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“What kind of dancing?”
“Modern. I’ve been dancing since I was five, but I gave it up when I turned sixteen.”
This woman intrigues me. I want to know everything. “Why?”
“There were a lot of chores on the farm.”
“What kind of farm?”
“Cattle and mostly maize. We planted some vegetables, depending on the crop rotation.”
“A farm girl.” I smile. “My kind of girl.”
The compliment makes her back snap tight again. She doesn’t like the implied meaning that we make a good fit. Anyway, it’s time to bring up the subject that’ll make her tense anew and get the stress out of the way. “Stay the night.”
I’m saying it like she has a choice, but I don’t know what I’ll do if she says no. I won’t touch her without her consent, but I’ll definitely not drive her home. I want her badly enough to sacrifice my left nut, but I’ll settle for just talking. I’ll even settle for watching her sleep.
She chews her lip as she considers my invitation. Wisely, she makes the correct deduction. “Do I have a choice?”
I give her the same words as before. “In some things.”
Gripping the edge of the table, she gets to her feet. “What do you want from me?”
Everything. “One night.”
She’s delicate and small-boned, but she faces the man who kidnapped her—not once but twice—head-on. “What if I say no?”
“I’m not going to touch you if you don’t want it.” It may kill me, but I’ve never forced or seduced any woman, and I’m not going to start now. It’s her choice or nothing. I won’t settle for anything less than her free will.
“But you won’t take me home, right?”
My silence gives her the answer.
“I need a shower,” she says, all but escaping to the far end of the room.
She looks at the lock on the front door. The key is missing. I’ve pocketed it. She can’t climb through a window. They’re fitted with mosquito screens that don’t open.
Pushing to my feet, I wince at the pull in my shoulder. “Tell you what. Why don’t you help me clear the table, and I’ll show you the bathroom when we’re done?”
I don’t need the help, but the task will help calm her. She doesn’t argue. She carries our empty glasses and the half-empty bottle of wine to the kitchen while I load the dishwasher and wipe down the table before blowing out the candle.
She’s shifting the wine around on the counter, first placing it in one corner and then moving it next to the microwave. I step up behind her. Unable to resist, I drag my hands over her arms. Her skin is softer than silk. She’s tall for a woman, but still a good head shorter than me. Acutely aware of her smaller frame and frail figure, I suppress an urge to drag her against me and shelter her in my arms. However, I can’t resist nuzzling her neck and inhaling that intoxicating perfume of flowers that blossom in winter.
My voice is hoarse. “Cold?” My need is raw.
On cue, she shivers. The night is cooler at the foot of the cliffs. I want to make sure she’s comfortable. My hands feel empty when I let go to switch off the ceiling fan. When I turn back to her, she’s watching me. I wait, giving her the opportunity to make the first move.
A tense stretch of silence follows. Still, she says nothing. She’s going to need some coaxing.
“What you do want, Cas?”
She wets her lips with the tip of her tongue. “It’s been a long day. I better have that shower.”
The action draws my gaze. I imagine biting those lips and other parts of her body. When I finally manage to tear my eyes away from her mouth, I’m quietly panting like a dog in heat.
Her words register in my mind. She didn’t invite me to join her in the shower, not that I expected her to. The night is still young but not nearly long enough. There’s no time for beating around the bush.
Crossing the floor, I don’t hide my feelings. I let her see the lust burning me up from the inside. “Will you let me touch you?”
All I get is a small shake of her head and the distance she puts between us as she backs up to the fridge.
I follow, stopping short of her. “This is how it’s going to work, baby doll. I won’t touch, but you’re going to let me watch.”
Chapter 11
Cas
It’s not what I expected. Baffled, I stare at the imposing man who’s backed me into a corner. Yet he’s not pouncing. He is, however, unrelenting. He’s enforcing his dominance, making sure I understand how the compromise is going to work. Awareness rushes over my senses, tightening my skin. The touch I’m denying him ghosts over my body, leaving multiple shivers in its wake.
