to her breasts with one purpose. Since the dress was fashioned like a corset that lifted her breasts but didn’t cover them, a filmy green material had kept her decent all night. Now, he pulled that material away to reveal ruddy nipples, already hard.

He bent to take one in his mouth, sucking on the firm tip and rubbing his tongue on the pebbled flesh. She moaned and his cock hardened into a thick shaft, aching for her touch. But he knew if she did, this would be over too soon, and that was unacceptable.

She had to come first. At least once, if not twice. Those were his rules.

With one hand holding her breast to his lips, he let the other graze back down her side to her thighs, where he burrowed under her skirt.

He felt the heat of her pussy against his fingertips as they brushed against the slick material. She was already wet. He groaned against her breast, strung a series of hard kisses across her chest, and set on the other nipple.

The hand at her mound turned to cup her through her panties, and he felt the bare skin of her ass as she attempted to get closer.

A thong. So easy to get rid of.

The heat in his body turned into a raging fire that wiped out everything but the need to get inside this woman. To make her come, to have her enclose his cock in her wet heat until he exploded.

Since she seemed to be on the same page, he set aside the rational part of his brain that wanted him to slow down and gave in to the impulsive urge he usually kept on a short leash.

The hand on her ass stroked across her soft skin, making her moan again. Except this sounded more like a purr. With each stroke, he got closer to his goal until finally his fingers brushed against the wet fabric.