"I'll rub anything you want."
Her eyes flew open. Before she could say anything, he yanked on her feet, dragging her closer. For a split second he stared before he kissed her. And the heat lingering beneath the surface burst to flame, splintering through her, and she squeezed his biceps, holding on as his mouth moved roughly over hers. She opened for him, then moaned as his tongue plunged inside. So good, she thought, so right.
He kissed her and kissed her, drawing her onto his lap.
Her fingers drove into his hair, dribbled down his throat to his chest. She molded and shaped him as his hands found their way beneath her satin robe.
It was raw, he thought, this hunger, igniting with the merest touch, driving him crazy with the sensations he experienced by just hearing her little whimpers of pleasure. But the feel of her skin was an incredible aphrodisiac. She was soft and scented, so feminine, and that wildness, like a mountain cat, lingered just beneath the surface. He could feel it in her, taste it in her kiss, in the pressure of her breasts against his chest.
In the way her fingers played daringly over him.
"You feel so good, Maddy."
Madison drew back, her arms on his shoulders as she forced her breathing to slow down. Mercy. She was ready to explode, and it wouldn't take much more to give up her resolve and indulge.
"Are you trying to seduce me?" she breathed against his mouth.
He kissed her briefly, a wet slide that made her gasp. "I was going to ask you the same thing."
"Then I guess we'd better stop this."
"Are you always so level-headed?"
"Not when you kiss me."
He smiled. "Nice to know I can weaken you a little."
She arched a brow.
"You can't believe for a second I'm not coming apart at the seams every time we touch."
Yes, she did believe it, because sensations were still rocketing through her body and testing her courage. She wanted him as she had wanted no other man. He was a sexy, desirable playboy. But she was merely convenient. "All the more reason to say good-night now, Alexander." She left his lap.
Alex watched her vanish into the suite, then braced his elbows on his knees and clutched his head in his hands. He drew a shaky breath. His body throbbed like a tribal drum, the tempo slow to ease.
He shouldn't have laid a hand on her, but her wild streak lured and he was a sucker for it. He was heading for trouble if he gave in to temptation again. No, he thought, looking up and watching her slip beneath the sheets. It was already here.
* * *
He hadn't touched her since last night. Not a casual brush, not a single kiss. Not even for Angus's benefit. Madison almost wished he'd touch her. Anything would be better than the incredible tension running along with her blood. She knew he was trying to ignore her, put distance between them, yet he was the kind of man women sensed before seeing, his every look was filled with a heated message. So much that Angus asked if there was something wrong just as they'd left. She felt isolated, greedy for his touch even when she reminded herself that any more than kisses and a couple spine-wracking touches – she'd be deep in the mud, sucked into him like quicksand. Fighting the pull was harder than breathing and she felt like a high-strung racehorse, chomping to be free.
During the ride back to the inn and the trip in the elevator, unnamed sensations simmered, making her skin tingle, her senses acute to the man beside her. It was as if she could feel his body beneath his clothes, the sheer sensuality of him. It taunted her, and his dark glances, smoldering and aware, scraped her like claws.
One dig and she'd peel down to her skin for him. He pushed open the hotel room door, the fragrance of warm apples and cinnamon breezing the air as he flipped on a lamp. She followed him in. He crossed the room to the ice bucket and popped the cork of a bottle of Chardonnay. He glanced at her, his look inquiring and she shook her head and with a bundle of her clothes, slipped into the bathroom. Her shower only served to sharpen her body's awareness, of him and her own feelings, and when she stepped out of the bathroom, he was near the living room, his gaze moving heavily over her.
Savage. Electrifying.
Alex felt like a stag scenting his doe, the space between them feeling like inches instead of yards. Behind him the huge bed loomed, the air fragrant with hot spice and cloaked in darkness. He watched her move to the dresser and put her things away, the long maroon satin robe shifting over her skin like liquid. Part of him wondered if she was naked beneath it. Part of him wished she was bound to her throat like a nun.
