His heart gave a lurch, but his answer came without hesitation. “Never.” He caught her chin, tipped her face up to his, and kissed her long and deep. “Never,” he whispered against her lips.
She pulled away, and he thought he’d blown it until he saw her face.
Her lower lip quivered, but her eyes shone. “In that case, I choose you, Dixon Olaf Kenichi Yano.”
Dixon froze. Did she mean what he thought she meant? “Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Uncertainty rippled across her face.
Dixon put her gently away from him. “When you make up your mind, we’ll talk. Until then …” He shrugged.
She looked startled. “I was trying to be honest. I’m a little confused.”
“About me? You think I’m like Jordan?”
“No. I don’t know.” She swallowed hard. “Dixon, what’s wrong? I thought …”
“What?”
She shook her head, making an inarticulate sound. “That there was something between us. That you had more than a professional interest in me. The way you look at me … the way you kissed me just now …” Her cheeks were pink.
He knew what this confession must be costing her, but he also knew it was essential to get things straight from the very beginning. Brittany had taught him that much. The hard way. Never again, he’d promised himself. Never again would he walk blindly into a relationship, especially not when he cared this much about the woman. Caring made a man vulnerable. And vulnerable was only another word for stupid.
“Up to now I’ve let you call all the shots.” He spoke firmly, his voice coolly unemotional.
Alexandra studied him in silence, her lower lip caught between her teeth. She looked so damn sweet and sexy that he was tempted to take her right there on the kitchen floor and to hell with the ground rules.
Her smile brought his blood to a simmer. “Your point being?”
And so damn sassy, he added to his mental inventory. “It’s my turn.”
“Okay,” she said slowly. “What does that mean exactly?”
“I want you.”
“Likewise, I’m sure.”
“I want you, but I’m not going to make any promises. Do you understand?”
“No promises?”
“Not a one. No diamond rings. No three-bedroom house with a thirty-year mortgage. No kids. No strings.”
Alexandra smiled crookedly. “You know, Dixon, you really need to work on your line.”
“It’s not a line. I call it the ground rules.”
“And I call it bull.” Her eyes snapped. “You said Mark was an idiot? You’re the idiot.”
Tell me something I don’t know. “Those are my terms. Take ’em or leave ’em.”
Dixon watched various emotions flit across her expressive face. She might condemn him as an idiot, but she hadn’t given up on him. Not yet.
Slowly a rueful smile tilted the corners of her mouth. “I didn’t have much luck with my engagement. All the promises ended up being broken.” Gnawing at her lip, she focused on her bare ring finger. Finally, after what felt like an eternity to Dixon, Alexandra seemed to make up her mind. She took a deep breath and turned to him. “So by your ground rules, what would you call this no-strings verbal contract you’re proposing, Dixon? A nonengagement? A disengagement? An unengagement?” She nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, an unengagement. I like the sound of that.” She smiled again, mischief in her eyes. “I, Alexandra, take you, Dixon, to be my unlawfully unwedded unhusband.” She slid her arms around his neck.
Dixon grabbed her forearms. “Which brings us to my second condition.”
Pressing her body to his, Alexandra nipped at his lower lip. “Have your lawyer talk to my lawyer, Yano.”
“But you don’t understand—”
She dragged his face down to meet hers and kissed him until his head swam.
“The ground rules,” he protested, albeit feebly.
“Forget the ground rules. There’s only one rule in an unengagement: There are no rules. Okay?”
“But—” He opened his mouth to argue the point and Alexandra immediately took advantage. Her soft lips and clever, darting tongue proved devastating to his train of thought.
“Oh, hell,” he said with a groan.
When they broke apart, both of them gasping for air, Dixon lifted her into his arms and carried her to the living room. He settled on the sofa with Alexandra on his lap.
“Just like a romance hero.” She traced his cheekbones with her fingertips.
“Oh, yeah? You think?”
“Definitely.” She twisted around to sit astride him.
New sensations rocked his body, destroying what was left of his equilibrium. He throbbed with need.
