it was impossible to miss.
Her mind emptied itself of everything except this
thunderstorm of sensation rocketing through her and a need more intense than
anything she’d ever felt in her entire life. The kiss didn’t just burn with
erotic lust. It carried with it an unexpected feeling of intimacy that flooded
her with need.
When he lifted his mouth from hers, the look in his eyes
burned itself into her body. His fingers, hot as branding irons, tightened on
her arms. For a moment she felt like hurricane survivors do, swept up in the
aftermath of the winds. Then his grip loosened and he moved back an inch.
“I want to say I’m sorry but I’m really not.” He closed his
eyes for a moment, his breathing choppy. “I don’t—I haven’t—I can’t…” He shook
his head as if the appropriate words escaped him. “This is wrong.”
She bobbed her head like a marionette. “Yes. Wrong.”
“We should be focusing on the tragedy we’re in the middle
of.”
“Yes,” she repeated. “We should.” Why couldn’t she put a
coherent sentence together?
Finally, with obvious effort, he stepped away from her. “I’m
sorry, I shouldn’t—”
She was still catching her breath. “I’m not sure we had a
choice. It just…we just…”
He pulled himself together with obvious effort. “Let’s fix the
coffee, Regan. And talk.”
Okay. Talk.
About her brother? The beast? The kiss?
Unable to string enough words together to make sense, she
kept silent while Dante helped her measure and spoon and pour. There was so
much sexual tension in the kitchen, Regan was sure they could have just touched
the coffeemaker and it would turn on. When the coffee was brewing, he turned
back to face her, this man who electrified her senses, tilting her chin up with
one strong finger.
He said nothing, simply studied her eyes for what seemed
like an interminable moment. Her heart raced so fast she thought it would pound
itself out of her chest, and just that one point of contact made her breasts
ache for his touch and liquid flood her panties. Even the muscles in her cunt
spasmed.
Holy god!
She tried to draw in a full breath but her chest felt
constricted. Her throat was so dry she couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but
stare into his eyes, consumed by the heat blazing in them.
His body shuddered with the visible effort to control
himself and he finally took a step back.
“We’re going to talk,” he said in a rough-edged voice. “I’m
going to answer all your questions. And maybe you’ll answer a few of mine.”
“Y-Yours? What can I possibly tell you?”
“I don’t know, but you’re keeping something back.” His
irises, unbelievably, grew even darker. More intense. “If you want me to help
you, we have to lay it all out on the table. Both of us.”
He waited. Finally, she dipped her head just once.
“Good. After that I’m going to make arrangements for you to
come out to the ranch tomorrow. Then, if I’m smart, I’ll tell you good night
and leave here.” A muscle twitched in his jaw. “But I can’t promise you I’ll be
that smart. I may not be able to keep myself from doing something incredibly
stupid. Just giving you fair warning.”
The coffee was ready and somehow Regan managed to get two
mugs down from the cupboard, pour the steaming liquid into them and find her
way back into the living room without dropping anything or tripping over her
feet.
Doing something incredibly stupid? Did he think
having sex with her—because what else could he mean—was stupid?
Well, of course it was. For her too. They barely knew each
other and they had a tragedy to deal with. More than one. With very bizarre
circumstances.
She made it to the couch on legs not quite steady, sinking
thankfully into the soft cushions. Cradling her mug in her hands, she sipped
the hot brew. Dante slipped off his leather jacket and tossed it on an ottoman,
folding himself into the armchair. It put him as far away from her as he
Her mind emptied itself of everything except this
thunderstorm of sensation rocketing through her and a need more intense than
anything she’d ever felt in her entire life. The kiss didn’t just burn with
erotic lust. It carried with it an unexpected feeling of intimacy that flooded
her with need.
When he lifted his mouth from hers, the look in his eyes
burned itself into her body. His fingers, hot as branding irons, tightened on
her arms. For a moment she felt like hurricane survivors do, swept up in the
aftermath of the winds. Then his grip loosened and he moved back an inch.
“I want to say I’m sorry but I’m really not.” He closed his
eyes for a moment, his breathing choppy. “I don’t—I haven’t—I can’t…” He shook
his head as if the appropriate words escaped him. “This is wrong.”
She bobbed her head like a marionette. “Yes. Wrong.”
“We should be focusing on the tragedy we’re in the middle
of.”
“Yes,” she repeated. “We should.” Why couldn’t she put a
coherent sentence together?
Finally, with obvious effort, he stepped away from her. “I’m
sorry, I shouldn’t—”
She was still catching her breath. “I’m not sure we had a
choice. It just…we just…”
He pulled himself together with obvious effort. “Let’s fix the
coffee, Regan. And talk.”
Okay. Talk.
About her brother? The beast? The kiss?
Unable to string enough words together to make sense, she
kept silent while Dante helped her measure and spoon and pour. There was so
much sexual tension in the kitchen, Regan was sure they could have just touched
the coffeemaker and it would turn on. When the coffee was brewing, he turned
back to face her, this man who electrified her senses, tilting her chin up with
one strong finger.
He said nothing, simply studied her eyes for what seemed
like an interminable moment. Her heart raced so fast she thought it would pound
itself out of her chest, and just that one point of contact made her breasts
ache for his touch and liquid flood her panties. Even the muscles in her cunt
spasmed.
Holy god!
She tried to draw in a full breath but her chest felt
constricted. Her throat was so dry she couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but
stare into his eyes, consumed by the heat blazing in them.
His body shuddered with the visible effort to control
himself and he finally took a step back.
“We’re going to talk,” he said in a rough-edged voice. “I’m
going to answer all your questions. And maybe you’ll answer a few of mine.”
“Y-Yours? What can I possibly tell you?”
“I don’t know, but you’re keeping something back.” His
irises, unbelievably, grew even darker. More intense. “If you want me to help
you, we have to lay it all out on the table. Both of us.”
He waited. Finally, she dipped her head just once.
“Good. After that I’m going to make arrangements for you to
come out to the ranch tomorrow. Then, if I’m smart, I’ll tell you good night
and leave here.” A muscle twitched in his jaw. “But I can’t promise you I’ll be
that smart. I may not be able to keep myself from doing something incredibly
stupid. Just giving you fair warning.”
The coffee was ready and somehow Regan managed to get two
mugs down from the cupboard, pour the steaming liquid into them and find her
way back into the living room without dropping anything or tripping over her
feet.
Doing something incredibly stupid? Did he think
having sex with her—because what else could he mean—was stupid?
Well, of course it was. For her too. They barely knew each
other and they had a tragedy to deal with. More than one. With very bizarre
circumstances.
She made it to the couch on legs not quite steady, sinking
thankfully into the soft cushions. Cradling her mug in her hands, she sipped
the hot brew. Dante slipped off his leather jacket and tossed it on an ottoman,
folding himself into the armchair. It put him as far away from her as he
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