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He’d hurt her.
His free hand clenched.
Emotions he couldn’t label, as he’d never experienced them before, rushed through him.
Emotions he didn’t understand and was pretty sure he didn’t want.
Emotions that demanded he protect this woman no matter what the personal cost.
He didn’t like the feeling, didn’t want to examine why he’d feel this way about her, and why he didn’t have the power to walk away when she needed him.
He lowered and lifted her to her feet.
“Are you okay?” he repeated his earlier question.
She shook her head, not speaking. His arms still held her, and he became achingly aware of her body mere inches from his.
Her tongue darted out again. When he looked into her intense, desire-filled eyes, he knew he was a goner.
“Jane,” he practically groaned her name. His heart pounded wildly, which seemed impossible as all his blood still loitered below his waist.
Not speaking, her hungry gaze lowered to his mouth. She slipped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair, sensitizing each strand to her. Every warning he’d ever heard sounded loud and clear as her body melted into his, as she pressed her lips to his.
Her lips were gentle, her touch tentative, testing, tasting. Fire spread through him. Hot, raging fire that consumed everything in its path.
Pull away, his mind ordered. Kiss her, everything else demanded.
A million reasons why he should stop her raced through his mind. None of them capable of making him push her away. He stood frozen in time unable to react one way or the other to the temptation she presented.
“Rob,” she pleaded when he remained unyielding, barely managing control of his body’s action. “Please kiss me.”
The vulnerability, the raw need in her voice, a need that matched his own, gave him no choice. He had to kiss her, taste her feminine pureness like spring’s first dewdrop on the softest rose petal. Her beauty outshined every bloom in the well-tended garden. Her scent sweeter than the most fragrant blossom.
He ran his hands over her ribcage, and pushed against her lower back, pressing her fully to his aroused body. No longer caring if she knew how much he wanted her, his mouth covered hers.
He’d been right. She was meeting him touch for touch and her tight bottom fit perfectly in his hands.
A sheen of sweat covered his body that had nothing to do with the miles he’d jogged this morning.
Sweet heavens above.
She moved her hips, grinding her body against his hard midsection. Blinding heat flooded him. He wanted more. On cue her mouth opened. The need to plunge into her sugary depths, to discover what she so generously offered, threatened to bring him to his knees.
But he couldn’t. He shouldn’t even be kissing her.
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Where had they placed those cameras in the gardens? Damn, he couldn’t remember. Anyone who happened to be in the studio early this morning could be watching them.
JP would kill him if he got wind of this.
“We’ve got to stop.” He pulled back, but was trapped by her arms.
“Why?” Her eyes held confusion amongst desire so hot he longed to say to hell with the cameras and take everything she’d give him, right here and now in the garden.
“This isn’t right.”
“It feels right.” She touched her lips to his and proved her point.
