by Lowe, Fiona
He cleared his throat and then swallowed hard—his Adam’s apple moving jerkily. “We should go now before we lose the light.”
She held his desire-filled gaze with her own. “I guess we should.”
But neither of them moved.
Apart from his breathing, he was perfectly still. But every breath he took expanded his chest into hers, caressing her breasts and sending his heat and lust spinning into her.
She asked the question she knew the answer to. “You’re not going to kiss me, are you?”
“No.” The tiny syllable came out on a croak of overstretched restraint.
Her fingertips skated across his jaw propelled by her need to touch him. “Because you gave me your word?”
“That’s right.” His lips hardly moved and it was as if they’d had difficulty framing the words.
His code of principle and honor bound him as tightly as if he was tied by ropes, and she could clearly see the battle waging in his eyes. The battle not to kiss her.
She realized she could have some fun and be kissed at the same time. “So, no matter what I do or say, you’re not going to kiss me?”
“No.” He shuddered out a breath. “I’m not going to kiss you.”
“I understand.” She ran her hands down his arms to his waist and after a quick flick of the cotton, she slid them under his shirt where they touched smooth, hot skin. It scorched her hands and she wanted to feel more.
He stiffened against her as every muscle tightened, and his erection pressed against her bare thigh. Any lingering doubts she might have had that he didn’t find her attractive, fled.
“What if I kissed you? Would you kiss me back?” She smiled as her hands pressed against his lower back, and her thumbs gently kneaded the skin. “I mean, that’s still kissing me, right?”
A growling sound came from his throat and a wild look tore across his face. As his hands slid back to her waist, she worried he’d pull away. She’d had her fun but now it was time to put him out of his misery. Put herself out of her misery. She rose on tiptoes and pressed her lips softly against his closed mouth. She tasted sunshine, a hint of peanuts and a shot of desire. She wanted more and her tongue ran along the seal between his lips.
His hands tensed against her sides and his mouth slackened slightly. With anticipation, she dove in and started to explore. Heat dominated and it seared her before infusing her with a myriad of flavors. All of them tasted like need.
He groaned against her mouth but he stayed perfectly still, amazing her with his self-control. She flicked out her tongue, driven by a memory and wanting to revisit a place that had given her so much pleasure. She traced the tip of her tongue slowly along his inside cheek, trawling it across his teeth, and then with deliberate, lazy intent, she outlined the groove in his tongue.
His hands instantly shot to the sides of her head and his thumbs gently pressed against her cheeks. Then he angled her mouth for perfect access and took control. His tongue stroked hers for a moment and electricity arced between them, lighting her up with bliss. Then he started a concentrated exploration of his own. Her hands curled around his neck as she hung on to the most delicious onslaught of sensations she’d ever known.
His left hand pulled at the ties of her halter top, and her breasts, heavy with aching need, fell from their scant support and she sighed. With his mouth still on hers, he cupped her breasts with his hands and his thumbs drew tiny circles across her nipples until she was wet and throbbing and thought she’d come on the spot. She fell to her knees, impervious to the feel of the pebbles on the beach, and he came down with her. With a jerky tug, she pulled his shirt over his head and as his mouth moved down her neck she pressed her mouth to his shoulder. He was beautiful—tanned skin over toned muscle—and she wanted to kiss all of him and then go back and trace him with her tongue.
His mouth closed over her breast. Exquisite fire lit through her and her head fell back with a moan as colors exploded in her mind. His arm pressed against her back for support, and his erection pressed against her belly. For a second, she wondered how her knees could still hold her upright but then she lost herself in the touch of his hands, the heat of his mouth and the pure wonder of him under her fingers. Nothing mattered but this moment, and all her muscles throbbed for him with all-consuming need.
He pulled her onto his lap and she felt his erection firm under the material of his shorts. She wanted him inside her. She wanted to grip him tightly and ride him until she shattered into a thousand tiny pieces of pure and unadulterated pleasure. Without hesitation, she wrapped her legs around his waist. The hard cotton of his shorts pushed up against the thin material of her bikini, caressing her, and her body started to rock against him.
With a groan, his mouth returned to hers as if it was home, and his tongue continued its rampage, as did her own. Nothing existed except his mouth on hers and she’d never been kissed like this before. Their hands roamed all over each other as they moved together and then his fingers tangled with the ties that held her bikini briefs together.
Somewhere, something deep in the recesses of her mind yelled, “Stop.”
It was supposed to be a kiss. Sex wasn’t part of the plan. Her hand covered his as she hauled her mouth away.
Wild-eyed and panting, he seemed to be staring at her as if he was a long way away. “What?”
She scrambled off his lap. “I’m sorry.” Seeing his gaze on her breasts she hastily retied the halter top and shivered. “I’m cold.”
