He cut across the empty dance floor, eager to avoid any more matchmaking mammas.
Luke presented Olivia with the watered-down drink, the ice having given up the fight with the crowded, overheated room.
"Sorry, the ice is pretty much gone. Henrietta Williams waylaid me."
"Let me guess, Henrietta was trying to set you up with Candy." She took the drink. He watched as Olivia tipped the glass, fascinated by the movement of her throat as she swallowed. Moisture dripped from the glass to the valley created by her cleavage. She lowered the tumbler and sighed with satisfaction. "At least it's wet." She held the glass against her neck. "Are you as hot as I am?"
The lack of guile in her gray eyes combined with her sexy words left him dry-mouthed with want. He fought the urge to lick off the moisture where it clung to a tempting expanse of her neck, to follow that wet rivulet to her valley. If she ever realized her own sensuality, she'd be lethal.
"I don't know if I've ever been hotter." Desperate, he tossed back a portion of water, mourning his decision to forego a stiff measure of gin. Alcohol couldn't possibly unhinge him any further.
"Let's take a moonlight stroll in the gardens."
Once again, desire slammed him. "I don't think that will cool us off."
"I know."
A rush of tenderness filled him at the hint of uncertainty flickering in her eyes, despite the invitation issued by her smile. Luke sat rooted to the spot, momentarily incapable of moving, overwhelmed by his good luck.
The microphone squealed as the band's singer announced the next set. In the mirror, he caught a glimpse of Henrietta urging Candy in his direction. That was enough to dispel his inertia.
As the other couples rushed to the dance floor, he slipped out the back door with Olivia.
* * *
3
« ^ »
Moonlight danced through bare branches, casting an ethereal spell along the garden path. Gravel crunched underfoot as they passed a fountain where a stone maiden spilled water into a pool below. The fecund fragrance of fertile soil underlaid the brisk bite of autumn air.
Caught up in sensual enchantment, Olivia wouldn't have been surprised to spot a satyr in fleeting pursuit of a nymph. She herself had become a lady-in-waiting absconding with a dangerous pirate. Tomorrow she'd go back to plain Olivia the librarian, but this magical night had transformed her into Lady Olivia.
Neither spoke until they reached a trellised archway where countless couples had exchanged vows over the years. Within the shadowed confines of the archway, Adam turned to her. He wrapped his hands around the back of her neck, tugging her closer with a tender urgency. She'd never guessed such an innocuous spot could be so rich in sensory nerves. She felt his touch all the way to her toes.
Even as she slid her hands around his waist and met his lips with her own, Olivia realized she'd never felt more alive than at this moment. Her eyes drifted closed. His mouth tasted faintly of lime. Was it seconds or hours that they stood wrapped in one another? Olivia had no idea, she only knew it hadn't been long enough when the kiss ended. She leaned back against the latticed wall of the trellis, seeking support. Give Adam a pirate costume and he became a different man.
Adam leaned down and rested his forehead against hers. Just that simple contact and his proximity, and her knees threatened to buckle. It was as if some magic thread bound them together.
"Olivia, I need to tell you something—"
She quieted him with a finger against his lips. "Shh. Tonight's magic." She traced the firm line of his mouth with her fingertip and felt his shuddered response. A thrill shot through her that she affected him as deeply as he affected her. And much like a tiny piece of rich, dark chocolate melting against her tongue, his kisses were sinfully delicious but gone so quickly, she merely craved more.
"But, I'm—"
"Please." She leaned against him and teased her tongue against his lips. "When you … when I … I've never felt that way before when we kissed." Olivia summoned all her courage. "I don't want to talk, I just want to feel like that again."
With a groan, he swooped down and captured her mouth. Forget feeling that way again—this was even better. His lips probed, fierce yet tender. She opened her mouth to him, eager for the thrust of his tongue against hers. Heat scorched her, from the inside out. He splayed his broad hands against her back to pull her closer, and she arched into him. Her breasts welcomed the hard wall of his chest. She moaned her pleasure into his mouth and felt him swell, hard and fast, against her belly.