She never looked more elusive to him than she did now.
Every nuance was wrapped in a catlike sensuality and he told himself that was her lure – the dark fire brewing in her – but he knew otherwise. It was her. The woman who drew lines around herself as he had around his own world; the woman who held a stranger's baby as if it were her own and made heads turn when she walked into a room. A woman who forced him to step back and look at his life and see its value against the simplest of things.
She came toward him, the satin molding her incredible legs parting enough to show their sleek-muscled lines and making him crave to touch and taste every inch of her. The day-long denial made him reach when he shouldn't, his fingers brushing her arm. She stilled, her gaze colliding with his. Her eyes were glossy, on the verge of tears.
Something hard shattered inside him.
He whispered her name, his hand sliding over her stomach, fingers curling around her waist, and when he urged, she came to him, plowing her fingers into his hair and tipping his head to hers.
The first touch of her mouth was soft, like a breeze, and when her tongue slid over the line of his lips, Alex came apart, claiming her mouth with the ferocity he'd held in check. Hot. Possessive. And she stole a piece of him with every touch of her lips, with every part of herself she gave him so willingly.
Each shift and moan ground through him, weakening him, softening his knees. His hands rode up her back, pushing her tighter to his chest.
Madison gripped his hair and ravaged his mouth and knew she could put a stop to this with one word. But that would take thinking – and she only wanted to feel. And when his hands swept her body, parting the robe, shaping her ribs, then enfolding her breasts, she let him, purring for him as he rubbed, toyed with her nipples through the silk chemise. Her kiss grew stronger, hotter, her hands skipping over his shoulders, feeling his strength.
He staggered back, sinking into the love seat and shifting her to straddle his lap, tasting the slender line of her throat, pushing the robe off her shoulders to pool and catch at her elbows. She rose up, offering, and he tugged the chemise straps down. Cool, spiced air hit her bare breasts.
"Beautiful," he murmured as he wrapped his lips around her nipple, drawing deeply.
She gasped and arched, whispering his name and clutching him to her breasts as he tasted and played, his teeth scoring the tender underside before he dragged his tongue around her nipples again and again. Her breath shuddered, her sex hot against his stomach, and he opened his eyes, meeting her gaze.
She licked her lips, watching his tongue move over her flesh as if she were sweet cream for the taking. She couldn't pull her gaze away. It was too erotic to ignore, felt too good to stop, and when his hands found their way beneath the satin, enfolding her buttocks, she groaned at the splendid feeling of his palms on her naked flesh. She was alive now, feminine and desired. Hungry for pleasure. Now.
"Your skin is so smooth." He squeezed and pushed her down against him, his arousal separated from her by only slivers of cloth. She whispered his name, thrusting subtly against him, taking his mouth with a wildness that defied thought. His fingers dipped into her dewy folds, and she whimpered against his lips, clawing, rocking.
"You're on the edge, aren't you?"
She nodded shakily.
"Let me see it." His hand slipped deeper between them, fingers parting her and she flexed, gripping his shoulders. He stroked her delicately and she gasped for bre
ath, over and over.
"Alexander!"
"You're almost there. Do you know what that does to me?"
She thrust against his arousal. "I have an idea."
He smiled, wrapping one arm around her waist, pressing her tight to his groin even as he pushed two fingers inside her.
Eyes locked and held. Alex plied her rhythmically, loving her darkening eyes, her soft, panting breaths. Loving that she was as bold and wild as he'd imagined and that she let him give her this – see this. She rocked and he pushed, aching to be inside her, feel her wrap and grab him. She covered his hand, flinching, riding. Alex watched her climax, felt it quiver, ripping through her and into him. He kissed her, devouring her cries, and he held her as her body clenched with a near violent explosion. Alex trembled with the power of it, felt her quaking slowly fade until she let out a soft shudder and she sank against him, burying her face in his shoulder.
