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She leaned back against him. “No, you didn't.”
“It was—” he turned her in his arms and gazed down into her eyes with a tender smile “—spectacular.”
She couldn't stay annoyed with him when he spoke in that particular tone. When he looked at her in that particular way. She wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted her mouth to his.
Hands slid avidly over wet, slick skin, pausing often to explore and caress. B.J. wrapped her leg around his, locking them together, savoring the roughness of his hair against her smooth skin, the bulge of muscle in his calf. The position pressed them together from chest to knees, and she reveled in the differences between them. The way they fit so perfectly together.
She had been self-conscious at first, worried that Daniel would be disappointed with her lack of voluptuous curves. Yet the appreciation on his face when he looked at her, when he touched her, when he slid
down to explore her sleek body with his mouth, reassured her that her slender form appealed to him.
The water was beginning to cool, but B.J.'s temperature was rising. She wouldn't have been at all surprised to see steam rising from her skin.
She speared her hands into his wet hair, her back arching when he pressed openmouthed kisses on her thighs. “Daniel?”
He rose to his feet and reached behind her to turn off the water. “Last time we hurried a bit,” he murmured. “Now we're going to take our time.”
She didn't know why he had changed again from cool and distant to warm and passionate. She could hardly keep up with his mood swings, never really knew when he was playing a role and when he was being himself. If ever. If she had any sense, she would be pushing him away, protecting herself from falling even harder for him than she already had.
Apparently she had no sense at all when it came to Daniel.
Barely taking time to towel off, they fell onto the bed they had shared so platonically before. Despite what Daniel had said in the shower, B.J. expected things to progress rapidly from that point.
Instead he slowed down, taking a leisurely journey of nibbling kisses from her throat to her toes and then back again. He cupped her face between his hands and kissed her mouth, her eyelids, the tip of her nose. But still he didn't hurry.
When she could stand it no longer, when she began to wonder if he was ever going to satisfy the ravenous hunger inside her, she rolled fiercely onto him and took matters into her own hands. So to speak.
Soon it was Daniel who was groaning. Demanding. And B.J. was the one who taunted and teased, giving only so much before drawing back and leaving him aching for more.
His skin glistened with sweat when he finally snapped, when the control that was so much a part of him deserted him. She marveled at the wildness in his eyes when he flipped her beneath him, and then the wildness took charge of her own mind, depriving her of coherent thought.
B.J. had barely recovered her breath when someone knocked on the door to the sitting room. She opened her eyes just as Daniel pushed himself upright.
“That will be our brunch,” he said, straightening his disordered hair with a sweep of his hand. “I'll get it.”
Their lovemaking had left her drowsy and lethargic, but the mention of food reenergized her. She sat up, the sheet falling to her waist. “Great, I'm hungry.”
Daniel chuckled roughly and leaned over to kiss her, one hand brushing her bare breast in the process. His expression when he drew away made it clear that the intimate contact had not been accidental. “Why does that not surprise me?”
He wrapped himself in a thick terry bathrobe and headed for the other room. Pulling her own robe around her, B.J. took only a minute to ruffle her tumbled, mostly dry hair into place before following him, hoping there would be Belgian waffles on the brunch tray.
But it wasn't room service standing just inside the door in the sitting room. It was Judson Drake.
B.J. froze. Drake's cool eyes swept her from head to toe, and she knew she must look as though she had just crawled out of bed. Since Daniel looked the same way, it must have been obvious what they'd been doing before Drake arrived. She felt her cheeks flame.
The scene worked perfectly into the false stories Daniel had woven about them, of course. Yet surely he couldn't have predicted Drake would find them this way. She didn't want to believe there was anything premeditated in the way Daniel had made love to her.
“Mrs. Andreas.” Drake's voice held a faint note of mockery that set her teeth on edge. “I just stopped by to express my deepest apologies at the incompetence of my staff in leaving you stranded on the island all night. I understand your husband was justifiably infuriated on your behalf earlier. Fortunately his temper seems to have been…soothed since his encounter with Bernard.”
Because she didn't quite trust herself to respond without ruining everything, B.J. merely crossed her arms over her chest and nodded.
“My wife is hungry and she needs time to recuperate from our ordeal,” Daniel said bluntly. “If you'll excuse us…”
“Of course. As a matter of fact, here's your food now.” Drake moved out of the way to allow a uniformed server to push in a fully loaded tray. “Please let me know if there is anything at all I can do to make it up to you, Mrs. Andreas. And, Daniel, I trust you'll be able to meet with me this afternoon while your wife rests?”
“It would serve you right if I caught the first shuttle out of this place,” Daniel growled, making B.J.'s heart jump with a foolish optimism.
Drake's left eyebrow rose. “That would be unfortunate,” he murmured, “for both of us.”