A sense of destiny shook her.
He dragged his mouth away from hers. Their breathing rasped into the quiet of the garden. Before she could protest his abandonment, he scattered kisses along her jawline. Olivia dropped her head back to allow him fuller access to her neck. Quick study, her pirate. As he lavished her with kisses, his breath warm and moist against the chill of her exposed skin, she quivered and her body tightened.
He slid her dress off of one shoulder, baring it to his mouth. "So … very … very … sweet." Nibbles punctuated his words and drove her further out of her mind, into a state of blissful sensation. "So … beautiful." His tongue swirled against the exposed slope of her breast. Desire flashed through her, like a rampaging river swollen by torrential rains.
He slipped his thumb inside her bodice and brushed against her pearled tip. Olivia whimpered. A faint scrape of his thumbnail against her nipple and her hips undulated against him in supplication. He pushed aside the starched material and freed her breast to the nip of the night air.
She felt vulnerable. She also experienced a peculiar sense of belonging and shelter in his arms. Exposed, yet safe. It was an intoxicating combination.
"You…" he cupped her breast in his hand "…are…" he bent forward until his breath warmed her tight bud "…mine?" Part declaration, part question.
"Yes." Part answer, part demand.
He suckled her deep into his mouth, then released her to tug at her nipple with his lips. Pleasure pulsed from her breast to her thighs. She clutched at the lattice behind her, bruising the delicate vine twining around it, and whimpered.
The sharp sound of crunching gravel nearby interrupted. Teasing laughter floated over the flowers and shrubs, as another couple sought the enchantment of a garden stroll.
Olivia froze, acutely aware of her semidressed state in the shadow of the trellis. Before she summoned the wherewithal, Adam restored her clothing with unsteady hands.
Instead of anticipated embarrassment, mild annoyance at the interruption stirred in her breast—and other parts farther south.
The night air carried a woman's voice. "It's cold out here. Let's go back to your house." A man murmured indistinctly, but retreating footsteps left Olivia and Adam alone once again.
Olivia had no intention of squandering even a minute of this night out of time. She smoothed her palms over the flat plane of his belly up to his chest. Standing on tiptoe, she whispered into his ear, "I don't think it's cold at all. In fact, I think it's very, very hot."
His wig, gathered at his nape with a leather strap in true pirate fashion, tickled against her nose, surprisingly silky and real. Tonight Adam had abandoned his hair gel with the annoying odor. She infinitely preferred the clean scent of sandalwood present beneath the wig.
"Honey, you are killing me." His low murmur stirred her hair and her feminine self-esteem.
"Am I really?" Go figure. She, Olivia Cooper, a femme fatale? From the time she'd donned her costume and mask, it was as if she'd slid through the rabbit hole—Olivia in Sensual Wonderland.
He brushed his groin against her, the thick ridge of his erection apparent. "Really."
Her thighs quivered and clenched in response. "Oh, my. Is that a sword in your pocket or are you just glad to see me, Captain Hook?" And now she was glib and flirtatious. Really, altogether too strange.
She sensed his smile in the dark as his thumb played against the hollow of her cheek. "Baby, I'm so glad to see you, there's no damn
way I can go inside now."
Up until now Adam had always addressed her in a formal manner. His earthy sensuality struck a chord within her.
Where such boldness came from she would always wonder, but she reached between them and palmed him. He pulsed at her touch. "We could go to my house."
"Are you propositioning me, Olivia?" Was that a hopeful note underlaying his incredulity?
She knew she'd stepped—make that leaped—beyond her self-imposed boundaries. But one night. For one night her mask and the shadows offered a measure of anonymity. She drew a fortifying breath and seized the opportunity. "Yes. I believe I am."
"Thank God." He wrapped her in his arms. "Pillage and plunder?"
"Hmmm." Instinct took over. She licked at the base of his throat. He shuddered in response.
"Let's go." The strain in his voice and the fact she'd put it there, excited her.
She traced her tongue against the pulse hammering in his neck. He groaned and set her from him. "Let's go now. No more of that."
