"No."
"You're afraid."
"I'm not afraid of anything."
"Then prove it by kissing me."
"I don't want to kiss you."
"Liar," he chuckled, drawing her inexorably closer. She struggled, fingers clutching at his black leather jacket. He was dressed all in black, the unrelieved color giving him a dark and dangerous look that had her heart pounding.
"Please let go of me. You're making things difficult for me, and I happen to love my job. Find someone else to play your sick games with. And leave me out of it."
His smile faded at that, and she watched as his eyes turned to flint. "You think I'm playing a game?"
"How else would you explain this, this thing you're doing?" she cried in frustration. "I am not your type. Admit it."
"No, you're not."
She sucked in a breath and refused to allow herself to be hurt by his bluntness. "There you go."
"Which is why I'm confounded," he continued harshly as if she had not said anything. "I tried to stay away, I even tried taking someone to bed, but you've ruined all of that for me." His fingers dug into her flesh as he drew her closer. "I tried to stay away from you by telling myself that this would pass, that what I feel for you did not make bloody sense. But I can't." His voice dropped to a whisper, his eyes going to her lips.
"I want you so much that I cannot sleep. And when I close my eyes even for a second, I see you. I breathe you in. You're inside me. I cannot stop thinking of you, cannot stop wanting you." He shook her. "It's like a fever inside me, one I cannot rid myself of. Do you think I want to feel this way?" He shook her again, his expression one of bitter frustration. "I have to have you."
His head descended and she was powerless to stop his lips from claiming hers. His words had left her paralyzed, shaken to the core. She couldn't fight him. She had tried and failed. Now she just wanted to feel his lips on hers. God help her.
He kissed her with all the pent-up frustrations he had been experiencing since the moment he met her. His mouth covered hers, tongue sliding in to taste her addictive sweetness.
He had arrived home late last night and after spending a restless night tossing and turning in bed, he had given up on getting some sleep and decided to go for a ride. Imagine his surprise when he saw her approaching from his vantage point. His hands roamed up and down her back, coming to rest possessively on her bottom where he drew her closer, close enough to feel his rigid arousal. He had to have her. There was no use dancing around the subject any longer. He must have her or risk going out of his mind. Lifting his lips from hers, he kissed his way feverishly down her cheek and her neck and then back up to claim her lips again. His kisses were drugging her, turning her into a mass of sensations so exquisite, so intensely pleasurable, she could barely stand it.
Her hands gripped his jacket before going around his neck and coming through the thick denseness of his hair. She kissed him back helplessly, her body arching towards his, nipples evident through her sweater. He felt them as they seemed to brand straight into his chest.
She wanted him too and it was time for him to take control. Tearing his mouth from hers, he swallowed audibly as he tried to control his raging desire. His control was in tatters, hanging by a thread. His body was as hard as steel, his sex aching. He had never felt anything so intensely powerful in his life.
"I want you in my bed," he told her thickly.
"No." Common sense surfaced and what little will she had was enough to shove him from her. "No." Whirling blindly, she raced towards the horse and with little effort vaulted into the saddle and was off like a rocket.
Swearing beneath his breath, he hurried towards his own horse patiently waiting by the huge oak tree and jumped into the saddle. They were going to have it out once and for all.
*****
She knew instinctively that this time was different, that this time he was coming after her. She should have had the good sense to bolt the door, but she was too busy dashing into the bedroom, eternally grateful that apart from a sleepy maid making the rounds, the palace was still asleep.
She had barely taken off her boots and her jacket, when the doors swung open and then were firmly closed and locked.
"Get out," she warned, without turning around.
"That's not going to happen."
The carpet muffled his footsteps, so she wasn't aware that he had come further inside the room until he was standing behind her.
She went stiff when he clamped his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. His heart knocked against his ribs as he took in the disheveled hair and the swollen lips.
"Please don't do this."
The plea in her voice softened him. Lifting one hand, he brushed back tendrils of hair from her face, his touch gentle.