"What a magnificent thing to see." She made a pained sound. He rubbed her back, pulling the chemise straps up, then tipping her head till she met his gaze. His gaze searched hers. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing."
"I'm not." She tried leaving his lap, but he held her. "I'm embarrassed."
"Aw, baby, don't be. Please." He brushed his mouth lightly over hers, loving her instant response. "I liked giving you pleasure as much as seeing it." His voice lowered to a dusky pitch. "But the next time, I want to taste that explosion."
She moaned and reddened, pressing her forehead to his. "You just want to see my tattoo."
Only then did he realize he hadn't.
"You gotta let me see." His hand slid beneath her robe and under her chemise.
His touch felt undeniably arousing, yet Madison shook her head, then kissed him softly, loving how his arms slowly wrapped her, squeezed her. Her embarrassment faded to comfort, the intimacy shared crossing another invisible line both tried to avoid. She drew back, her fingertips lingering over his handsome face as the impact of his unselfishness bloomed through her. She slid from his lap and crossed to the deck doors, staring at the glittering black lake, folding her arms over her middle and bracing her shoulder on the frame.
Alex frowned at the solemn look on her face, the way she hugged herself as if she needed protection from him. He wanted her so badly he could taste desire, feel it running through his veins at a hard charge, yet her expression spoke more than she was saying. She was scared. Of him. Of being a fictitious notch on his bedpost, of being discarded. He never expected her to accommodate him after that little bit of pleasure, yet he couldn't predict the future. His own was dangling in the air right now. But it was her forlorn expression that made him feel helpless – and responsible. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt this woman.
Madison sensed him move up behind her, felt the warmth of his body against her, and without pause she leaned into him, laying her head back on his shoulder. His arms wrapped around her, and he buried his face in the curve of her throat, inhaling, his hand smoothing over her stomach, her ribs. Her muscles flexed with new desire, and she reached up, plowing her fingers into his hair.
"You okay?" he asked.
She nodded, unable to voice her confused feelings past the sudden knot in her throat. She reminded herself not to read anything into this intimacy beyond consenting adults having a little fun. Believing every man she dated was the Mr. Right of her life was a ridiculous fantasy. And as wonderful as those moments in his arms were, Alex was certainly no exception to the rule. But the hard truth was that her feelings for him refused to follow the rules.
"Talk to me. What did I do?"
The hurt in his voice felt like a fresh wound. "Nothing, Alexander. It's nothing you've done."
"Well, something's got you down." His lips brushed her ear as he added, "I was hoping I'd put a smile on your face. Was I wrong?"
"No, oh, no." She turned in his arms. "That was wonderful."
His hands on her stilled for a second, his gaze searching hers. "Is that so bad?"
"Yes, when this is temporary, and we are worlds apart."
"No expectations, isn't that what you said?"
She felt duly warned. "Good night, Alexander." She left him, moving to the far side of the bed and sliding beneath the sheets. She didn't look back, lost in her thoughts.
Alex stared at her huddled form for a long moment, hating that she was hurting, when only moments ago she was panting with pleasure, and realizing he was the reason for both. He didn't like feeling like this. It was unfamiliar – but he didn't want to fight it so hard anymore, either.
* * *
Chapter 8
«^»
Madison wouldn't tell him. She couldn't. Every man she'd been intimate with always went running the instant they knew she was a virgin. Men wanted their women pure as a fairy-tale princess, but none were prepared to make love to a virgin. Maybe they'd feel obligated to her, or threatened by "being the first." Perhaps there were women who'd get some notion about love and forever. Madison didn't. Her sister's situation, unmarried with a child, was proof enough of that misunderstanding. Yet experience told her it was the quickest way to douse runaway passion. Men, she knew, didn't want to be held accountable for making that first experience memorable since it would hurt. Ironic, she thought, for the responsibility was hers, not theirs, and she'd decided after her last relationship that if she really wanted to give up her virtue, she'd never reveal the truth until it was too late.
