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“Who said we’re going to sleep?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I’m not the sort of man who has a right to care if you’ve slept with a dozen other men.”
“You prefer an experienced woman?”
“Did I say that?” he whispered.
“You probably do this all the time.”
For an instant that haunted look she hated came into his eyes. “Not lately. But, yes, in the past. I’m not proud of it. But I didn’t want it to be like that with you.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I don’t want to be the person I’ve been most of my life. Or maybe I just think you deserve someone better than me.”
She felt a flicker of conscience. What would he think of her if he discovered that his badness was the reason she’d invited him up? Would that ruin his good opinion of her?
“So, you think a person can change?” she said to divert him.
“You’re not asking a man who knows much about such things.”
“Then what do you know about?”
“Hell. Did you invite me up here just to talk?”
Before she could answer, his mouth touched the back of her neck and began to nibble with a practiced expertise that made exquisite little shudders ripple through her. Even as new longings flooded her, his callused finger feathered across the softness of her throat and moved lower to caress her breasts.
“Incredible,” he said as her nipple peaked beneath a fingertip.
When he began untying the delicate silk straps that held her halter top up and more intense pleasurable sensations pulsed through her, she sucked in a breath.
She felt weak, blindsided by her own needs. Losing her nerve, she gave a little cry and grabbed the straps. Holding them up, she danced away from him and hit the light switch with the heel of her hand. Everything went black and she sank against the wall.
“I don’t want to make love to you in the dark,” he said huskily. “But I will, if that’s what you want.” He strode to a cabinet, punched some buttons, and almost instantly soft, seductive music filled the room.
“Why did you invite me up here?” he asked.
She was too aware of his tall, dangerous body, of his smoldering eyes searing her from the dark. She sensed the strength of his will and the formidable ruthlessness that had made him a champion race-car driver and a predator in the bedrooms of all those beautiful, glamorous women who’d hungered for his touch. Horribly, his badness excited her even as it frightened her.
When he said nothing more, the awful wildness began to rise in her again until she was so hot for him she wanted to tear off her clothes and turn on the light and spread her arms and legs wide open and lean back against the wall.
Why not surrender to that untamed part of her nature? Just this once? He of all men should understand and revel in such primal female wildness.
She began to undulate slowly to the music. At first her frozen limbs could barely move. Only gradually did her body come alive and heat to his male presence in the dark. Very slowly, she let the silk straps fall and drift down her breasts to her waist.
Too aware of him, she caught her breath and held it. Cool air caressed her breasts as she unzipped the back of her red dress.
Maybe he heard the rustle of silk or the purr of her zipper as it slid down or her silk gown slithering down her hips, because he hissed in a sharp breath. Or maybe he could see her in the dark.
When he didn’t move, the charged, pulsating seconds ticked by slowly. Then he punched a button, and the next song was faster, wilder, its beat flooding through her like a jungle drum.
Leaning down, she loosened the silver straps of her high-heeled sandals. Kicking them toward him, she watched as they sparked like falling stars before landing softly right in front of him. With a fingertip she caught her transparent, red thong panties, which she’d bought because of a crazy dream she’d had about Fletcher, and stepped out of them. The darkness made her feel safe, but this wasn’t about safety. It was about sex and sensuality and recklessness, about learning that she was a beautiful sexy woman who was not afraid of that part of herself, which until tonight she’d never fully explored.
She slammed her fist against the light switch, and the chandelier blazed to life. She threw her red thong at him. Then, bathed in light, she arched her golden body against the wall. She was wet and hot and trembling.
Dry-mouthed and mindless with fear, she froze.
His dark eyes devoured her.
“Voilà,” he whispered. Her thong dangled from his tanned hand.
Her palms grew damp. “I—I can’t do this.” She stabbed wildly at the light switch again, but couldn’t find it. “I thought I could.”