Deep dimples curved into his cheeks and his mouth pulled into a lazy, yet wicked smile. “Sweetheart, there’s enough heat between us to warm Alaska for the next seven winters.”
And so help her but she knew he was right.
He reached out his hand and skimmed a finger down her arm, and she jumped at his touch. Her words came out on a wail. “We don’t have any protection.”
“You have got to be kidding.” A sigh shuddered out of him. “I’ve worked hard to keep my hands off you for four days, so exactly what did you expect was going to happen when you kissed me like that?”
She bit her lip, hating that she’d put them both in this position of mind-altering lust but without protection. “I didn’t think it through.”
“No.” His voice was hoarse and his eyes held an agonized look of unwanted control. “Next time you try and seduce me, please have a condom handy.”
The image of her straddling him with her head thrown back took the breath from her lungs. You fool. Guilt made her snap. “I don’t make a habit of trying to seduce men and this was a one-off aberration. There won’t be a next time.”
He laughed. “Now that I know you can’t keep your hands off me, there’ll definitely be a next time. Come to think of it, I suddenly feel the need to visit Whitetail Drug.”
To her shame, the thought had her instantly hot and tingling and she scraped her wet hair behind her ears, hoping it would cool her down. “I think we should go back now.”
He winked at her. “Sadly, Whitetail Drug won’t be open.”
Another thrill shot through her. Oh, God, why are you so damn gorgeous?
Can you please just focus? The sensible voice in her head drove her back on track. “Very funny.” She crossed her arms in an attempt to stop her breasts tingling and to try and look serious. “I meant we should get back to your family who’ll be wondering where we are. Plus if you remember, I ne
ed to organize a place to stay tonight.”
He spoke quietly, his previous teasing vanishing fast. “We’re exactly where we need to be.”
His answer made no sense and she studied his suddenly tight face. “I beg your pardon?”
Weariness clung to his voice. “With my mother in the cottage, and Dana’s ‘no staff in the house’ rule, the only place with an available bed is on this island.” He pointed to a path that disappeared up from the beach and into a stand of birch trees. “In my cabin.”
Silver spots danced in front of her eyes and she heard her sharp intake of breath. A few minutes ago they’d been seconds away from having sex and now she had to share a cabin with him? She wanted to sit down and cry. How the hell had she got herself into this mess?
Lust.
Shut up.
She tried unsuccessfully to hide the desperation from her voice. “Please tell me you have a spare room.”
He shook his head slowly. “Not even a sofa. Just a queen-size bed.”
As his words sunk in, she heard the cry of the osprey calling for its mate and she looked toward the tree in the distance. It was a crying shame she couldn’t fit into that nest.
Chapter Eight
The light on the bow of the boat glowed yellow across the dark water and besides the slip of the oars, the only other sound was the haunting wail of the loons. Finn could have used the motorboat to get Annika’s stuff, but he’d chosen to row and to row hard. His body still hummed with her wholesome scent of apples and cinnamon, and her exotic taste of hot and heady need. Did she have any clue how sexy she was when she’d looked at him with those liquid blue eyes and asked, “You’re not going to kiss me, are you?”
It had been nothing short of torture feeling her hands on him and her lips against his, and given he’d known they had to share the cottage there’d been no way he was going to kiss her back. He’d managed to stay strong right up to the moment she’d deepened the kiss. Then her hunger for him had hit like a force-five tornado, totally undoing him and firing up his craving for her to the point he thought he’d either explode or go insane. So he’d kissed her back. It still stunned him how fast and how quickly the kiss had become a catalyst for something so much bigger. Had it been left to him to pull back, he wasn’t sure he could have.
But she’d pulled back and now he was pulling oars. He couldn’t believe that he didn’t have condoms in the cabin but why would he? He’d never brought a woman there. The cabin was his domain and one he didn’t care to share with anyone, not even family. The boat hit the beach with a thud and he sighed. That had just changed. Now he had to spend the night in the cabin with Annika, knowing it wasn’t safe to touch her because if he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop until he’d buried himself deep in her hot body, and lost himself in oblivion. His body tightened at the thought.
Don’t go there. He jumped out onto the sand as the boat hit the island’s beach and he hauled the boat beyond the water line, before picking up her suitcase, extinguishing the light and headed up the path. Solar lights and a huge moon lit his way and the cabin’s porch light was on but the rest of the place appeared to be in darkness. Had Annika gone to bed?
Bed. He didn’t want to think about Annika in bed. His bed. He’d left her an hour ago with the suggestion she take a shower and he’d set out one of his T-shirts and an old pair of running shorts for her to wear until he returned with her clothes.
The squeak of the screen door sounded overly loud as he stepped inside. He switched on a lamp, expecting Annika to be curled up in one of the old but comfortable club chairs watching the way the moonlight played across the lake. “Hello?”
