Page 48

I’D JUST STEPPEDinto the guest room when I heard Caleb’s heavy footfalls on the floor. For a brief, disheartening moment I thought he was going to his own room, but when I looked over my shoulder he was right behind me. I didn’t care to ask him why, and I wasn’t sure I would care for his answer either, so I dropped my shoes next to my dresser, not even bothering to switch on the light, and started unzipping my dress. I heard the door close, and tried to ignore the wild flutter of nerves, not only deep in my belly, but between my legs too. I’d imagined a scenario just like this one, time and time again and now that it was playing out in some way, I couldn’t separate what I wanted from what I knew shouldn’t happen.

My hand was shaking, poised to take hold of the zip between my shoulder blades, when Caleb’s hand wrapped around mine. My skin prickled, my breath faltered.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I whispered. It was so soft it could have been mistaken for the breeze coming through the open terrace doors. Caleb must have opened them earlier, and I was grateful right then for his foresight. It was hot, and with him standing so close I needed the fresh air.

“Tell me to leave, and I will.” His voice rumbled against my neck, his hand paused. I remained quiet. Telling him to go would have been a grave denial, and yes, weak-willed and perhaps even a little impetuous, but how long was a woman supposed to deny herself before she started losing her mind?

There was also the reminder that I had set rules when I agreed to this. They weren’t so much to keep Caleb away from me – that would have been presumptuous – but rather to stop myself from doing something I would regret.

Problem was I wasn’t sure what I would regret more: taking the chance or not taking it.

Caleb lowered the zip, and before my dress could fall to the ground, I clutched it to my chest, and braved turning around.

In the brightness of the full moon outside, it became apparent that Caleb still had his shirt on, unbuttoned at the top, and his slacks, but no shoes or socks. His chest moved, a little faster than normal, and his eyes blazed a brilliant blue.

He lifted his hand, and traced his finger from my temple, behind my ear, over my pulse, and up to my mouth.

“So beautiful,” he murmured. “I used to have fantasies about this mouth.”

I swallowed. “You promised we wouldn’t do this.”

Caleb stilled, his eyes never leaving mine, and then he stepped into me, so close I could feel the rhythm of his chest against my clasped hands.

“I lied.”

My retort was cut off when his mouth sealed over mine. I gasped, and Caleb took that as an invitation, his tongue seeking mine. Caleb’s hands slid up my arms, around my neck, his thumbs tilting my chin up so that he could deepen the kiss.

This couldn’t happen.

It wasn’t supposed to.

But I was afraid that I’d wanted him too badly, for too long, to stop it with conviction.

I fought it, dammit I swear I did, but then my body sank into Caleb’s and I returned his kiss with the fervor of a woman still possessed by the memory of her first kiss. My lips moved with remembrance, I didn’t have to tell them I was kissing Caleb. They knew. My body knew.

He broke away, and I leaned in, following his movement.

“Drop your dress.” He exhaled, his nostril flared.

He caught my hesitation, and then gently said, “Trust me.”

I did.

And I think that’s what scared me more than anything because trusting him meant giving him the power to hurt me.

Not if it only happens once, I thought. I wanted to shake my head at my own naiveté, but instead the words, “I do,” fell from my lips.

Stupid girl. Stupid, stupid girl.

Caleb took my hands in his, and kept his eyes on me when my dress fell to the floor. His gaze lowered, traveling over my strapless bra, down my torso, pausing at the nakedness between my legs, and then back up. He licked his bottom lip, and ever so slowly brought his hands behind my back to unclasp my bra. I wasn’t by any means busty, and my nipples looked rosier against my creamy skin, but some part of me, albeit a very large part, still wanted Caleb to like what he saw. I wanted him to react to my body the way I reacted to his, and I knew if he didn’t, it would be a significant blow to my ego.

I looked away, feeling self-conscious.

“Don’t do that,” said Caleb, lifting my face. “You have a gorgeous body.”

“You make me nervous,” I blurted out. Talk about smooth.

“I don’t want you to be nervous.” Caleb lowered his head, and licked my neck. “I want you to give in. To me.”