by Molly Evans
A small gasp came from her, and then she took a deep breath, her gaze holding on to his. Carefully, she placed one of her hands on his arm, and the heat of her burned right through his sleeve. The air between them sparkled.
“I want tonight. I want you to hold me for one night. To pretend for just one night that there are no barriers between us. Nothing to hold us back. Just a man and a woman who might have cared about each other had the circumstances been different.”
“Victoria,” he said, his voice dark, husky, making her shiver. This was the first time he’d used her proper name. “I’ll hold you tonight. I’ll spend this night with you, make love to you, with you, because I want it, and you want it.”
Her gaze flashed to him, wanting it to be true, hoping she’d not just imagined his words. If this was the end between them, she wanted to have everything out in the open. Raising her head and taking a deep, tremulous breath, she held her hand out to him. “I think I’m ready to leave, Dr. Torres. Will you join me upstairs?”
Without a word he took her hand in his and escorted her away from the crowd, the lights, the atmosphere that neither of them truly belonged in. In silence they walked away. With her hand still in his, he felt the tremors, the moisture of her palm, and knew she was as nervous, as excited as he was. Moments later, closed into the elevator with two other couples, he stood beside her, observing her statuesque, svelte form, and wondered how he had not seen the true Victoria. She had been everything then that she was now, just in different attire. Perhaps he hadn’t wanted to see it. Perhaps he had chosen to close his eyes to what had been right in front of him the entire time she’d been working at the clinic. In the years he’d worked there he knew he had become more jaded, more disillusioned with life. Now he realized the depth of his despair if he had missed seeing the true Victoria in the simple clothes she’d hidden beneath.
After an interminable wait, the other couples got off the elevator at their floor and the doors slid closed silently, leaving them alone together. Trembling with need, with want, he turned his head and looked down at her.
There was nothing simple about Victoria Sterling-Thorne. She was the most gorgeous, compassionate, smartest woman he’d ever known, and he was an idiot for not recognizing what she was sooner.
Miguel didn’t know how to feel, how to act, how to be inside. The knots in his stomach hadn’t gone away all night, even though everything that had occurred was for the benefit of their clinic and the people in their community. He was humbled by the outpouring of support from people he didn’t know and never would have turned to for help. All because of Vicky. Victoria.
With silence and sizzling tension between them, he escorted her out of the elevator and to her room. The hall was quiet, the dim lighting providing a smoky atmosphere where anything seemed possible. There was definitely magic in the air tonight.
“I’ll…I’ll just get the card…out of my purse.” She didn’t look at him, just opened her bag.
Without a word he watched her fumble with the silly little bit of fabric that could hardly be called a purse. Nothing more than lipstick and a key would fit in that thing. She had her back to him as she leaned toward the dim lighting.
Unable to avoid looking, unable to resist the temptation of her any longer, he allowed himself one long, lingering look at the silken length of her back, at what was revealed by the upsweep of her hair that bared the long, delicate curve of her neck. The hairpin decorated with diamonds that he hadn’t noticed before twinkled like stars. The crisscrossed silken ties of the dress over her back revealed more of her than he’d ever seen and only whetted his appetite for more. He swallowed and tried to choke down the words that struggled to surface in him. He had to apologize, he needed to apologize. He’d been an idiot, but the words wouldn’t come. Somehow, he would make it up to her. Somehow, he would make it right between them. Tonight.
“Dammit. It won’t work,” she said as she struggled with the key card.
He was just inches away and moved forward, placing his hand on her left thigh. She stilled instantly and stiffened, her breathing quick and shaky. Every sense he had was filled with her. “Shh. Shh. You have to take it slow, easy,” he whispered close to her, and let his lips touch the outer curve of her ear, let the tip of his tongue trace the shape. She shivered, and didn’t pull away from him. “Take it slow. Ease it in.” In a precise move he placed his right hand over hers and guided the card into the narrow slot with a smooth movement of their hands joined together, and then pulled back with the same action.
Green light, a click and the door opened. With a ragged breath Vicky turned her face toward him and tilted it up, her eyes soft with the same want that raged inside of him. Her breath came in short pants, and she rested her head on his right shoulder.
“Miguel.”
The whisper of her voice was a siren song that filled his mind, and he was powerless to resist the call. He felt the trembling muscles of her stomach, of her hips, as his fingers slid upward. Releasing her hand, he turned her face toward him and closed the gap.
As if knowing the moment had come between them, Vicky met his kiss with parted lips. Eager, anticipating, wanting. There was no longer any pretense between them. They wanted each other, and tonight was the night to bare secrets, souls and skin.
Clasping his arms around her, he brought her lithe body against him. Every curve, every line of her pressed against him as she answered his kiss. He cupped a hand against the back of her head while he plundered her mouth. Her tongue, soft and sweet, answered his call and desire raged through him. Somehow, he managed to walk them into the room before the lock snapped shut again. Turning with her, he pressed her against the door, trapping her with his body.
Vicky raised her arms and wrapped them around Miguel’s neck. The feel of him against her was so strong, so right. Her heart thundered in her chest, and desire like she’d never known raced through her body. Tingles and memories of what her body wanted, what it could do, made her want Miguel naked. Now.