“You’re the sexiest man I ever met, Dixon”—she pushed him back against the cushions, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek—“Olaf”—another kiss, this one on his chin—“Kenichi”—she cradled his head between her hands; the tip of her tongue flicked across his upper lip— “Yano.”
Her kiss began as a benediction, warm and gentle; it ended as a torment, hot and arousing.
Dixon groaned and pulled her closer. Tangling his fingers in her hair, he kissed her long and deep, unleashing the passion he’d controlled for so long. He needed Alexandra; he ached with the longing. But even with his brain fogged by desire, Dixon recognized that despite all his bravado about ground rules and conditions, this woman, this relationship, was different. I love you, sweetheart.
I love you, Dixon. The thought reverberated so loudly in her head, Alex was surprised Dixon couldn’t hear it. She would have said the words aloud, but her mouth was otherwise engaged. No, make that married.
She wasn’t entirely inexperienced, but Dixon’s kiss—correction, his assault on her senses—had her on the verge of swooning like some Victorian virgin. Her skin was on fire, every nerve ending acutely sensitive to his touch.
Finally, starved for air, she broke off the kiss, leaning her forehead against Dixon’s, drawing one ragged breath after another. He pressed quick, hot kisses to her cheeks and forehead, her chin and the tip of her nose, then slid his hands up to cup her breasts.
Startled, she opened her eyes to find him looking at her, his gaze intent and loving, yet somehow tinged with sadness. A wave of love and compassion welled up inside her. She trembled with the need to erase every vestige of unhappiness shadowing his heart. “Dixon?”
“It’s all right, sweetheart.” A faint smile curved his lips. Again he pressed his mouth to hers, kissing her with controlled deliberation as his thumbs stroked languorously back and forth across her nipples. Alexandra shut her eyes, concentrating on the pleasure.
Heat flooded her. She arched into his hands as he slid his tongue along the scalloped top edge of her bra. Where had the rest of her clothes gone? Although she didn’t remember taking them off, her shirt and turtleneck had disappeared. Perhaps, she thought woozily, they’d evaporated in the heat.
Dixon flicked the front closure of her bra and pushed the lacy cups aside. She wriggled out of the straps.
“Look at me, Alexandra.”
She opened her eyes to find him staring at her, his expression intent, his eyes soft, his mouth curved in a tender smile. “You’re beautiful.”
Music to her ears, strange, haunting music that wrapped itself around her heart. She shivered at the look on his face.
You’re beautiful too. She touched the rugged line of his jaw, the angle of his cheekbones, the curve of his lips.
Dixon drew the tip of her finger into his mouth, sucking and nibbling.
She shivered again, feverish with excitement.
Dixon released her finger and slipped out of his sweatshirt. His body was as gorgeous as his face, lean and hard-muscled.
She splayed her hands against his chest, closing her eyes while she savored the textures of skin and hair, muscle and sinew. Fresh from the shower, he smelled of soap. She’d never suspected until now that Ivory co
uld be such a turn-on. Oh, God, but she wanted him … needed him.
Dixon’s breathing quickened. She felt the rapid rise and fall of his rib cage against her palms.
Suddenly he seized her wrists and pulled her arms around his neck, ducking his head to taste her breasts.
Alex moaned, arching closer. His mouth and tongue sparked pleasurable sensations, sensations echoed in her abdomen.
The friction of their remaining clothing only heightened her need. Damp and fully aroused, Alex craved release. If she didn’t have him soon, she would disintegrate. “Dixon, please. I need you.”
“Hold that thought.” His breath was hot against her naked skin. Deftly he rolled her onto her back, stood up, kicked off his boots, and peeled off his jeans. His socks went flying and then his shorts.
Alex stared, tongue-tied, her thoughts incoherent.
His smile melted her bones. “Stand up,” he said, “and I’ll help you out of your clothes.”
She drew a ragged breath. Giant economy size. Definitely giant economy size.
Dixon extended a hand, but she just shook her head. “I can’t get up. My legs are noodly.”
