torn between conscience and chemistry. Chemistry won as Jake curved her own wrist around her back and drew her close to him again. 'Your effect on me is quite the opposite, and I like the way you make me feel.'
'You really do?' Charlie queried uncertainly, a tide of red sweeping up over her pale face as her body responded with quivering eagerness to the powerful strength of his embrace. She was hopelessly confused. She couldn't understand why he blew hot and cold. She couldn't understand men, full stop! she thought helplessly.
With a husky chuckle Jake bent his dark head, if you need me to confirm it after the past few hours, then I obviously have not fulfilled your expectations.' And he took her shocked open mouth with his in a display of erotic expertise that left her in no doubt of his desire for her
'This is madness ' Jake groaned a moment later, lifting his head to look down at her with stormy black eyes. 'But you are a fire in my blood and I can't resist you.'
Charlie should have been flattered by his comment, but there was something suspiciously like resentment in his dark gaze that sounded warning bells in her head. He was a gorgeous virile male, streets ahead of her in experience and sophistication, and yet he said it was madness. Perhaps it was! She had fallen headlong in love with him but what did she really know about him? Other than that he was a fabulous lover and they had come together with what some, herself included, would say was unseemly haste, since meeting two days ago!
'Maybe I should leave," she said stiffly, it's late.'
After he had admitted he was burning for her, not a confession he usually made, Jake was disconcerted by her sudden about-face. Dark colour flared over his high cheekbones, and he drew in a ragged breath and relaxed his hold on her. Having spent years calling the shots with the women in his life, he found it a salutary experience to have Charlotte do the same to him. His heavy-lidded eyes half closed as he stepped back and glanced at his wrist-watch. 'You're right, it's after one—there's no point waiting for a cab. I'll drive you home.'
Charlie thought she had offended him, so the relief she felt was immense when he drew up outside the apartment block with a squeal of brakes and turned to her. 'Thank you for a wonderful day, Charlotte, and an even better evening. Give me your number and I will call you tomorrow. Something so good should not be ignored.' He grinned.
Quickly she withdrew a business card and pen from her purse, and wrote Dave's number on the back. She also took out her door key.
'Home and here,' she murmured as Jake took the card from her fingers, and slid out of the car to walk around the bonnet and open the passenger door.
'Come on, Charlotte.' He held out his hand and, relieved, she took it and walked up the steps to the entrance foyer.
She swiped the card through the slot, and the glass doors slid open. "Good evening, Miss Summerville,' the security guard on the reception desk called out. Charlie returned the greeting, and then glanced back at Jake, reluctant to part from him but not sure how to proceed. Stupid, she knew, when not long ago she had been in bed with the man but she couldn't help it. Before Jake she had imagined love to be some perfect life-enhancing dream: the insecurity she now felt had not been part of it.
Sensing her dilemma, Jake cupped her face in his hands, and brushed his lips to hers. 'Goodnight.' He felt her tremble and smiled. 'I'll call.' And he left.
His smile and gentle kiss lingered on her lips like a benediction and when she reached her apartment she fell into bed and slept like the proverbial log.
Charlie yawned and stretched, then groaned. She ached in places she never knew she had. Jake. She murmured his name, and images of the previous day ran tike a video recording through her mind. A deep, shuddering sigh escaped her and even the line cotton cover felt too warm on her overheated flesh.
She glanced at the bedside
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