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"But we knew it would be," Dylan stated flatly, in true diehard realist form.
"Physically, yes. But the rest..."
"... it felt like more."
She nodded. "It could just be me. At the risk of sounding corny, this was my first time. Maybe I'm overreacting."
"Nope. That explanation's not going to fly. To begin with, you're not the corny or the overreacting type. Also, it wasn't my first time, but I'm as blown away as you are. More so, in fact. This definitely wasn't in my game plan, not after thirty-five years of going solo."
Sabrina felt a little like she was sinking in quicksand, except that she didn't want to be rescued. "The timing's awful."
"True. But the feelings are pretty amazing." He reached over, capturing her chin between his fingers and bringing her around to face him. "Are you sorry?"
"That we made love, that it was so mind-blowing, or that it triggered a whole new set of emotional complications?"
"Take your pick."
She blew out her breath. "No, no, and no." A quizzical look. "You?"
"Not on your life."
"We shouldn't get ahead of ourselves." Sabrina wondered who she was trying to convince—Dylan or herself. "We should take it a day at a time. No expectations, no commitments. There's so much going on right now, neither of us can shoulder more pressures and demands. So let's just take it as it comes, okay?"
"Sounds like a plan."
Sabrina cleared her throat. "What about rule two—are you upset?"
"Only that you didn't tell me." Dylan's fingertip traced her shoulder. "I would have gone slower, been more gentle.... Oh, who am I kidding?" He gave a humorless laugh. "No I wouldn't have. I was wild to get at you. Nothing short of death could have stopped me or slowed me down. I was surprised, yeah, but not shocked. I knew you were inexperienced. You told me what your life was like. Somewhere in the back of my mind I'm sure it occurred to me that this was a possibility. It wouldn't have made a damn bit of difference." A grimace. "So, that's two cardinal rules out the window."
"I'll keep you honest about rule one," Sabrina vowed with a faint smile. "It's the least I can do after being the cause of your abandoning the others."
"Fair enough." Dylan was reaching over to his night table, clicking on the lamp.
"Please tell me that doesn't mean what I think it does." Sabrina gave him a wary look. "Please say I'm getting more than five minutes to recover."
He chuckled. "You are. In fact, you're getting help recovering."
"Meaning?"
"See that door?" He pointed to the far corner of the bedroom. "Yes."
"It leads to my bathroom. In there's the most amazing, relaxing, enormous stall shower you've ever seen—complete with massage sprays and twin shower heads. Great for sore necks and any other parts that need soothing. Interested?"
"Maybe." She shot him a deliciously seductive glance. "Are you joining me?"
He flashed her that irresistible, sexy grin. "It might cut down on your recuperation time."
"I'll take the risk. I'm a fast healer."
"In that case..." He rolled to his feet, lifting her off the bed and into his arms. He paused long enough to scoop up the box of condoms, before heading purposefully for the bathroom. "I've got a Jacuzzi, too. After you're recovered, we'll put it to good use."
CHAPTER 21
Monday, September 19th, 7.15 A.M.
Ruisseau Fragrance Corporation
Sabrina stared out her office window, watching the city come alive as she sipped a cup of very strong, very leaded coffee. She was exhausted, having flown in from Manchester late last night following a whirlwind weekend at CCTL—a full three-day session with two Fortune 500 companies, including three intensive training workshops a day per company, plus mounds of paperwork to catch up on, and mega-questions to answer from Melissa. She'd worked with the companies, conducted the workshops, tackled the paperwork, and fielded the questions—answering some, deferring others—then hopped on the last plane to LaGuardia, collapsed in the waiting limo and finally, finally toppled into her bed—only to find that she was too wound up to sleep. It shouldn't surprise her.
