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But Lexi was lying, because sleeping at the opposite end of the house wasn’t perfect at all. Not when he was standing there full of vibrant life—reminding her of all his dark and golden promise.
He was the only man she had ever loved. The only man she had ever wanted—and that feeling had never gone away. She could feel her sadness being stretched and weakened by a powerful moment of desire. She could feel the soft cloak of intimacy settling around them and she tried to push it away.
‘The rose room is all yours. All ready and waiting,’ he said sardonically. ‘If that’s what you want.’
‘Of course it’s what I want.’ Deliberately, she widened her eyes. ‘Unless you were labouring under the misapprehension that I was going to fall straight into bed with you?’
‘I think I know you well enough to know that instant sex was never going to be a certainty, Lex. Even though right now it’s the thing which is uppermost in our minds.’
His frankness shocked her but it also excited her. And that was dangerous. ‘It might be on your mind—’
‘Come on, Lex,’ he said softly. ‘You’re surely not going to deny that you want me, that you aren’t standing there wondering what it would be like to kiss me again?’
‘I’m not.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘Believe what you want. It’s no—’
He silenced her by placing a finger over her lips and Lexi felt an instant, trembling response. Her eyes met his with a powerful feeling of recognition and she knew she should have protested. But she didn’t. She didn’t do a damned thing. Not even when he moved his finger to trace it slowly along the outline of her still-trembling lips.
It had been so long since he had touched her. She’d turned her life around and made the best of what she had but sometimes it just wasn’t enough. Outwardly she might look as if she was getting on and being successful, but wasn’t the truth that sometimes she felt cold and empty and only half alive?
She could feel the stir of her breath against his finger and he must have felt it, too, because she saw his eyes grow smoky. Another danger sign—because she knew how quickly he could become aroused. She knew how effortlessly he could carry her along on that urgent flare of heat. And then what? her conscience screamed. Then what?
She wanted to pull away, but she couldn’t. He might as well have turned her into a marble statue. But marble didn’t ache, did it? And marble didn’t feel this hot flood of desire, which was pulsing inexorably through her body. Lexi closed her eyes, biting back the gasp of longing which was threatening to spring from her lips. What did it say about her, that the tip of his finger edging almost innocently against her mouth could make her want to melt?
‘Stop that,’ she said indistinctly.
He splayed his hands around the span of her waist in a movement of unthinking possession. His head dipped forward so that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek. ‘You don’t mean that.’
‘I do.’
‘Then say it like you do.’
‘I don’t have to say anything.’
‘In that case I might be tempted to take your silence as compliance. Although on second thoughts, I might just admit to being tempted and leave it at that.’
She opened her eyes to see that he was lowering his head towards her and all she could read was the sexual hunger written on his face. There was all the time in the world to stop him but she didn’t. Of course she didn’t. Even when she said his name, it came out more like a plea than a protest. ‘Xenon...I... Oh.’
Their lips met in a kiss which was hard and hot and hungry. A kiss which shot right off the scale. She could hear the slam of her heart as he pulled her roughly against him. She could taste the warm mingling of their breaths and suddenly a sob was torn from her throat as she flung her arms around his neck and clung to him, railing against him even while he continued to kiss her.
Her words were muffled against his mouth. ‘You bastard. You complete and utter bastard.’
‘Call me all the names you like if it makes you feel better,’ he groaned. ‘But don’t deny you want me.’
‘No. I. Don’t.’
‘Yes. You. Do.’
His hand was cupping her breast and she was letting him do that, too. She could feel her nipple peaking against his palm and the rush of blood which engorged it so that it felt weighted and full. But this was wrong. She knew it was wrong.
‘Xenon.’ So why was his name coming out as a sultry moan as she curled her fingernails around his neck?