She pushed against the tux jacket and succeeded in getting his attention long enough to drop the thing to the floor. His hands ranged over her and then paused to cup her bottom, tipping her hips up against the heat and strength of his arousal. A groan caught in her throat.
Desire spiraled through her body, and moist heat flowed. The trembling inside grew as she cupped her hands around Miguel’s face, pushing back slightly. “I want to undress you.” She bit her lip. Such bold, wanton statements had never come from her. She was shy and an introvert, but with him aroused and wanting her so, shyness melted away to the truth. “I want to see you.”
He planted a sweet kiss on her lips. “Are you positive you want this?” He looked at her, vulnerability that she’d never seen blatant in the warm eyes. “That you want this night and…me?” He swallowed.
She knew that she loved him, that the feelings in her heart were true. “I’m more sure than I’ve ever been about anything.” She let her glance fall to his parted lips. His breath rushed in and out, and she felt the racing of his heart beneath her hand. He was as vulnerable as she.
With a groan, he pressed his lips to hers again, tugging and almost drawing her into him. Her trembling fingers released the cummerbund first then she turned her attention to the buttons of his shirt, releasing them one by one and revealing the smooth, tawny skin beneath. She shoved the shirt open. He was simply a beautiful man. And for this night he was hers.
Eyes watching her, ranging over her body, Miguel stepped back long enough to remove his shirt. And she swallowed, her mouth nearly watering at the sight of him. Casually, he reached for his waistband and released the catch, removed his shoes then socks.
“Oh, my.” She stilled as nerves that she’d thought had fled returned in full force. What if she didn’t please him? What if…? So many haunts of the past tried to return, but she focused on the want in Miguel’s eyes, vowed to live in the moment and shoved away the past. She reached out to him, but he caught her hand and press
ed a kiss to the palm, his gaze never leaving hers.
“My turn.”
He reached for her shoulders and turned her away from him. The hot feel of his wet mouth on her bare shoulder nearly dropped her to her knees. He pressed his arousal against her bottom, his hands drawing her hips back. One hand ranged upward over her stomach, and paused at a breast, testing and teasing it. Then his mouth moved to her ear. “How do you get this dress off?”
“It’s kind of complicated,” she whispered, and looked up at him. Desire shone hot in his eyes.
“I see that. How did you get it on?” Another kiss to her shoulder made her shiver.
“With difficulty,” she said, and pressed her forehead against his cheek, settling now into the feelings, the essence of him, allowing the pleasure of the moment to wash over her, savoring every nuance of the moment that she knew was never going to come again.
“Let me see what I can do.”
He placed his hands on her thighs and began to bunch the dress up into his hands, drawing the silken material up her legs, revealing more and more of her body to him. Allowing him to touch her, to let himself have free access to her was a glorious feeling. He eased the material up over her bottom and then stilled.
“Is something wrong? Is it stuck?” she asked.
“Oh, no. Not at all.” Seconds later he pulled the dress upward, and she raised her arms as he removed it completely. It landed on the floor with a light clatter of sequins and swoosh of silk. “A thong is a beautiful thing. Seeing you in one is even better.” He sighed and let his hand stroke over her perfectly shaped bottom. “You have the loveliest curves I’ve ever seen.”
Heat suffused her at the compliment and shyness fell away. She turned to face him, the moment of truth revealed. The desire to run, to cover herself, raged within her, but when she looked up at him she was paralyzed by the beauty of him as he looked at her. In that moment she was absolutely lost in him.
Miguel swallowed as he turned her around and took her hand. He wanted this woman with everything he had in him. Allowing his gaze to wander, he looked at her from head to toe, memorizing everything revealed to him, for him. Her hair remained up, a necklace of gems gleaming around her neck. Lovely, pink-tipped breasts stood high. The inner curve of her narrow waist, the slight roundness of her abdomen and the scrap of tiny fabric called a thong made his mouth water. Long, endless silky-smooth legs that he wanted wrapped around his hips tapered down to trim feet and high-heeled sandals. He held her hand and stepped back from her, seeing her, watching her, appreciating the beauty of her from shoes to smile.
“As long as I live, I will never forget this moment, this picture of you right now.” He raised his gaze to hers, and his heart cramped from the beauty of all she was, inside and out. The anger, the resentment simply fell away from him. There was no place for it here tonight.
“Neither will I.”
Unable to resist the temptation of her any longer and no longer willing to try, he moved in front of her, allowing her nipples to touch his chest. “I want to touch you, to taste you, to feel every inch of you against me.”
“Yes.” She reached for him, and he scooped her up and carried her to the bed. Turning, he fell backward with her sprawled on top of him. As much as he adored it, the thong had to go, and he tugged the thing off her then shoved away the remainder of his own clothing.
With his hot skin against hers, Miguel pressed her back into the silken softness of the cool bedding. His mouth plundered her and left her breathless and wanting more. His hands were all over her, the light rub of calluses stirring her more than she’d thought possible.
