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He shakes his head. "You."
And then he kisses me hard, his eyes closed, and a wave of desire floods through me, making me dizzy and I realize it's that connection thing again. I'm feeling both our desire. My legs tremble, threatening to give out so that he has to hold me up. He picks me up and carries me to the side of the bed, laying me down across it, leaning over me, pinning my hands above my head, and I feel as if I'll pass out from the intensity of the emotions that rush throughme.
He rests on his elbows, his body between my thighs, his hips pressing into me, his face directly above mine. I can barely breathe as I wait for what he'll do. He does nothing – just looks at me, fingers brushing hair off my cheek, then tracing my mouth. I close my eyes, unable to keep looking into his too-blue ones, and just lie there, not sure what I think should happen despite what my body and heart tell me I want tohappen.
My body aches for him and I want himnow.
He exhales heavily, making a sound in his throat, and leans his forehead againstmine.
"This could get verycomplicated."
Then, much to my shock and confusion, he releases my hands and rises up, standing at the side of thebed.
"I have to think," he says finally. Then he leaves thebedroom.
I sit up on the bed and watch him through the open door, my heart only now starting to slow. I feel humiliated by how much I wanted him and how it was only his self-control that kept me from letting him take whatever hewanted.
He goes into the bathroom and I hear him open the linen closet door and then shut it. He's found the manuscript. He returns to the bedroom and stands beside me, flipping through the pages as if he's looking for specific parts. He finds something and then rips the pages out, one after the other, placing them on my nightstand. He moves on further and repeats this process, selecting pages and tearing them out of themanuscript.
"There," he says, handing the manuscript back to me, and it feels much lighter – half of its original size. He gathers up the loose pages and folds them, then tucks them into the inside pocket of his coat. "I think that's all of it. You can read the rest if youwish."
He holds out his hand to me and I just look at it. What does he want to do – shake myhand?
"Take my hand," hesays.
"Why?"
"Being here in the bedroom is just too damn distracting. I thought I'd offer my hand just in case your legs are still tooweak."
"I can stand," I say, my face hot from our contact and he looks so damn calm and cool. "So that's it?" I say, my pride stinging that it was so easy for him to control mybody.
"What do youmean?"
"You kiss me like that and we're back to business?" I shake my head, avoiding his eyes because I'm so damnembarrassed.
He pulls me into his arms and sighs once more, pressing me against the wall, one knee between mythighs.
"Oh, Eve…" he says and tilts my chin up so I'm forced to look in his eyes. "It took every ounce of strength to resist you." He says nothing for a moment, and I feel all choked up. "I apologize," he says. "I rashly encouraged you but this can't happen betweenus."
"Why?" I ask, trying to look away but he preventsme.
"Eve, I'm not sure I'm ready for this," hesays.
"Forwhat?"
"Forus."
"Well, that's a first," I say, my voice wavering. "Usually, I meet a guy and he's all over me and it's me who can't commit. Who takes so long to warmup."
"I'm warm, Eve," he says softly, his forehead against mine. "I'm more than warm." "I'm incendiary. But there are things I need to be sure of. Things I have to do before this canhappen…"
I close my eyes, because the feel of his body against me has just reignited my desire oncemore.
"Don't do that if you're not going to," I say and stop, unable to say thewords.
"If I'm not going to what?" he says, his mouth quirked into that damn lopsidedgrin.
"Youknow."
