Page 38 of Hotter than Wildfire

He was looking down at her, gaze going from her eyes to her mouth and back. As if gauging whether…

Oh yeah. In answer to his unspoken question, Ellen tightened her arm around his neck and closed her eyes.

His mouth was as warm as his hands, only much softer. He tasted absolutely delicious—of coffee and cinnamon and butter. His twisted his mouth slightly, opening hers and his tongue licked hers.

She pulled in a startled breath at the electric current that ran through her at the touch. Searing heat that took her breath away.

It was way too intense and she pulled back.

His mouth was slightly wet from hers and it was a huge temptation to run her finger over his lips, just to see again how soft they were, the only soft thing in a hard man.

He lifted his head, just slightly, so that his mouth was only an inch from hers.

Harry’s eyes were golden flames, burning hotter than the sun.

“Where were you going just now?” He was so close his coffee-tinged breath washed over her face.

She had no breath to answer him.

Oh God. The kiss had electrified her. This was insane. It was just a kiss. It wasn’t as if she had never been kissed before. But it was the most sensuous kiss she’d ever had, almost as intimate as sex itself. And, oh, it had been so long since she’d been held. Since she’d even touched another human being, even the most casual touch, let alone this assault on the senses.

She erected a small mental barrier against him, against the oh-so-tempting and oh-so-dangerous feelings of sensuality and safety he sparked in her, and stiffened a little in his arms.

“I, ahm, I need to get to the bathroom.” And I need to get out of your arms.

Harry turned and carried her into the bathroom, gently putting her on her feet, holding on to her arms.

Ellen found that she could stand. The support of his hands felt good, too good, and she took a small step back, away from his grasp. “I hope you’re not thinking of staying here while I use the bathroom.”

She was painfully aware that she was in the presence of an amazingly attractive man, dressed only in a wrinkled gown, even if it was silk, with bed head and probably moss growing on her teeth.

Being on the run meant many things, including a loss of dignity.

Those golden eyes saw too much, understood too much.

“I won’t stay if you don’t need me.” His golden gaze was keen, he searched her eyes, took a moment to answer. “But I’m going to be right outside. If you need my help, all you need to do is call, I’ll hear you.” He nodded to the sink. “There’s an unused toothbrush and a travel-sized tube of toothpaste there. Soap and a towel are on the counter.”

“No moisturizer?” she teased.

“Sorry. Whoa.” He shook his head, surprised. “Not even a hint of moisturizer. But I’ll buy some later. Nicole can tell me what to buy and where. Or better yet, I’ll have her buy it.” He stepped back out of the bathroom. “Remember, I’m right outside,” he said, and closed the door.

Ellen used the toilet, then walked to the sink. The bathroom was very large and very spare. All the fixtures were white and the walls were tiled in white. There were white glass fronted shelves on the left hand side and a huge shower on the right.

There was no trace of a woman. Ellen told herself that it was absolutely no business of hers if a woman lived here or if even a battalion of women trooped through his bedroom and bathroom nightly, but she was whistling in the wind because the spurt of relief she felt at seeing his toiletry items—one comb, one brush, one toothbrush, one half-squeezed tube of toothpaste, an electric shaver—on the sink was unmistakeable.

The brand-new plastic-wrapped toothbrush and travel-size tube of toothpaste had Compliments of the Hilton Hotel on them.

She eyed the shower, tested her knees, and thought—what the hell. A second later the nightgown was on the floor and she was under the shower.

Bliss.

She’d lived in such miserable hovels over this past year. They had reminded her of the places she’d lived in during her childhood and that she had worked so very very hard to put behind her.

Hard work, intense study, focused like a laser beam to get her degree while holding down two jobs, all that hard work at her first big job and yet this past year had brought her back full circle to what she’d fought so hard to escape.

The dirt cheap motels as she made her way west, with the rust stains in the toilets and the pubic hairs in the shower. The rented rooms with a grudging trickle of hot water. She knew those kinds of places intimately.

She’d made a lot of money on Eve’s records, but it had all gone to the company she’d set up to receive the monies. She hadn’t figured a way to draw on the money without drawing attention to herself. Her money might as well have been on the moon.