“No problem.” He knelt beside her. “Want to see me undo the button with my teeth?”
“You can do that, huh?” If Alex had had a fan handy, she’d have used it. All of a sudden the oxygen supply in the room was totally inadequate for her needs.
“Oh, I’m multitalented.” He proved his claim by stripping off her jeans and socks in two seconds flat. “Red toenails,” he observed. “How seasonal.” As his gaze slid slowly up her calves to her thighs and then her hips, his grin took on a distinctly devilish slant. “And red underwear, too, I see. Red silk French-cut bikini underwear.”
“My mother bought them.” She knew she sounded defensive.
He lowered his eyelids to half-mast. “Your mother has good taste. They’re sexy as hell. You’re sexy as hell.” His voice rasped along her tingling nerves.
Lowering his head, Dixon pressed hot openmouthed kisses down her stomach.
Shuddering in delight, Alex buried her fingers in his hair.
He paused just long enough to flick her navel with his tongue before continuing his downward trek. When he reached the barrier of red silk, he lifted her hips, molding and squeezing the muscles of her buttocks before hooking his thumbs under the elastic of the waistband and stripping away the last barrier between them.
TEN
Dixon watched Alexandra’s face change as his tongue invaded her warmth. Her eyes glazed over. She gasped and muttered something that might have been his name. It was hard to hear over the blood pounding at his temples.
Then she thrust upward, matching each deliberate foray of his tongue over and over until her body convulsed at last in shudders of ecstasy. “Oh, God. Dixon!”
He smiled in satisfaction, exulting in Alexandra’s responsiveness, evidence of his power to please her. Her obvious delight made his own pleasure all the richer. So beautiful. So precious. He would keep her safe. No matter what.
“Dixon?” She was still breathing hard.
“I’m right here, sweetheart.” He laid the back of his hand in the hollow between her breasts and felt her heart beating a mad tattoo against her breastbone.
Her eyes flew open at his touch. “That was … incredible.” The look on her face made his own heart skip a beat. If ever a woman deserved to be loved …
“Enjoy yourself, did you?”
“Enjoyed you. I feel so … good. Good, but guilty.” Her smile was tinged with sheepishness. “I had all the fun.”
“Fun’s not over yet.” Dixon settled himself against the cushions at the other end of the sofa and dragged her unresisting form on top of him.
He delighted as much in the startled expression on her lovely flushed face as in the feel of her soft breasts pressing against his chest.
Gripping her hips, he lifted her into position. “Oh,” she said in surprise as he slid inside. She fit him like a glove.
Alexandra sat up, adjusting herself to him, her wriggling movements pulling him deeper.
“Ah!” He gritted his teeth, battling for control. Gradually, he felt the tension ease.
Slowly he withdrew, then plunged back into her.
She arched her back in a reflexive gesture. Her nails bit into his shoulders. Surprise was written across her face. “I don’t believe this,” she whispered. “Not again. Not so soon.”
She sat up, clenching her muscles around him.
Dixon groaned. He wouldn’t last much longer at this rate. Everything about this woman was soft, her eyes, her lips, her breasts. He let his fingertips trail across her body, concentrating on the texture of her skin. Alexandra. Like hot silk under his hands.
When he touched her breasts, she shivered and her nipples responded instantly, the hard pink nubs swollen and erect against his fingertips.
“Oh, yes. There, Dixon. Touch me there.”
Using his thumbs, he brushed back and forth across the sensitized skin while thrusting with his hips. He drowned his senses in the feel of her, the female fragrance of her. Alexandra. Her warmth filled all the cold, secret places, all the hidden, lonely places in his heart and mind and soul. Alexandra.
Suddenly she was moaning his name, sobbing for release.
His last shred of control snapped. He exploded, surging within her.
Shudders of pleasure racked their conjoined bodies. Lightning, thunder, fireworks, and a twenty-one-gun salute all rolled into one. Better than sex, people said, describing everything from movies to chocolate mousse. Ha! Poor fools didn’t know what the hell they were talking about.
