“Wait,” he said behind her.
She stopped, turning around to face him. “What is it?” She tried to read his face, but the night hid his expression.
“Not into the light.” He moved back, under the cover of a palm tree.
Curious, she followed him into the shadows, sharing the concealing darkness with him like lovers might share a blanket.
“You take my breath away,” he whispered. His voice was low, barely audible under the rush of wind through the palm fronds. “I don’t know if this is such a good idea.”
“If what’s a good idea?” she asked. It was a stupid question. She knew with absolute certainty exactly what he meant.
“This.” He reached out, then stroked her cheek with the edge of his thumb. She trembled as he traced the contour of her face. Slowly, sensually, the movement of flesh against flesh ignited her blood, sending it to pool in her belly, her thighs.
“Oh.” Her voice shook. “That. Right. Of course.” She seemed to have lost control of her thoughts and voice. Never in her life had she experienced such a swell of longing for another person. Never before had she wanted to throw herself into a man’s arms and abandon rational thought to the sweet sensations generated by the press of his body against hers.
The swell of desire terrified as much as it excited Kyra. Her logical mind knew it was just chemistry. His pheromones calling to her pheromones. But that didn’t change the fact that she seemed to be teetering on the edge of a precipice, and if she lost her balance, she’d surely fall.
“Probably not a good idea at all,” she agreed, but didn’t move away.
“Probably not.” The deep rumble of his voice touched her in secret places, warming her soul. He didn’t stop touching her, and she closed her eyes, savoring the moment, afraid it would end and yet more afraid it would continue.
Almost unconsciously, she moved closer, seeking more of his heat. His finger traced the curve of her neck, then skimmed the edge of her collarbone. His free arm circled her waist, pulling her closer. She shivered, not from cold or fear, but from the flurry of uncontrollable sensations racing through her.
Her pulse beat against her throat, and she focused on slowing her racing heart, suddenly unsure and more than a little uncomfortable.
She didn’t know the woman standing under a tree with this mysterious stranger. Certainly that woman wasn’t the Kyra Cartwright she knew. Kyra Cartwright never did anything so…so…spontaneous.
But maybe this was the woman who needed a fantasy. Who needed an escape. Who needed to see what else life had to offer. Maybe this was the woman who’d gathered her courage and bought a vacation from Fantasies, Inc.
He leaned forward, his proximity dizzying. “Kyra?” His voice caressed her, his breath hot against her ear. “Tell me what you want.”
Lord help her, she wanted him. And the feelingwhipped through her like a hurricane—wild, untamed and terribly frightening.
She’d purchased a fantasy vacation that she’d assumed she could walk away from. A week of hedonism—or near hedonism, anyway—and then she’d be back to normal. This longing in her gut would be out of her system. And she’d go back to Harold and the rest of her life.
Was she an idiot? Had she been a fool to think she could just walk away?
She gnawed on her lip, her insides twisting, not at all sure that hedonism was her thing after all.
The wind lashed out as she broke free from his embrace, determined to batten down the hatches and ride out the storm raging inside her.
Gathering her courage, she drew in a fortifying breath, then reached up to capture his hand in hers. “I should go.”
He nodded, his sadness almost palpable, but his relief unmistakable. “Yes.” His lips curved in an ironic smile. “You should.”
She nodded, then started to back away. But before she could put any distance between them, he stepped forward. In one bold, possessive movement, he gripped the sides of her arms, gently, yet firmly. Her breath quickened as he closed the distance between them, every atom in her being telling her to put a stop to this right now, that he would lead her someplacedangerous. Dangerous for her heart, confusing for her head.
She needed to walk away but, heaven help her, she couldn’t.
She wanted it, and when his mouth closed over hers, she could only moan as her body melted into his.
* * *
HE WAS A JERK.
So much for respect, so much for chivalry, so much for all those social niceties his mother had tried so hard to drill into his head. Every single one of them had flown straight out the window. He’d kissed her, and damn it all, he didn’t regret it for a minute.
Her mouth moved under his, soft and sweet and delicious. She moaned, a sexy little noise in the back of her throat, and the sound just about undid him.
