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She’d barely gotten the words out when she found herself backed against the door, Jack’s body half an inch away, close enough that when she exhaled she felt the brush of his coat against herown.
Hunger roared to life inside her, and she had the sudden urge to unfasten the buttons of his coat, tear it off his shoulders along with his shirt until they were skin toskin.
She could barely breathe as he looked down at her, his expression grave, as if he were considering a particularly perplexing and weightyproblem.
“We both know you’d invite me in if that’s what I wanted, Nina.” The words were guttural, as if they’d been wrenched out from underneath his veneer of control. He lowered his head to within an inch of hercollarbone.
Her body was a pool of kerosene, his own a lit match. His breath kissed her skin as his face traveled up her neck and across her jaw. He stopped at her mouth, so close that she could have nipped at his bottom lip without moving an inch. His gaze lingered on her lips, then rose to meet her eyes. It was like tipping into an underwater canyon, the fall endless and dark, her bodyweightless.
“But it’s not what I want,” he said, slowly straightening, his eyes still locked with hers. “Not yet.” He turned and headed for the stairs. “Goodnight,Nina.”
She watched his dark head disappear as he turned the corner, his footsteps echoing down thestairs.
He was long gone when she realized she was still standing there, staring at the stairs as if he mightreappear.
As if she wanted himto.
