Chapter 18

"What's the matter Belle? Has the cat got your tongue?" Christian's upper lip curled playfully as Belle opened and closed her mouth. The young nurse could not begin to comprehend why or how that subtle touch had words evaporating from her mind. That simple graze had turned her immobile, ablaze and needy. A blush crawled from the base of her neck, decorating her creamy skin with a light pink. She regretted having her hair in a ponytail that day; her face was left exposed.

"Beautiful." Christian traced his hand over the pink blush that spread on her skin. She was warm against the back of his hand, soft with no make-up on. Make-up and those stupid long lashes that made ladies look like Christmas trees were two things the man despised.Up until Isabelle, he had not fucked any woman who did not have make-up. He liked the natural look on her, just a little lip gloss on her lips.

Isabelle cleared her throat. "Mr. Black."

She forced the utterance, avoiding eye contact with him.

"She speaks."