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But she bit her lip, silencing the young, ridiculously naive girl who still lived inside her.
Wynn moved the hair from her face. He cupped her cheek, traced her collarbone, brushed lightly over each nipple in rapid succession.
It was too much and not enough. Need filled her, overwhelmed her.
When he rolled the condom on, she was shocked to feel pique...hurt. Did she really expect him to take chances? Surely not.
Tonight, she was content to lie back and receive him into her body. Emotional turmoil and exhaustion made this moment bittersweet.
How many times could she have sex with him and keep her secrets?
Perhaps Wynn picked up on her unusual passivity. How could he not? Where once they reveled in rough passion, tonight he offered her terrifying tenderness.
She didn’t want that. She didn’t. But when she tried to fight him and make him lose control, he defeated her.
The diabolical man gave her the most exquisite orgasm with his talented fingers, and then he thrust inside her while the tremors still rippled from her sex to her heart.
He was not as much in control as he pretended. He came hard, with a ragged moan, and slumped on top of her.
Felicity felt her heart shatter. She couldn’t stay until January. How could she bear it?
Minutes passed. She didn’t know how many.
When Wynn at last moved away from her, she sat up on the side of the bed with her back to him. “Good night,” she whispered.
“Where are you going?”
When she glanced over her shoulder, his expression was both angry and befuddled.
“I need to be alone,” she said. Scooping up her clothes, she walked out and shut the door.
Felicity felt a chill in the air after that night. She and Wynn slept in their own rooms. Their conversations became limited to pedestrian exchanges about Ayla. Wynn, for his part, did remember that she needed a dress.
He came home early on Tuesday and shooed her out of the apartment. “Go find something gorgeous,” he said. “I want to make every man at the party jealous.”
Her jaw dropped. “We’re still going?”
“Yes.” His eyes seemed to telegraph a message.
“But I thought we were cross with each other.”
His lopsided smile acknowledged the cold war. “You’re the one who changed, Fliss. I’m here whenever you want me. But I won’t make love to a woman who’s going through the motions. Not even if that beautiful and desirable woman is you.”
Guilt choked her, confused her. What was he saying?
“I won’t be gone long,” she said.
“Take all the time you need.”
By Thursday afternoon, Felicity was a bundle of nerves. She was going to a huge society party with a man who was equal parts handsome and dangerous. Wynn walked down the hall just as she came out of her room.
His eyes flared, and she could swear his jaw dropped. “Wow,” he said.
“Is it too much?”
Her dress was red satin, sin red. Strapless except for two tiny rhinestone shoulder ribbons that were more for show than support. The gown nipped in at the waist. Ballet length. She had chosen silvery stiletto pumps that gave her additional height. A faux fur wrap protected her shoulders.
Wynn shook his head slowly. “Not too much at all. You look like a younger, hotter Jackie Kennedy. If she were a blonde.”
