„Nothing.“
In silence he helped her down, opened her kitchen door and flicked on the lights while she disabled the alarm. „I’ll take a rain check on the tea,“ he said quietly. „You must be tired.“
„No.“ The word exploded from her lips, surprising them both. She drew a breath and unbuttoned her coat. Let’s just get this over with. „No, stay. Please.“ She tossed off her coat and busied herself with the teapot, listening to the rustle of his coat hitting a chair, cursing the trembling of her hands when half a spoonful of tea ended up on the counter.
„Kristen.“ His voice came from behind her. Deep and nimbly and soothing. „It’s all right“
No, it’s not all right. She dropped her chin to her chest. „Maybe you were right. I am tired.“ I am so not good at this.
She flinched when his hands covered her shoulders, but his hands didn’t force, they soothed, massaging her shoulders in wide circles that made her want to sigh and beg him never to stop. He slipped her jacket from her shoulders before returning to his task and she could feel the heat of his hands through her blouse as her body slowly began to relax.
You are so good at this, she thought.
„Thank you,“ he said and she realized she’d voiced her thoughts aloud. His voice had gone deeper, huskier, and a hard shiver racked her body, head to toe. For just a moment his hands tightened on her shoulders, then let go, moving up to the back of her neck. His thumbs pressed the taut cords on either side of her neck and her knees went weak. One strong arm came around, catching her just under her breasts and… she let him. Let him support her. Let him pull her against his body.
His very hard body. Hard in all the wrong places. She jerked forward, putting distance between them, suddenly tense again. Without a word he released his hold, moving his hands to her shoulders, starting all over again. Gentling me, she thought.
„Um-hm,“ he murmured and again she knew she’d spoken aloud. „And me,“ he added.
„You?“
„You’re not the only one who’s nervous here, Kristen.“
She looked up at him over her shoulder. His face was stark, almost grim. „Why?“ It came out a whisper and his hands stilled, and for a moment he said nothing.
Then he whispered back, „Because you say you have no family when your father is still alive, and you say you studied art in Florence, but I don’t see anything in this house that you’ve painted. Because you said that victims never, ever forget. Because someone hurt you, and I’m terrified I’ll do something to make you think I’d hurt you, too. Because I won’t.“
But he would. Her heart cracked as she acknowledged the fact inside. Outside, she nodded. „I know.“ Because he wouldn’t mean to. And perhaps because some tiny part of her still wished with all her might that his words would be true.
His eyes bored into hers. „Do you?“ His hands smoothed over her hair and she felt him feel for, then tug a pin from her hair. It clattered to the counter and he pulled out another.
„What are you doing?“ her voice was low-pitched, raspy.
„Taking down your hair. These pins have driven me crazy all day.“ It was a low murmur and sent a new hard shiver racing through her body. His eyes flashed and he pulled out more pins. Her hair sprang free and his hands delved deep, his ringers scraping gently across her scalp. On a low moan her eyes slid shut and every bit of oxygen left her lungs. His hands felt so good, so absolutely necessary.
She’d been driving him crazy. The thought was nearly enough to make her giddy.
One hand slipped from her hair to bracket her jaw and his thumb swept across her cheek, much as it had her palm earlier. She opened her eyes with difficulty, feeling almost drowsy with pleasure. His face was closer now, much closer.
His lips brushed her temple and she stopped, simply stopped breathing.
„There’s one more reason I’m scared,“ he murmured, his breath hot against her skin.
„What?“ She mouthed the word, but her voice never emerged.
„I wanted you the first time I saw you. I want you now.“ His whispered admission shook her, shocked her. She should be afraid, terrified.
But I’m not. Instead she was tempted. Then his lips were on her cheek, scant inches from her mouth. So tempted. All she had to do was turn her head a little bit and his mouth would be on hers. And she wanted to. Wanted to feel the heat of his mouth, to know how it felt to be kissed by a man like him. „Abe.“
He abruptly stilled. „Say it again,“ he demanded. „Say my name again.“
She swallowed hard and somehow found her voice. „Abe.“
He shuddered and the vibration of his body found its way into hers. Sharp little tingles singed her skin, sinking deep, making her yearn for more. Then all thought fled when he moved his head, closing those scant few inches to her lips. His mouth covered hers, hard and soft at the same time, impossibly hot. And she wanted more. She turned her body toward his and in one hard beat of her heart his arms were around her, hands splayed against her back, burning her skin. He slanted his head, deepening the kiss and her arms lifted, her forearms resting on the solid rock of his chest. His hands gently grasped her wrists, urging her arms up and around his neck. Then his hands were on her back again, his fingers pressing hard into her flesh, urgent. Desperate.
And the kiss went on and on and on.
Abruptly he broke it off. Disappointment crashed over her in a wave until he took one of her hands and placed it over his heart. Feeling the wild thunder under her palm, she looked up and knew as long as she lived, whatever happened in the next day, in the next minute that she’d never forget the way he was looking at her. Like he can’t get enough of me.
„I can’t.“ His eyes blazed, blue as the core of a flame and she knew she’d once again voiced her thoughts, but embarrassment was the farthest emotion from her mind. „Feel what you do to me, Kristen. Please, don’t be afraid.“
„I’m not.“ I’m really not. To prove it to him, and perhaps to herself, she pulled his head down for another kiss, this one shorter, but hers. Then pulled back to find him smiling and her heart took a great leap, then tumbled. There was such sweetness in his smile, such ease, such relief. She felt her own lips curve in response.
„I’m glad,“ he said.
„So am I.“
„I have to go.“
Startled, Kristen widened her eyes. „Why?“
His smile became rueful. „Because I want to do a hell of a lot more than kiss you.“
Her breath caught in her throat at the image his words conveyed. It was more than she’d expected, more than she’d planned. „Abe, I – “
He pressed his fingertips to her lips. „It’s okay, Kristen. I can wait.“
She kissed his fingertips and his eyes heated. I can make this man… burn. And she had. She’d felt it in the brief brush of his body against hers as they’d kissed. He’d been aroused. But he hadn’t pressed. Hadn’t pushed. Hadn’t thrust himself on her… Hurting her… And dammit, she was back there, twenty years old and scared out of her mind. Be still. Don’t fight me. You damn tease, you wanted this. The ground was hard and the night was hot and the Ferris wheel went round and round, the lights bright and -
No, no, no. She closed her eyes, drew a breath, and made the memory stop. When she looked up, she could see that he knew. He understood. And he wasn’t running away.
„One day at a time, Kristen,“ he murmured. „That’s what we’ll do.“
We. Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them back. „Why do you care?“
He smiled so gently it made her heart want to break. „Because I like you. Now I’m going to kiss you good night because I have to go.“ He did, a hard stamp of possession. „Be ready tomorrow at four for dinner. Until then, don’t leave the house without Truman, Mclntyre, Mia, or me.“