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Authors: Heather Graham
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innocent?”
“Oh, God!” She groaned.
“Come on, I’ll see you to your room.”
They made the trek to the elevator again and then down the hall to her room in silence. She made no protest when he took the card key and unlocked the door. He pushed it open, turned on the light, and strode into the room, making no excuses as he checked out her closet and bath.
“All clear,” he murmured cheerfully.
“Thanks,” Donna murmured.
He moved to where she stood in the doorway. In that small space, they were very close. The scent that was male and pleasant came to her again, and it suddenly seemed as if her knees could very easily buckle. She gazed into his eyes with their misted gold and green, and felt a fierce trembling along with the desire to reach out and touch the bronzed texture of his cheek. He was a priest, she tried to remind herself. But the thought wouldn’t come; he was a man, one who attracted her more than she had ever thought possible, one who reached out to her, excited her, stirred her…touched her. Something happened to her in those moments, something that she would never understand.
The seconds ticked by as they stared at one another. She couldn’t seem to move…not until he did. His hand came to her waist, slid to her hip, then slowly up her spine until his fingers wound into the hair at her nape. She had no thought to fight him as he tilted her head back, as his free hand slipped around her, bringing her firmly against him. He was hard and warm and wonderful, and she felt the length of his body with her own before she closed her eyes and felt the gentle force of his lips touching her own, urging them apart.
She felt his tongue, moving, caressing, exploring more and more deeply, as probing as his eyes, touching her soul, exciting her, making her feel faint. She clung to him, she lifted her fingertips to his cheeks. Freshly shaved, slightly rough. Very masculine. She returned the kiss, seeking him as he sought her, relishing the hardness of him, in the beauty of sensation that made her feel both faint and very, very alive. Sparks touched her system, trembling throughout her, seizing her, releasing her. He created a hunger in her, something so strong it couldn’t be denied. She wanted to forget the world around them and know more of him. She wanted to have him beside her, holding her, naked, touching her….
He raised his head, smiling as he stared down at her dazed eyes. He steadied her. “Tomorrow, Donna,” he murmured, and then he was gone.
Donna watched his dark-clad back and broad shoulders as he walked down the hallway. She echoed a small sound of horror and shame and slammed the door, closing her eyes as she leaned heavily against it.
She groaned aloud, shaking. A priest! Dear Lord, a priest had kissed her, and she had wanted it. Wanted much, much more. She had wanted to lie beside him, to make love to him. She! A woman who had spent twelve years in Catholic schools. Oh, if the nuns could see her now. Donna Miro, falling for—a priest.
“No…no…no!” she whispered in dismay. Her face flamed a brilliant red and she raced the few feet to the bed, throwing herself on it to rock back and forth. What was happening to her, and what in heaven and hell was going on?
CHAPTER SIX
L UKE ENTERED HIS BEDROOM and stripped off his jacket with uncustomary speed, tugging at a sleeve while combing through his closet. He saw what he wanted—a pea-green, tattered army sweater. A moment later he was tugging on the sweater and replacing his dress pants with a pair of worn jeans. He started out his bedroom door, but a slight sound alerted him to turn back.
A figure, shrouded by the darkness, was crawling through the garden window. It straightened and stared at Luke.
Both men were of equal height. The intruder was slimmer, and the character of his face was masked by a dense growth of beard and an untrimmed mustache. The dark hair on his head was as wild and tangled as his beard; his clothing more
“Oh, God!” She groaned.
“Come on, I’ll see you to your room.”
They made the trek to the elevator again and then down the hall to her room in silence. She made no protest when he took the card key and unlocked the door. He pushed it open, turned on the light, and strode into the room, making no excuses as he checked out her closet and bath.
“All clear,” he murmured cheerfully.
“Thanks,” Donna murmured.
He moved to where she stood in the doorway. In that small space, they were very close. The scent that was male and pleasant came to her again, and it suddenly seemed as if her knees could very easily buckle. She gazed into his eyes with their misted gold and green, and felt a fierce trembling along with the desire to reach out and touch the bronzed texture of his cheek. He was a priest, she tried to remind herself. But the thought wouldn’t come; he was a man, one who attracted her more than she had ever thought possible, one who reached out to her, excited her, stirred her…touched her. Something happened to her in those moments, something that she would never understand.
The seconds ticked by as they stared at one another. She couldn’t seem to move…not until he did. His hand came to her waist, slid to her hip, then slowly up her spine until his fingers wound into the hair at her nape. She had no thought to fight him as he tilted her head back, as his free hand slipped around her, bringing her firmly against him. He was hard and warm and wonderful, and she felt the length of his body with her own before she closed her eyes and felt the gentle force of his lips touching her own, urging them apart.
She felt his tongue, moving, caressing, exploring more and more deeply, as probing as his eyes, touching her soul, exciting her, making her feel faint. She clung to him, she lifted her fingertips to his cheeks. Freshly shaved, slightly rough. Very masculine. She returned the kiss, seeking him as he sought her, relishing the hardness of him, in the beauty of sensation that made her feel both faint and very, very alive. Sparks touched her system, trembling throughout her, seizing her, releasing her. He created a hunger in her, something so strong it couldn’t be denied. She wanted to forget the world around them and know more of him. She wanted to have him beside her, holding her, naked, touching her….
He raised his head, smiling as he stared down at her dazed eyes. He steadied her. “Tomorrow, Donna,” he murmured, and then he was gone.
Donna watched his dark-clad back and broad shoulders as he walked down the hallway. She echoed a small sound of horror and shame and slammed the door, closing her eyes as she leaned heavily against it.
She groaned aloud, shaking. A priest! Dear Lord, a priest had kissed her, and she had wanted it. Wanted much, much more. She had wanted to lie beside him, to make love to him. She! A woman who had spent twelve years in Catholic schools. Oh, if the nuns could see her now. Donna Miro, falling for—a priest.
“No…no…no!” she whispered in dismay. Her face flamed a brilliant red and she raced the few feet to the bed, throwing herself on it to rock back and forth. What was happening to her, and what in heaven and hell was going on?
CHAPTER SIX
L UKE ENTERED HIS BEDROOM and stripped off his jacket with uncustomary speed, tugging at a sleeve while combing through his closet. He saw what he wanted—a pea-green, tattered army sweater. A moment later he was tugging on the sweater and replacing his dress pants with a pair of worn jeans. He started out his bedroom door, but a slight sound alerted him to turn back.
A figure, shrouded by the darkness, was crawling through the garden window. It straightened and stared at Luke.
Both men were of equal height. The intruder was slimmer, and the character of his face was masked by a dense growth of beard and an untrimmed mustache. The dark hair on his head was as wild and tangled as his beard; his clothing more
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