“Want me to help you with that?” he asked.
Tears burned her eyes. As hard as this was, the twinkling lights and fire crackling in the hearth brought warmth to her heart.
“Sure.” She forced a smile and twisted to hand him the star.
He didn’t accept the ornament. Instead, he gripped her waist and lifted her easily so she could reach the top of the seven-foot tree. The sudden movement made her giggle with surprise. She instantly blushed. “You’re going to hurt yourself!”
“Not if you hurry up and put that thing up there already.”
She chuckled, stretched high, and secured the star on the top of the tree. He lowered her carefully. Heat continued burning her cheeks as she tucked her hair behind her ear.
He wore a red sweater with a reindeer on it that readGet Buck Wild. “What on earth are you wearing?”
He tugged at the material. “It’s festive. Don’t you like it?”
She laughed and rolled her eyes. “You’re ridiculous.” But she knew he was wearing it to make her smile.
His eyes swept over her fitted black sweater and back up to meet her face. She’d made more effort to look presentable since he arrived. Once the semester ended, all she’d wanted was to come home and spend her break makeup free in pajamas. The minute Roarke had shown up, those plans had gone out the window.
“It looks nice in here,” he said, nodding. “Pretty.” His gaze was still on her face, though.
A sizzle of yearning started low in her abdomen. She swallowed, unable to tear her gaze from his wide shoulders and the way the goofy sweater nearly split at the seams encasing his biceps.
Her mouth went dry. It’d been so long since she was with a man. Over a year. She’d always had a bit of a crush on Roarke. Hell, who wouldn’t? The guy was a walking G. I. Joe.
But until right now, she’d never entertained that thought for more than a second. Ollie would’ve been livid at the idea of the two of them together, and with Roarke’s dangerous work she couldn’t handle the pain of losing him. The spiced rum swirled in her belly, heating her body.
She needed to break away. To defuse the chemistry arcing between them. It was dangerous. Reckless. Yet, she couldn’t move an inch.
He cupped her cheek. “Christ, Lainie,” he murmured, each syllable a tortured symphony.
She rolled her lips together. The urge to rise onto her tiptoes and kiss him was almost too great. She leaned into his palm and rested her hand on his chest. “I’m glad you came home,” she whispered.
Heat radiated from his body.
“I need to step back, Lainie ...” His throat bobbed. “I just fucking can’t.”
She blinked, and her breath caught.
“Tell me to stop,” he said, his eyes filled with pain and struggle.
She wanted him to touch her. Wanted his lips on hers. God, she wanted everything she shouldn’t. “I can’t do that. I want you.”
She surged onto her toes and hooked her hand around his neck. “I just want to feel something, Rogue.”
As if the use of his callsign undid him, his lips sealed against hers. Fire scorched through her mouth as his tongue slipped expertly between her teeth. Need pulsed along her nerve endings. She groaned and pressed her chest against the wall of his abdomen.
His erection hardened against her waist, making her panties agonizingly wet. His fingers channeled through her hair and her scalp tingled.
“Roarke,” she mumbled through kisses. “I want you.”
His hands swept to the backs of her thighs and lifted her off the ground. Laine wrapped her arms around his neck, reveling in the ease with which he held her. He walked several steps forward until her back bumped the wall next to the Christmas tree.
His hands slipped beneath the material of her sweater and touched the skin of her waist. She moaned, needing his fingers everywhere on her. She grabbed the hem of her sweater and started lifting the garment.
He caught her wrist. His grip was firm, without an ounce of sensuality. “Lainie. Laine. Stop.” The use of her real name after her nickname was like a bucket of ice water hitting her.
She lowered her hands to rest on his forearms. “What’s wrong?” Embarrassment flamed her cheeks and moisture stung her eyes.
