“I told you I do not care,” she bit out. But she couldn’t ignore the thrill that swept through her at his admission.
He turned her around to face him. “It matters to me. Damned if I know why, but it does. I won’t lie and say I don’t have a past with Cassandra, but she means nothing to me. And hasn’t for a very long time.”
Did that imply that she herself meant something to him? “Max, you and me, we’re not together,” she said again.
“From the moment I first laid eyes on you, I’ve wanted nothing more than to strip every piece of clothing off your perfect body and spend hours laving kisses across your flesh.” His crystal-blue eyes never wavered from her own. “That night on the train was too hurried. And you stopped me in the inn, but I know you didn’t want to.”
Why did she crave him so intensely? What was it about him that captivated her so?
“This is highly improper,” she said, wishing she had a cloak about her to pull close around her. Instead, she hugged her arms to her body. She was weak when it came to Max. Give her one tiny taste, and she wanted the entire plate. She didn’t want to want him. She didn’t want to need any man, but damned if this one didn’t pull at her as the moon pulled the tide.
“I know you want me, too,” he said, his voice no more than a whisper.
She bristled. “You know no such thing.” Evidently, she had not done as good a job as she’d thought of keeping her desire a secret.
“You can deny it, if you choose, but I know the truth.” He passed behind her, his breath ruffling through her hair. “You want me.”
“Stop that.” She swatted at him as she turned and put distance between them.
“You won’t be able to fight it forever. Eventually this sort of desire always”—he paused, letting his eyes slowly move down her body—“combusts.”
“Clearly you have far more experience in this sort of thing than I do, but I can assure you I do not feel as if I’m going to combust. Quite the contrary.”
“So when I grab you this way and pull you to me”—he did as he said, pressing the length of her body against his own—“you feel nothing?”
She swallowed slowly. “Correct.”
“And there is no rise in your temperature when I do this?” His hand lifted her slightly by squeezing her bottom, then he nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck. The day’s growth of beard scraped tantalizingly against her collarbone as he took small heated nips along the tender flesh.
“Nothing at all,” she lied.
“I see.” He placed both hands on the sides of her face, then leaned in and kissed her. Not any kiss, but a kiss intended to imprint itself on a human soul, so tender, so full of yearning, she could not help but cry out. The sound was muffled by his mouth’s covering. His tongue slid against her bottom lip, and she opened to him, and lost were her protests as she melted against his body.
Good gracious, but Max was a good kisser.
His hands kept her in place, but she was in no rush to move. Not yet. She could endure a little more.
Then he was done, pulling back from her with small kisses directly on her lips. Achingly sweet.
“And now?” he murmured.
She swallowed and kept her eyes closed, but managed to say, “Nothing.”
“As I expected,” he said.
She opened her eyes to find him grinning ruthlessly at her.
One eyebrow cocked. “Nothing?” he repeated.
She took in the length of him, standing there with his shirt open and that wolfish grin. Not nothing, but everything. When he touched her, the world stilled and only the sensations gave her breath.
She so wanted this. Wanted him.
Without another thought, she crossed to him and kissed him. She yanked his shirt off his arms and ran her hands over his torso, touching every hard, sinewy line on his chest. She couldn’t deny her desire for him any longer. She simply wouldn’t.
Impatiently she unfastened his trousers. Her body positively hummed with lust. Everywhere he touched, fire lit under her skin and blazed through her. Her nipples peaked. She was wet for him, wet and simply aching for his touch. For him to be inside her.
He stilled her hand and met her eyes. “Sabine, I can’t offer you anything more.”