“Dixon?” Alexandra said sometime later.
He forced his eyelids open. She stared at him, her expression serious.
“What?” A prickle of alarm raced down his spine.
“I’m scared.”
He tightened his arms around her. “No need to be, sweetheart. You’re safe here. Nobody knows where we are. Not even Cesar. No way for the bad guys to trace us.”
She shook her head slightly. “I wasn’t thinking about whoever’s after me. I meant …” Her eyelashes fanned cheeks that were tinged a delicate pink. She pressed her lips together, then tried again. “I’ve never felt this way before. With Mark …”
Dixon tensed. “Forget Mark.”
She frowned. “I already have. And that’s part of what scares me. A couple of days ago I was engaged to Mark. Yet here I am making love with you. This feels like the real thing, but what if …”
“It’s a rebound thing?” He brushed the hair back off her forehead.
“Or a reaction to the danger I’m in?” She shivered slightly and burrowed into him. “You make me feel safe, Dixon.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And this is a bad thing?” He touched her mouth. Her lips trembled against his fingertips.
“No.” Alexandra turned away, then stood up and began pulling her clothes on. “But …” She shrugged.
Tell her the truth, stupid. Tell her she’s more than a client. Tell her you love her. Instead, he got dressed himself. The silence crackled with the intensity of all that lay unsaid between them. But dammit, even if he found exactly the right words, she wasn’t ready to listen. Despite what she might think, she still had a few issues to resolve. Jordan had weighed her down with a ton of emotional baggage.
“But what?” he asked softly. “Mark?”
“No!” She yanked the turtleneck over her head. “Mark doesn’t factor into this equation.”
Dixon snagged her hand and tugged her down on the sofa beside him. “Doesn’t he? Tell me about Mark. You and Mark.” He didn’t want to hear, but he knew she needed the closure.
She stared moodily out the window at the falling snow, silent for so long, he thought she’d forgotten the question. Finally: “When we first met, Mark was so charming, so handsome, so attentive. He swept me off my feet like a fairy-tale prince.”
Yeah, the guy was a real prince all right. Dix
on wrapped an arm around her shoulders as if his touch could shield her from the pain he saw in her face.
She settled into him with a sigh. “Gradually, so slowly I hardly realized it was happening, he changed. He became preoccupied with his job. Or so I thought. I didn’t see as much of him as I had before, and when we did go out, it was usually connected somehow to the firm, dinners with clients, socializing with his colleagues. He was still handsome, of course, and charming enough when he felt like it, but his attentiveness took the form of criticism. One time he’d say I wasn’t friendly enough with a client’s wife. The next time he’d say I was too friendly. Or he’d say my eye makeup made me look like an owl, my lipstick left smudges on his collar, my clothes were too conservative. When I insisted on attending my mother’s fiftieth birthday party instead of accompanying him on a ski weekend with the Loomises, you’d have thought I’d committed a capital crime.” She paused, out of breath.
“But the way he reacted to the threats against my life broke my heart. If he had truly cared about me, he wouldn’t have ignored my worries. He proved what I’d suspected for a long time. Prince Charming was just a disguise. Mark was a frog all along.” She looked at him. “You’re not a frog, are you?”
His smile was rueful. “No, sweetheart, but I’m no Prince Charming either. I’m just a man who cares for you very much.”
She cupped his jaw with her hand. His throat tightened at the expression on her face. “Guess I’ll just have to take a chance, huh?” Very gently she touched her lips to his.
Dixon walked into the room just as Alex hung up the phone. His eyebrows slammed together in a frown. “Jordan again? What is that? The fourth time he’s called?”
“The fifth. Apparently, he can’t take no for an answer.” Alex was so frustrated, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“I’ll fix his wagon.” Dixon unplugged the phone. “Let him argue with a busy signal.”
Why hadn’t she thought of that? Such a simple solution.
Dixon laid a hand on her shoulder. “Hell of a way to spend the holidays, huh?”
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