his chest. She tasted him, tasted coffee and spice, and opened her mouth even more, so that he could take whatever he liked.
“If I took you,” he whispered into her mouth, “would your body open to me so hungrily?”
She moaned, and his mouth grew demanding, his arms began to bruise her against his. With unexpected abandon, she dragged her chest against his so that he could feel how wildly she wanted him, and his hand caught in her long hair as he tugged her head back to look at her face.
His eyes were narrow and glazed with passion, his jaw taut. He let his gaze move down to her breasts, and his free hand began at the top of her dress. He opened the first button, and the second, holding her eyes now, daring her to protest, to stop him.
“I’m going to bare you to the waist, Amy,” he said quietly. “And I’m going to feed on you, with my eyes and my mouth.”
She was trembling wildly now, with no thought of denying him what she wanted so desperately. Her body arched toward him, yielding, hungry. She could barely breathe for the hunger. And just as he reached the button between her lace-clad breasts, a door opened somewhere down the hall.
Without thinking, she pulled free of his arms and got to her feet, fumbling buttons into holes.
He leaned back and stared at her as she struggled to smooth ruffled hair and straighten her dress. Something dark and soft lingered in the eyes she didn’t see. He reached out and retrieved her hairpins.
“Here,” he said gently. “Don’t forget these.”
“Thanks.” She took them, meeting his dark eyes.
His fingers caressed hers as he handed over the pins. “Forget that interview tomorrow,” he said. “Stay.”
She met his eyes. “Worth, I won’t sleep with you,” she said, putting it bluntly as the footsteps came closer.
“All right,” he replied easily.
She shifted, her gaze going toward the door. “I…”
“I won’t back you into a corner,” he promised. “I can’t offer you a future, Amy. And since I can’t, I won’t compromise you. Is that word old-fashioned enough, or should I say that I won’t—” and he used the modern vernacular, and grinned wickedly when she glared at him.
“You have a horrible mouth,” she shot, brushing back her long, tangled hair.
“Yours is exquisite,” he returned, glancing at it wistfully. “I’ve never kissed anything so soft and sweet.”
“I’m going home,” she muttered. She got her purse and started out the door, almost colliding with Jeanette.
“Hello, dear.” The older lady grinned. “I thought you’d gone. Worth, Clara wants me to come over for bridge tomorrow night, will you drive me?”
“Of course,” he said.
Jeanette looked from one of them to the other. “No arguing,” she told them firmly, mistaking the tension. “And don’t you dare try to run her off, Worth, or I’ll put myself in a nursing home!”
“God forbid, they’d expel you by the third day,” Worth said with lazy good humor.
“Hmph!” she grumbled, and smiled at Amelia. “I’ll see you tomorrow, dear. Good night.”
“Good night,” Amelia said, and smiled back.
She didn’t even glance at Worth, but was thankful her legs didn’t fold on the way out the door.
She lay awake for a long time that night, thinking about the delicious interlude in his arms. She’d wanted him to open her dress, she’d wanted him to look at her and touch her. She’d trembled with hungers she barely understood. Was she crazy to agree to stay on? He’d promised not to compromise her, but what would she do if he put pressure on her? She couldn’t refuse him if he kept kissing her. She wanted him.
And what did he want? An interlude or someone to cuddle, but not to keep? Was he being sweet so that she’d stay because his grandmother liked her so much? Or did he just feel sorry for her?
In the end, she decided to live one day at a time and hope for the best. At least she wasn’t getting emotionally involved with Worth. That,
“If I took you,” he whispered into her mouth, “would your body open to me so hungrily?”
She moaned, and his mouth grew demanding, his arms began to bruise her against his. With unexpected abandon, she dragged her chest against his so that he could feel how wildly she wanted him, and his hand caught in her long hair as he tugged her head back to look at her face.
His eyes were narrow and glazed with passion, his jaw taut. He let his gaze move down to her breasts, and his free hand began at the top of her dress. He opened the first button, and the second, holding her eyes now, daring her to protest, to stop him.
“I’m going to bare you to the waist, Amy,” he said quietly. “And I’m going to feed on you, with my eyes and my mouth.”
She was trembling wildly now, with no thought of denying him what she wanted so desperately. Her body arched toward him, yielding, hungry. She could barely breathe for the hunger. And just as he reached the button between her lace-clad breasts, a door opened somewhere down the hall.
Without thinking, she pulled free of his arms and got to her feet, fumbling buttons into holes.
He leaned back and stared at her as she struggled to smooth ruffled hair and straighten her dress. Something dark and soft lingered in the eyes she didn’t see. He reached out and retrieved her hairpins.
“Here,” he said gently. “Don’t forget these.”
“Thanks.” She took them, meeting his dark eyes.
His fingers caressed hers as he handed over the pins. “Forget that interview tomorrow,” he said. “Stay.”
She met his eyes. “Worth, I won’t sleep with you,” she said, putting it bluntly as the footsteps came closer.
“All right,” he replied easily.
She shifted, her gaze going toward the door. “I…”
“I won’t back you into a corner,” he promised. “I can’t offer you a future, Amy. And since I can’t, I won’t compromise you. Is that word old-fashioned enough, or should I say that I won’t—” and he used the modern vernacular, and grinned wickedly when she glared at him.
“You have a horrible mouth,” she shot, brushing back her long, tangled hair.
“Yours is exquisite,” he returned, glancing at it wistfully. “I’ve never kissed anything so soft and sweet.”
“I’m going home,” she muttered. She got her purse and started out the door, almost colliding with Jeanette.
“Hello, dear.” The older lady grinned. “I thought you’d gone. Worth, Clara wants me to come over for bridge tomorrow night, will you drive me?”
“Of course,” he said.
Jeanette looked from one of them to the other. “No arguing,” she told them firmly, mistaking the tension. “And don’t you dare try to run her off, Worth, or I’ll put myself in a nursing home!”
“God forbid, they’d expel you by the third day,” Worth said with lazy good humor.
“Hmph!” she grumbled, and smiled at Amelia. “I’ll see you tomorrow, dear. Good night.”
“Good night,” Amelia said, and smiled back.
She didn’t even glance at Worth, but was thankful her legs didn’t fold on the way out the door.
She lay awake for a long time that night, thinking about the delicious interlude in his arms. She’d wanted him to open her dress, she’d wanted him to look at her and touch her. She’d trembled with hungers she barely understood. Was she crazy to agree to stay on? He’d promised not to compromise her, but what would she do if he put pressure on her? She couldn’t refuse him if he kept kissing her. She wanted him.
And what did he want? An interlude or someone to cuddle, but not to keep? Was he being sweet so that she’d stay because his grandmother liked her so much? Or did he just feel sorry for her?
In the end, she decided to live one day at a time and hope for the best. At least she wasn’t getting emotionally involved with Worth. That,
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