“But—”
“Go to bed.” He took the last letter from her and, grasping her hand, pulled her to her feet.
And right into his arms. That was his first mistake. His second was when he didn’t back up immediately. The heat of her body pressed to his ignited a flame so hot he couldn’t escape being burned through his clothing.
Her hands fluttered to his chest, her sky-blue eyes smoldering to gray. “I should go now.” But she didn’t make a move toward the door.
Nick didn’t bother to release her, his errant arms locking around her waist. Anger mixed with overpowering desire. “Damn it, Mary. You’re a complication.”
Her pretty brow furrowed. “No, I’m a woman.”
Her breathy response and the way she pressed against him only fueled the fire. “Which automatically makes you a complication.” He tipped her chin with his thumb, his gaze focusing on the plump swell of her lips. “I can’t get involved with subjects in my work.”
Her gaze left his and moved downward to his lips. “Who’s asking you to get involved?” Her fingers climbed up his chest to slip around his neck and feather into his hair. “I just want my dad back. I’m not promising you anything and I’m not asking for any other guarantees.” Pressure on the back of his neck drew him inexorably closer to her.
Damn the rules.
They were just guidelines anyway. He had to taste her, had to feel her lips on his just once more. “Good, because I don’t have any guarantees to give.” His mouth crushed hers, slanting across her lips, his tongue darting out to slide between her teeth and duel with hers. Anger, lust, passion and something more pushed him further.
His hands skimmed downward, cupping her buttocks, pressing her against the pulsing evidence of his quickly loosening grip on control. The solid ridge beneath his fly strained for release from the confines of his jeans.
How could he let her go now? How could he send her back across the hall to the safety of her room? She couldn’t be safe with him when he had only one thing on his mind, and it wasn’t tucking her in bed with a good night kiss.
He turned her, backing her against the mattress on his bed, until the backs of her legs hit and buckled. She sprawled across the bed, dragging him down with her.
Nick rolled to her side to keep from crushing her beneath his weight, and she rolled with him, their lips locked in a kiss that lasted until he remembered to come up for air.
When he did, his breath came in ragged gulps, his pulse leaping beneath his skin. “I’ve never wanted someone as much as I want you now.”
* * *
Nick’s words made Mary’s insides burn like a red-hot inferno, consuming her thoughts and destroying all common sense. When she should be pushing him away, she pulled him closer. Her mind had given up on its pathetic attempts to show her reason. Nick had secrets he’d never tell, and he was only passing through. He’d leave. She’d be heartbroken. The end.
But it wasn’t the end yet, and her body didn’t give a damn. It wanted satisfaction only Nick could give her. How long had it been since she’d made love with a man? Two years? She’d waited. hoping for someone who’d love her and whom she could love back. Someone who could be honest, no secrets, no lies to stand between them. Why had she fallen for someone who couldn’t tell the truth, couldn’t love her forever? Wouldn’t be around for tomorrow?
Why didn’t these thoughts stop her?
His hand cupped her chin and slid down her throat, pushing aside the collar of her sweater. His lips followed the path of his fingers.
Suddenly, Mary felt suffocated by the heavy turtleneck sweater she’d worn for their clandestine mission to her dad’s basement. She reached for the hem, dragging it up over her belly.
A large hand stopped hers. “Are you sure? Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
“I’m sure.” From stark uncertainty to positive confirmation, she made up her mind. If this was a one-night stand, so be it. A woman had to grab for happiness when it came. Damn the consequences. Her hand paused beneath her breasts. “Before we do, tell me two things.”
His lips twitched. “If I can.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You better.”
He nodded.
“You don’t have a wife hiding somewhere in the lower forty-eight states, do you?”
“What?” His eyes widened, his surprise evident. “No. I don’t.”
“Promise?” she asked.
“Scout’s honor.”