Compelled to seek one more touch, Olivia kissed the strong column of his throat. The slight chafing of his beard aroused her unbearably.
"Olivia, you've got to stop." His voice echoed his harsh breathing. "We're about one kiss away from the point when I won't care if fifty people are inside that building. Before I prop you against the lattice, raise your skirts, and slip inside you while you wrap your legs around me."
His words inflamed her. Moisture slicked her. Her nipples further tightened to hard points of want. She teetered dangerously close to the edge of not caring herself. The ten-minute car trip to her house loomed like an eternity.
She couldn't get him home fast enough. "Let's go. You can follow me."
He twined his fingers through hers and tugged her along, leaving the privacy of their hidden corner behind. She sensed his urgent need matched hers. As they reached the front steps of the club, Adam tossed his ticket at the snoozing teenager on valet duty. "I'll be back in a minute for my car."
The boy scrambled for the appropriate key. "Yes, sir, Mr. Rutledge."
Without speaking, they wound through the parking lot. When they reached her car, Adam caught her up in his arms and kissed her hard, as if he hadn't touched her for days instead of a matter of minutes. His mouth's demanding hunger reduced the world to just the two of them. Still holding her in his arms, he raised his head.
"Olivia, I want you to know there hasn't been anyone for a long time."
"Does that mean you're desperate?" she blurted out, her insecurities running away with her mouth.
He chuckled as he slid the backs of his fingers against her cheek. Although she couldn't see it, she felt the intensity of his gaze. "No. It means I'm choosy. Very, very choosy." He bent his head and kissed her, a slow, lip-clinging, mind-drugging, heat-infusing kiss. "But I am desperate for you." He brushed her lips with his once more. "I'll be right behind you," he promised, looking back as he strode away.
Olivia remained against her car, uncertain she was actually capable of driving.
She opened the door and fell into the seat, the bright light of the interior harsh compared to the soft moonlight. Olivia killed the dome light and fumbled for her glasses. She slid her mask to her forehead and donned her glasses. She cranked the car and pulled out of the space. Adam's car lights flashed in her rearview as she turned left onto the highway.
If she hadn't seen him drive up in his car, wearing the costume he'd described earlier, she wouldn't have known him. Tonight everything about him—his voice, his scent, his touch—tapped something deep inside her.
Although she had her occasional wild impulses, there had never been anything of this magnitude. Tonight was so out of character for her, she should be frightened. But it was excitement that rendered her hands unsteady on the wheel. The only thing that scared her now was that Adam might change his mind on the drive.
She checked her rearview mirror. Yeow! Let him get a look at this and he'd change his mind for sure. Tortoise-shell glasses and a black velvet mask hiked to her forehead—not pretty. Without her glasses, she was a one-woman wreck waiting to happen. But the minute she pulled into the driveway, they were history.
* * *
Luke followed Olivia. Don't change your mind, he silently willed her.
But what kind of son-of-a-bitch considered sleeping with his brother's girlfriend? A worrisome remnant of his conscience niggled him. The kind who knew Adam didn't really care about Olivia. The kind who knew she had never responded to Adam the way she responded to him. The kind who couldn't manage a coherent thought after kissing her. The kind pulling into her driveway behind her…
In three quick strides he caught up with her as she fumbled with the key in the front door lock.
"Let me help you with that." He reached around her, fitting his hand over hers, and inserted the key. Wisps of her hair tickled his chin. The curve of her buttock teased his erection. His hand shook so badly, it took both of them to open the door. Olivia in her seductive mode stirred the wildness in him to fever pitch.
He followed her into a small, dark foyer. The door barely closed behind them before she turned to him. He reached for her as she launched herself at him, her mouth demanding, her hands eager as they worked at the buttons of his shirt. His body surged a response, impatient to find release in her. He struggled to remember something important he should discuss with her. Her hips ground against him and his brain skipped to autopilot.
Harsh breathing—his—echoed in his ears. She mewled deep in her throat as his tongue parried with hers. He damn near came.
