“I forgot about that. How about tomorrow?”
“What about Linda?”
“Linda and I are friends.”
“Clay, I won’t deny going out with you is tempting, but I don’t want to get involved with a man like you. We just don’t want the same things out of life.”
“How do you know what I want out of life?”
Ellie didn’t answer. She walked around him and ducked into the low opening of a reconstructed tomb. Clay ducked in behind her. It was dark and cool inside.
“I know you feel something for me,” Clay said, pressing her up against the rough stone wall. “I can see it in your eyes.”
“You’re wrong.”
“Go out with me.” He braced a hand on each side of her, blocking her escape.
“No.”
“You want to. I know you do.” Using his weight to keep her in place, he caught her chin, leaned down and kissed her. Ellie tried to turn away, but when he deepened the kiss. Her lips parted with a soft purr of pleasure and her rigid posture relaxed. Ellie slid her arms around his neck and kissed him back, and God, she tasted good, tasted like honey in spring.
His body responded, making him hard, aching to have her. He couldn’t remember wanting a woman so badly.
When Clay deepened the kiss, Ellie didn’t care if she ever moved away from exactly where she stood. Clay felt big and solid against her, his lips soft, yet firm and insistent. Her limbs felt weak and shaky, and desire curled low in her belly.
When Clay’s hands moved to caress her breasts through her white cotton blouse, heat spiraled out through her body. She wanted more, wanted to see where the heat would take her.
If they were someplace else, she would go to bed with him and hang the consequences. She was tired of being untouchable, tired of waiting for God only knew what.
Clay trailed kisses along the side of her neck, then returned to her mouth, softly coaxing, then kissing her deeply again. His hand moved down her body to cup her bottom, pulling her more solidly against him, and she could feel his erection.
What would it be like to make love with him? Linda Gibbons enjoyed it, that much was plain. Thinking of Linda and Clay together the night before hit her like a bucket of cold water.
Ellie pushed hard on his chest, ending the kiss. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m...I’m sorry I let things go so far.” She ducked through the opening before he could stop her, but he caught her just outside.
“How can you be sorry?” He seemed incredulous, then his features turned dark. “There was nothing wrong with what we did. It was what we both wanted.”
“It’s not what I want.”
“Damn it, what do you want? Do you want to go on aching for sexual release, as it’s obvious you are?”
Ellie flushed. “I get all the sexual release I need,” she lied. “Now go away and leave me alone.”
“I don’t believe you. It’s obvious you haven’t been laid in weeks. Come back with me to the hotel.”
“Are you out of your mind? Two days ago, you were in bed with Linda!”
“Don’t you understand? It isn’t Linda I want—it’s you! And even if you won’t admit it, you want me, too.”
“Go away! Why can’t you just leave me alone?” Turning away, she dashed for the stairs, brushing a tear from her cheek. The man was incorrigible. He was making herhappylife miserable.
If he weren’t such a womanizer, she’d just have sex with him and get it over with. She was twenty-four years old. There was no such thing as a twenty-four-year-old virgin. If Clay found out, he’d laugh in her face.
As soon as the Paris show was over, she was going to find a lover. It was time she grew up. There was bound to be someone out there who would initiate her gently.
Someone who didn’t sleep with a different woman every other night!
CHAPTER ELEVEN