He eased away and used that hot mouth of his to blaze a trail down her neck, over her collarbone and to her breast. Teasing and sucking her nipple, he held her captive as he pressed the hot length of his erection against her leg. Every sense in her soared to life as he touched and teased and tested her ribs, her abdomen, her hips.
Squirming beneath him, she wanted him trembling as much as she was. “Come here. I need you.”
He raised his head and met her eyes. She dug her fingers into his hair. “Soon. Very soon,” he whispered, and pulled away from her, continuing to kiss and lick and tease his way over her body. The inside of her ankle, the inside of her knee fell victim to his kisses and caresses. Her thighs fared the same as he made his way upward, pausing at the juncture to place hot, stirring kisses in each corner. When he opened his mouth over her core, she clutched the bedding and bit her lips together to stifle the scream in her throat.
The heat of his tongue traced over her tender woman’s flesh, stirring her to heights she’d not known existed. Her body, stirred beyond comprehension, sizzled. When he eased a finger inside her, she crashed, her body no longer her own.
Then he was kissing her again and she held him tight, wanting to please him as much as he pleased her. He pulled back, breathless, and pressed his forehead against hers. “Are you on birth control?”
“No. Where’s my purse?”
Turning, he looked around, then left the bed and returned with the tiny thing. “This won’t help what I want to do.”
She took it from him, extracted a condom and threw the purse across the bed. “This will.” She tore the wrapping open and pulled out the little bit of magic inside.
“You came prepared,” he said, and took it from her.
“No. I came with hope.” With her hands over his, they eased the protective sheath down over him. “Love me,” she said, and tears clouded her vision.
“I do,” he whispered an instant before his mouth covered hers again.
The weight of him pressed her down, and she reveled in the textures and sensations of him against her, feeling delicate and protected all at once. He drew one of her knees up and eased it outward, giving him greater access. Her hands urged him on, and she tilted her hips up to receive him inside her.
Miguel pressed forward, the heat of him parting her flesh and filling her as far as he could go. This was the way love was supposed to be made.
He stilled, catching his breath, or the night was going to be over long before he intended. The feel of her hot flesh surrounding him, pressing on him, nearly made him cry out from the sheer pleasure of it.
Joined with her now, it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever experienced. Easing back, he wanted to prolong the pleasure for both of them. The pace he set was slow and designed for ultimate pleasure. When she locked her legs around his hips and squeezed, the time for slowness ended. He clasped her hips in his hands and fell hard into her, surging forward and back, letting his body take over, giving up any semblance of control.
Vicky dug her fingers into his upper arms, and she turned her face to the side. He pressed his mouth to her ear. “Don’t hold it in. I want to hear you.”
Turning back, she pressed her cheek to his and her breath warmed his skin. She gasped and clutched him tighter as her body responded to him again, and he lost all the control that he’d once thought he had.
Unable to suppress the wave that surged through him, he went with it, allowed it to take him under, and he drowned himself in the passion of the moment. Crying out his own pleasure, he held her tight as the final pulses of his body drifted away.
He rolled over, taking his weight off her, and, drawing her to his side, he held her against him.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“ARE you okay?” he asked, and let his hand stroke its way down her back and over the curve of her hip.
“Oh, yeah. I’m good,” she said, still marveling at the fire between them. Making love with Miguel was more than anything she’d imagined. “How about you?”
“I’m good, too.” A sigh of contentment rolled out of him.
As his touch soothed her and stroked her skin she allowed herself to reciprocate and explored his chest and abdomen with her fingers. Intimacy with Miguel was an experience she’d never thought possible and here she was, right where she wanted to be. It was so much more than she’d hoped for.
“I guess this is it, then, isn’t it?” she asked, tugging her robe more tightly around her. Though they’d recently left a very hot shower she felt cold and she hugged her arms around herself as she watched Miguel dress. The pain in her chest had begun when their last kiss had ended. It was over, and she knew it.
His jacket lay on the end of the rumpled bed with a bundle of envelopes sticking out of the inner pocket. That was the reason they were there, for the benefit of the clinic, not to satisfy her personal needs. The hope that she had come into this night with faded away. Even hope as strong as hers couldn’t overcome some things.
“This has been a night I’ll never forget.” He pulled her closer and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. In a hurried movement he picked up his jacket and left the suite. The snap of the door closing shut ended any chance for a reconciliation between them. It was final.
Exhausted and anguished, she somehow made the drive home and brought her belongings in from the car, but dropped the suitcase by the front door and left it there. There was no name for the type of pain and numbness that overwhelmed her.
Although she’d left her cottage not twenty-four hours ago, it felt and smelled stale, as if a lifetime had passed. She opened several windows to catch the breeze from the river. Dressed in shorts, a plain shirt and flimsy sandals, she grabbed a bottle of water and her cell phone, and headed out to the vineyard.
This was her solace, where she would find the peace she needed, and hopefully the strength to go on after knowing what a night with Miguel was like, knowing she’d never have it again. After the past month of working and planning for the event, she was exhausted. She felt like Cinderella on the day after the ball. At least the event had been a wild success and Miguel would be able to move on knowing that the clinic was as solvent as it could be.