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She shook her head. ‘But you haven’t taken advantage of me, Jack! How could you have done when I wanted it, too? You know I did. There was no force—nor even any persuasion. We were two adults who wanted the same thing.’
‘And you had no experience. None whatsoever. While I had plenty. Enough to know when to stop it. I should have taken control,’ he said. ‘I should have ended it while I still could.’
He’s making excuses, Ashley realised—and she had to let him go if that was what he wanted. She mustn’t chain him to her side because of a sense of guilt, or responsibility. ‘It can end right now and right here. If you want it to.’
He stared down into her face for a long moment and then he laughed.
‘Damn you, Ashley Jones,’ he said softly as he pulled her back into his arms. ‘Damn you for your soft understanding and your perception. Don’t you know that by offering me freedom, you have guaranteed my willing capture?’
‘That wasn’t my intention.’
‘You think I don’t realise that? That you are totally without guile?’ He gave a short laugh. ‘I could put it down to your youth and inexperience—but it goes much deeper than that.’ He stared deep into her eyes and lowered his voice to a murmur. ‘You just have these instincts which make you remarkable and which make me hunger for you. I want you, Ashley, and I want you now.’
He pulled her against him and once more he began to make love to her—kissing her long and deep until she was more than ready for him once more. But his tenderness seemed to have been replaced by something else. She thought she sensed anger as he moved deep inside her—or could it have been despair? Afterwards, she must have fallen asleep because when she opened her eyes again the light had almost disappeared from the sky outside.
She blinked as she realised how late it must be. ‘I really am going to have to do some work now, Jack.’
‘You don’t need my permission to get out of bed.’
‘Well, I did last time I tried. Remember?’
Reluctantly, he laughed. ‘So you did,’ he murmured. ‘Well, then, you’d better run along, before the memory of how you’ve just been wrapping those delectable thighs around my back makes me drag you back into my arms again.’
‘Jack!’
‘Don’t you know I love it when you blush like that?’
‘I am definitely getting up!’
‘Go on, then. I’m not stopping you.’
He lay back against the bank of pillows as she rose from the rumpled sheets. She looked like a modern-day Venus, he thought contentedly—all tousled and rosy.
‘Stop staring at me,’ she whispered.
‘But I like staring at you.’
For a moment, Ashley felt self-conscious as she made her way over his priceless silk rugs—wondering if he was judging her appearance. Wasn’t that the kind of thing which all men did? Assessed naked bottoms and thighs on a scale of one to ten and decided whether or not they were wobbly? Scooping up her clothes, she carried them into his bathroom, where the image reflected back from the mirror stopped her in her tracks and she stared at it in disbelief.
Could that really be her? Mousey and unassuming Ashley Jones, her hair all loose and streaming down over her bare shoulders and her body all flushed and naked? Her fingers crept up to her mouth, which had been kissed so thoroughly by Jack that her lips were now the colour of crushed berries.
She washed and dressed, but when she walked back into the bedroom it was to discover that Jack had gone and the bed was empty. For a moment she just stood there, wondering if she had dreamt the whole thing—until the soft aching at the very core of her body reminded her that it had been very real.
So now what did she do? Go looking for him or just slide behind her desk and carry on working as if nothing had happened?
Walking over to the window, she stared at the darkening garden and then up at the sky, where the faint pinpricks of stars were beginning to sprinkle the skies. Was this how it was going to be from now on—her life inhibited by what had just happened? Not daring to express herself for fear of how it might be interpreted by her boss? No. She had to behave normally—if she could only remember how.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t hear the door opening behind her—nor realise that anyone had entered the room until she heard the sound of something heavy being put down and then the soft whisper of lips at the back of her neck.
Turning around, she found Jack standing there—his rugged features flushed and his eyes gleaming dark.
‘I wondered where you’d gone,’ she whispered—wondering whatever had happened to all her good intentions about carrying on as normal. Did ‘normal’ include running her fingertips through the thick raven hair with a sense almost of wonder? Or leaning forward to inhale that raw masculine scent of soap and sandalwood which was all his—and dancing her lips in front of his.
‘And did you miss me?’ he murmured.
Once before he had asked her that same question and back then she had fudged the answer in order to protect herself from her growing feelings for him. But now—surely—there was no need to erect barriers, not when he had torn them down with the heady power of his love-making. Her finger brushed against his lips.
‘Yes, I missed you. I missed you a lot,’ she said. ‘Where did you go?’