But there was no reply. Surprised, he made his way to the bedroom. The bedside lamp was on low and Annika lay asleep. Her chestnut lashes brushed her cheek and her hair spread out on the pillow like a white fan edged with gold. She looked peaceful which was hard to believe given how manic they’d both been on the beach. Her huge day must have caught up with her and he imagined losing her home was more stressful than she’d let on. He admired her ability to keep on going against the tide of the economy but he wondered if her staying in Whitetail was the best thing for her.
She’d pulled his Egyptian cotton sheet right up under her chin and the light blanket reached her waist. He could see the hint of deep blue from his Yale T-shirt where the sheet fell from her shoulder, and as his eye followed its curve it stopped short on the rounded edge of a bolster pillow. He moved into the room and saw an uneven line running parallel with her back. Annika had stuffed the bed with pillows, creating a barricade.
He swallowed a chuckle and smiled. Did she really think some feather down and cotton slips were going to stop them from having sex? For the first time since he’d realized he had to share the cabin with her, he felt calm. He kicked off his shoes, shucked his shorts and shirt and slid into bed with a blissful sigh. They would have sex. It wouldn’t be tonight, but it was going to happen and for now that knowledge was enough. He dumped the pillows onto the floor and drifted into a deep sleep.
* * *
Annika woke up slowly. She was loathe to leave behind her dream where she was curled up on a chair on her cottage’s veranda, warm and content, and at peace with the painting on her easel. She knew without a doubt that the painting was good, and that feeling had been gone so long she wanted to stay in the dream and hold on to it with both hands. But the dappled morning light tickled her eyelids and she moved to stretch her arms and legs to greet the day. Her limbs stiffened so fast she risked injury. Her leg lay along the length of another and that leg wasn’t waxed, so it wasn’t hers. All traces of sleep vanished and she realized with horror that instead of her top arm being curved between her breasts it was curved around a waist, and her fingers were caressing a narrow trail of hair that disappeared under an elastic waistband.
Finn. She was wrapped around Finn like gift wrap.
No, no, no. She rolled away so fast she tumbled out of the bed, falling heavily onto the hardwood floor. “Ouch.”
A sleepy businessman rolled into the space she’d just vacated and stared down at her with delicious bedroom eyes. He gave her a long, slow smile. “I see you’re starting the day as you plan to continue.”
She stumbled to her feet, tugging on the edge of the T-shirt he’d lent her, which smelled so much like him and barely covered her bare bottom. Backing out of the room, she walked straight into the doorjamb, adding another bruise to her fast-growing collection. “Coordination comes with coffee.”
“Really?”
She shook her head and gave him a wry smile. “Sadly no. Not even on the days I drink too much.”
He swung two deeply tanned legs out of bed and rose to his feet in an easy, fluid motion. Her eyes immediately dropped to his boxers, which were pushed forward magnificently by his early morning erection.
“Sweetheart, my eyes are up here.”
Her skin burned and her head jerked up to his laughing face. She was totally out of her depth so she went into damage control, which came out snarky. “Where’s my suitcase?”
He ambled toward her and rested his hand on the door frame above her head. “And to think I’ve been accused of being grumpy in the mornings.”
She tried not to breathe in too deeply. “Not just the mornings.”
“Touché.” He stroked her cheek. “I left your bag in the other room.”
His touch sent tingles skittering and turned her mind to mush
, but she somehow managed to stammer out, “Thanks.”
He stepped to the side and the teasing softness disappeared and the efficient businessman slotted back into place. “I’ll use the bathroom now and leave you to get yourself organized. You’ll find space in the dresser and wardrobe for your clothes. There’s enough food to make breakfast but we’ll need to shop so make a list of what you like to eat. I know you’re meeting with the brides this morning but I need you to format some documents first. Can you be ready to leave at seven-thirty?”
“Absolutely.” Glad to be firmly back in her role as his P.A., which was a lot less confusing than the rest of her life, she fled into the main room.
She’d explored the cabin last night while Finn was retrieving her stuff—not that she’d needed a compass or a map. Unlike Kylemore with its many large and generous rooms, this cottage was a very simple rectangle. One third of the space was taken up by the bedroom and a small bathroom with a tub, which had such an amazing view of the woods that it was like bathing outside. The rest of the cabin was open living space which included the kitchen, an eating nook and a sitting area. A large stone fireplace with a hand-hewn pine mantel dominated one side of the room and on the other was a huge double-glazed window, providing an enormous view of the lake. White ash paneling gave the space light and warmth and the obligatory game and fishing photos graced the walls. She especially liked the one of young Finn holding aloft a big musky and standing next to a man who looked like an older version of Sean.
The living space extended to the outside where a large veranda with a herringbone log rail ran around the four sides, almost doubling the livable area. There was a glider seat, numerous Adirondack chairs and a barbeque. Annika had instantly fallen in love with the cabin and had she been able to live here alone it would have been the most perfect accommodation.