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"No." She cleared her throat, her mind reeling. "I was about to ask you to - that you should consider using-"
'No." He shook his head firmly. "I have felt your bare flesh against mine, and it has become addictive. I love the feeling of you against me, and I don't want to change that."
"I could have something inserted or get an injection-" She shook her head. "Look, this talk about a child; surely you are not serious."
"I am." He smiled at her as he took a sip of his wine. "In due time. Now tell me about the charity."
They resumed the conversation, talking about various needs, and before she knew it, she had cleaned her plate.
"I will go and get dessert. Tiramisu. Mrs. Blake makes the best kind. And some coffee."
"Need help?"
"No. Just stay, and I will get it."
Leaning back against the chair, she stared out at the stunning backdrop of green against white. The snowdrops had hardened into drops of ice on the leaves.
He returned just then with a tray of coffee and dessert.
Setting it on the table before her, he pulled her out of her chair.
"What?"
"I want to dance with you. Play R&B classics." He ordered. The music flowed out immediately, enveloping them with soft, soothing sounds as he gathered her close to him, his chin on top of her head. His hands drifted soothingly up and down her back, sending warmth throughout her body.
"That was pretty smooth." She murmured into his chest.
"I thought so. Still tired?"
"Not as much as I was before." She was enjoying his scent, the subtle smell of his expensive perfume, and the feel of his muscled frame against hers.
"Good." His touch became more personal, his fingers trailing down her back and lifting her sweater to get to her skin.
"The coffee is getting cold." She whispered.
"Hmm." Shifting his head, he nudged her chin up so that he could look into her eyes. His senses reeled from the warmth and the slumberous quality of the dark brown depths. "When I saw you on stage that first night, it struck me how beautiful your eyes were.
You captivated the audience with your passion and talent, but I saw beyond that." His fingers wandered over her skin. "I saw beyond your role to the woman behind the makeup. And I was entranced. I decided there and then that I wanted you."
"And you always, always get what you want." She whispered huskily.
"Almost always." He parted her lips with his thumb, feeling the familiar jolt.
"When you decided you wanted me, that was the end."
"I suppose." Bending his head, he brushed his lips against hers and felt the tremors which only heightened his awareness of her. "Give me your tongue."
He whispered against her lips. She was helpless to do anything but - and she obeyed automatically. He toyed with her, destroying her senses as he slowly sucked, pulling her in, the kisses soft and deep and sweet. She clung to him, body trembling.
He could do this with just a touch, a look from those fantastic eyes, and while it pleased her, pleasured her, it also gave her a jolt of fear. He had a hold on her that was too strong to ignore. Her hands gripped his sweater as his own hands branded her skin.
The kiss deepened, sending them into a passionate spin that had them clinging to each other. The music had changed, and the mellow sound of Luther Vandross filtered around the room but was ignored by them.
Ending the kiss, he put her away from him and walked over to lean against the rail, his shoulders hunched, his profile harsh with passion. "Music off!"
The silence was thick, and the atmosphere tensed. Lynn stood in the center of the room, uncertain what to do. Deciding she needed the coffee, she walked over to pour the two cups and stood by the table, watching him. He turned then, eyes meeting hers.
"Just needed a minute." He had himself under control by then, or so it seemed.