"Honey, we've got to find your bedroom or your couch because I can't—"
"No."
She'd changed her mind. He tensed, painfully near the point of no return. But if Olivia said no, then it was no. "No?"
"Forget the couch or the bed. Here. Now." Her voice, low and husky, seduced him. She stroked him through his breeches, her touch a trail of fire. "Against the wall. Just the way you described it at the club, in the garden…"
He backed her against the door before she finished her sentence. "Against the wall like this?"
Her sharp intake of breath transmitted her approval. Her breathing rasped as harshly as his own. "Yes."
She unzipped his pants and he sprang free. Luke gritted his teeth and barely held himself in check when her fingers found the thick fluid at his tip and spread it down his shaft.
He jerked up the stiff material of her skirt until it bunched around her waist. He held it in place with one hand. Her breath came in short, sharp pants. Her eyes glittered behind her mask as she brought her fingers to her mouth and tasted him. He could barely speak. "Raise your skirt like this?"
She licked her lips and surged against him. "Yes. Just like that."
He delved between her thighs and discovered wet satin. Pushing the material aside, his fingers found her honey-drenched folds. "Oh, baby." His voice shook. "Put your hands on my shoulders." Cupping the soft, plump mounds of her buttocks, he lifted her and tested himself against her slick wetness. "Liv, you are so hot. So wet."
She wrapped her legs around his waist and strained against him. "Yes. Yes. For you."
For him. His Lady Olivia. He lowered her onto his shaft. "Slip into you like this?" He braced her against the door and clenched his teeth. As he slid farther into her, she took him to a place he'd never been before, where the current of emotion ran as fast and deep and twice as treacherous as mere physical desire.
Deep within her body, her muscles tightened around him in response. "Yes. Just like that."
He thrust three more times and Olivia began to climax. The shudder that gripped her, affected him as well. Luke threw back his head and joined her in a release. And for the first time in his life, it was more than a physical release. The fact that they'd just had hard, fast sex didn't diminish the wellspring of jumbled emotion he felt for Olivia.
Her legs still wrapped around him, she slumped against the door. A satisfied smile curved her lips
. Male pride surged through him. He had put that smile on her face. And regardless of how fast she ran this time, he'd be right behind her. And doubtless, she'd run. She wouldn't be pleased when she discovered his true identity. But he'd discovered the buried treasure and he wasn't giving her up. She was his booty.
She opened her eyes with a flutter of lashes. A subtle shift of her lips transformed her smile to suggestive seduction. She trailed her finger down his chest to his belly and beyond to where their bodies remained joined. "Ready for a little pillage and plunder?"
* * *
Olivia tumbled back onto her bed, bringing Adam along with her. For the first time ever, she wished she owned something more risqué than pima cotton sheets. For the first time ever, she'd discovered delicious satisfaction and the restless ache for more.
Moonlight filtered through the sheer drapes at the window, bathing the room in a soft glow. It reinforced the surreal quality of the night. She'd swear she'd embarked on an out-of-body experience, except her body was very much involved. The red blink of the answering machine on her bedside table heralded a message. A responsible woman would check her messages. But she'd thrown off that particular gown tonight. Quite frankly, she was much more interested in her pirate than finding out if Marty had landed himself in jail or if the literacy council was meeting next week. She ignored the persistent blink of the red light.
"I'm sure you'd be much more comfortable out of that dress," Adam teased as he reached behind her and tugged at her zipper. In the amount of time she'd known him, he'd never teased before. She liked this playful side of him. But then again, he'd done a lot of things tonight he'd never done before. And she liked all of them. She could get used to him sprawled across her bed, coaxing her out of her clothes.
Olivia slid off the bed and shimmied free of her starched pleats. She'd lost her earlier sense of urgency, yet not the anticipation of touching him again. Slowly, she raised her hands to the pins in her hair, conscious of the upthrust of her breasts. With sensual deliberation, she released her hair, exhilarating in the weight and slide of it against her bare shoulders. She stood, clad in her mask and merry widow, illuminated by moonbeams.
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