took another step that brought his shoulder nearly against her nose. “That’s funny.”
“Not really. I was the only one in the family that would get eaten alive on camping trips. Of course I had the darkest skin, so I think it must have something to do with melanin.” “Somehow I doubt it.” His lashes dropped, a warning of the provocative thoughts he might be entertaining. “If you’re planning on this being a strictly professional relationship, Ms. O’Brien, you should go back to Sister Oaks right now.” She glanced at his lips. They were made for kissing. Just looking at them made her mouth water. “Are you warning me, Mr. Renaud?” “Not anymore. Now I’m kissing you.”
Kate closed her eyes. His finger hooked beneath her chin, nudged it up, his breath whispering across her lips.
It seemed like an eternity passed before his mouth finally touched hers. When it did, the earth undulated and her hands flew up to grasp the front of his T-shirt. She clung to him, lips parting beneath his, breathing him in as his tongue made a gentle, tentative foray inside her mouth. The air around them crackled with electricity, hot, white, dangerous. A sudden, chaotic mêlée of flapping wings and shrill cries rose from the branches high above their heads, as though the kiss disturbed the very birds in this sacred, hushed place.
Kate was lost. She unfolded against him, her fingers sliding into his hair, caressing its cool, rich thickness as she met the sultry dip of his tongue with her own, and reveled in the murmuring sound that rose in his throat.
His arm slid around her waist, pulled her up tight, heart to heart. Against her, his body felt chiseled from stone, from the lean muscles of his torso to the hard ridge of his erection, burning her belly through the thin layers of their running attire.
In response to his unashamed arousal, her body softened, went wet and aching as her hips strained toward him. She wanted to wrap her legs around his waist and squirm closer. He excited her more than any man ever had, and she rubbed against him like a languid cat, craving more.
But Gideon kissed her with oddly restrained hunger; she sensed it in the tightness of his shoulders beneath her hands, and she didn’t want his restraint. She wanted him wild and dizzy and burning up, the way he made her feel with just the slow, languid coupling of their mouths.
Still he withheld his passion, never relinquished control, and when he lifted his head, she knew it was over.
Clearing her throat, she said in a shaky voice, “See? I’m still rational, just like I told you.”
“I could fix that. But we’d both be sorry. I have to let you go.” He released her and walked a few steps in the direction of the estate visible through the trees, his hands on his hips. A runner walking off the thundering effects of an explosive sprint. “Come on, it’s getting late.” Bewildered and still vibrating with unrequited need, Kate followed him into the clearing and fell into a brisk walk beside him. Silence hung like a privacy curtain between them again, heavy with fading desire and growing confusion.
She didn’t like games. She wouldn’t play his; she had nothing left to gamble.
The greenhouse came into view, and her steps slowed as they passed it.
“Do you object to me peeking inside?” she asked abruptly, looking for an excuse to avoid having to walk beside him in stifling wordlessness all the way to the house.
“Go ahead.” He stopped to open the door for her.
Inside the small, transparent building the air was laden with humidity, the glass roof panels beaded with moisture. Kate forgot her embarrassment and indignation as she wandered up the narrow aisle between flats of crimson rosebushes, some blooming, some just sprouting leaves. The scent of roses draped the air, rich and spicy-sweet, the perfume of centuries. Beneath that lingered a green aroma like the earth, limned with the pungent decay of compost and
“Not really. I was the only one in the family that would get eaten alive on camping trips. Of course I had the darkest skin, so I think it must have something to do with melanin.” “Somehow I doubt it.” His lashes dropped, a warning of the provocative thoughts he might be entertaining. “If you’re planning on this being a strictly professional relationship, Ms. O’Brien, you should go back to Sister Oaks right now.” She glanced at his lips. They were made for kissing. Just looking at them made her mouth water. “Are you warning me, Mr. Renaud?” “Not anymore. Now I’m kissing you.”
Kate closed her eyes. His finger hooked beneath her chin, nudged it up, his breath whispering across her lips.
It seemed like an eternity passed before his mouth finally touched hers. When it did, the earth undulated and her hands flew up to grasp the front of his T-shirt. She clung to him, lips parting beneath his, breathing him in as his tongue made a gentle, tentative foray inside her mouth. The air around them crackled with electricity, hot, white, dangerous. A sudden, chaotic mêlée of flapping wings and shrill cries rose from the branches high above their heads, as though the kiss disturbed the very birds in this sacred, hushed place.
Kate was lost. She unfolded against him, her fingers sliding into his hair, caressing its cool, rich thickness as she met the sultry dip of his tongue with her own, and reveled in the murmuring sound that rose in his throat.
His arm slid around her waist, pulled her up tight, heart to heart. Against her, his body felt chiseled from stone, from the lean muscles of his torso to the hard ridge of his erection, burning her belly through the thin layers of their running attire.
In response to his unashamed arousal, her body softened, went wet and aching as her hips strained toward him. She wanted to wrap her legs around his waist and squirm closer. He excited her more than any man ever had, and she rubbed against him like a languid cat, craving more.
But Gideon kissed her with oddly restrained hunger; she sensed it in the tightness of his shoulders beneath her hands, and she didn’t want his restraint. She wanted him wild and dizzy and burning up, the way he made her feel with just the slow, languid coupling of their mouths.
Still he withheld his passion, never relinquished control, and when he lifted his head, she knew it was over.
Clearing her throat, she said in a shaky voice, “See? I’m still rational, just like I told you.”
“I could fix that. But we’d both be sorry. I have to let you go.” He released her and walked a few steps in the direction of the estate visible through the trees, his hands on his hips. A runner walking off the thundering effects of an explosive sprint. “Come on, it’s getting late.” Bewildered and still vibrating with unrequited need, Kate followed him into the clearing and fell into a brisk walk beside him. Silence hung like a privacy curtain between them again, heavy with fading desire and growing confusion.
She didn’t like games. She wouldn’t play his; she had nothing left to gamble.
The greenhouse came into view, and her steps slowed as they passed it.
“Do you object to me peeking inside?” she asked abruptly, looking for an excuse to avoid having to walk beside him in stifling wordlessness all the way to the house.
“Go ahead.” He stopped to open the door for her.
Inside the small, transparent building the air was laden with humidity, the glass roof panels beaded with moisture. Kate forgot her embarrassment and indignation as she wandered up the narrow aisle between flats of crimson rosebushes, some blooming, some just sprouting leaves. The scent of roses draped the air, rich and spicy-sweet, the perfume of centuries. Beneath that lingered a green aroma like the earth, limned with the pungent decay of compost and
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