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His mouth was firm but tender. His hands learned the contours of her body. She and Ian were both mostly clothed. He’d made no move to unfasten her bra. Suddenly, she wanted to be naked, desperately wonderfully naked.
“You’re a world-class kisser,” she muttered. “Top marks.”
“Shut up, Bella,” he said pleasantly. “Shut up and kiss me.”
They slid into a dream. One where nothing mattered except the beating of her heart and the harsh cadence of his breathing. She knew he was aroused. She had touched him hesitantly until he moved her hand away. It was the right thing to do. They weren’t having sex tonight.
Hazily, she pondered her options. A brief, wonderful affair with Ian might be the best thing that ever happened to her. And if it went badly, they lived on different continents, so she wouldn’t be subjected to the humiliation of running into him at the market or at a social gathering.
What she was feeling in this moment was new and disturbing. How could she be so aroused by a man who drove her insane on a daily basis?
She was hot and kerfuffled and about to climb out of her own skin. Recklessly, she dragged his head toward hers and kissed him wildly. His response was immediate and thrilling.
Big arms held her tightly against a body that was tautly muscled and damp with perspiration. He seemed desperate. That raw need seduced her as surely as any sweet words.
“I changed my mind,” she panted. “Let’s do this.”
Ian froze, his big body shaking. “Don’t say that, damn it. You have to be sure.” He released her abruptly and stood, leaving her like a rag doll, her limbs sprawled everywhere.
Raising up on her elbows, she glared at him. “Haven’t you ever heard of getting lost in the moment?” That he could be logical and mature when she was practically sobbing with the need for him made her angry and hurt. Clearly, she was far too involved.
She lurched to her feet, intending to button her shirt as she fled. But in her haste, she forgot about her ankle. When she put weight on it, she gasped in pain and lost her balance, falling against the man from whom she was trying to escape. Tears she couldn’t hold back dribbled down her cheeks, completing her humiliation. “Damn you, Ian. Let me go.”
He didn’t state the obvious. The only thing keeping her upright at the moment was his comforting embrace. She sniffled against his shirt, feeling the sting of unappeased hunger. Lust. That’s all it was. Pheromones. It was a small house. They were both young and healthy. This was bound to happen.
Gradually, she calmed. Ian stroked her hair steadily, his fingers brushing her nape. “I care about you, Bella. I don’t want to be one of your regrets.”
Should she believe him? Why else would he have stopped? His body gave him away. He wanted her. A man couldn’t fake that kind of thing.
She swallowed her tears and her frustration. “You’re right, of course. I would appreciate it if you would get me my crutch so I can go upstairs.”
Still he played with her hair. “It’s early yet. Why don’t we sit on the front steps and look for stars?”
The leaves on the trees would make that difficult, but she was in a mood to be persuaded. “Okay, but I still want my crutch.”
She sensed that her insistence bothered him. Surely he didn’t expect her to lean on him forever.
“Fine,” he muttered. He eased her gently into a chair. “I’ll be back.”
When he returned, Cinnamon trotted at his heels, her canine expression hopeful. Bella had to smile. “You’re a sweet baby.” The furry companion would come in handy. With the dog between them, maybe Bella wouldn’t do something stupid.
The night was still and hushed. Though it was awkward, Bella used her crutch and sat down hard on the top step. Cinnamon curled up at her hip. Ian staked out a position in the other side of the dog, standing and leaning against the railing. “I miss this when I’m in the city,” he said.
“Miss what?”
“The outdoors.”
“You don’t go outside in London? I’ve been there. They have parks and such.”
“Of course,” he said. “But Skye and the Highlands are different. Glasgow in Gaelic means dear green place.”
“I didn’t know that.” Good grief. At this point, they would soon be discussing the weather.
“Ian?”
“Hmm?” He sounded distracted as though his thoughts were a million miles away.
“I shared with you about my novel. Will you tell me the real reason you’re so keen to avoid the paparazzi?”