She looked at Alex asleep on the far side of the bed. She had no expectations and couldn't allow a future to materialize, not in her mind or her heart. Her happiness didn't hinge on a man. Alexander Donahue was a confirmed bachelor, despite the feelings they shared. When this "marriage" was over, he would run from her. She knew it. She wouldn't expect any more.
"Why so sad?"
She inhaled, startled and rolled to her side, clutching the sheet to her breasts. "Good morning. I thought you were asleep."
Alex scoffed, not liking her evasiveness. "With you this close?"
His compliment made Madison feel incredibly sexy. "Hungry? I could order up some breakfast."
"I have a better solution." On top of the sheets, his hand slid across the bed, gliding over her stomach.
"Alexander," she warned, yet didn't stop him, couldn't stop him.
He pulled her to him. "I love it when you say my name. Makes me feel like I'm the only man in the world with it and you're the only one who can say it."
Her eyes burned, and she brushed inky-black hair from his forehead, loving that he briefly closed his eyes.
"How about a kiss?"
"You're like that commercial. You can't have just one."
"Not when they taste so damn good."
"You're not playing fair."
He loomed over her, his expression serious. "Who said I was playing?"
She stilled, gazing up at him, refusing to read anything into that. "I thought you were going to show me how good you were at sailing this morning?"
His mouth rolled softly over hers. "In a minute."
She worried his lips with her own, and he shifted closer, his groin pressing to hers through the covers. He hardened against her, and she ached to touch him, know him, yet when her hand rested on his hip, he suddenly drew back, gazing into her eyes for an instant before he flopped back onto the bed.
"Alex?"
"Go, get ready," he said to the ceiling. "Hurry. 'Cause more than the tide is up."
She laughed lightly, slipping from the bed, and Alex forced himself not to watch her walk to the closet for her clothes. He didn't need any more temptation. Her perfume alone drove him nuts. She needed to trust him, was just beginning to, and he wasn't going to blow this relationship because she was the hottest creature he'd ever touched. He wanted more of Madison Holt than her body.
* * *
Madison cast the fishing line, her legs adjusting to the rocking of the boat as Alex lowered the anchor, watching her. She set the rod in the harness and stepped down from the
edge. He patted the space beside him, and his heart tripped when she sank against him.
"I didn't know you liked to fish."
"Love it. What could be better than lounging around waiting for the food to come to you?" She tipped her head to look at him. "I throw a mean shrimp net, too."
He smiled, studying her face. "All those secrets."
"I don't hide anything from you, Alexander. Which is more than I can say for you."
Emotion drained from his features like an emptying glass. "I don't want to talk about the past."
"She hurt you that bad?"
He looked away, squinting in the sun.
"You owe me that."
"I don't owe you anything."
She felt the chill in the air as if winter had settled. She left the bench, but he lurched after her, grasping her shoulder. She twisted.
The gloss in her eyes clawed him right there and then. "Aw, Madison."
"I didn't hurt you, Alexander." Her lips trembled. "Don't make me pay for it."
"I'm sorry. Come back and sit with me."
A look of indecision crept over her beautiful face.
"Please."
The little word wilted her intentions.
Sitting side by side, he coiled nylon rope, the sails snapping against the wind and rocking the craft. He stared out at the boats littering the water like stars on a dark blue sky and it was a long moment before he spoke. When he did, his voice was lifeless, dead.
"Her name was Celeste. We were together for a year. I adored her. She wanted to be my wife."
That he could admit to adoring any woman sent a streak of jealousy through her. "Sounds fine so far."
He shook his head, pain rippling over his features before they cooled to a dark mask. "No. She wanted to be the wife of Donahue Enterprises' president." He looked at her then. "Not mine."
"Ah, she liked the lifestyle more." She flipped open the cooler and took out two sodas, offering him one.
"She claimed she wanted a home."
GOING … GOING … WED! Page 9