Heart of Gold by Tami Hoag Page A

neglected to mention to me. Is there, Faith?”
    “No,” she murmured.
    Why didn’t he back off and give her some room? Being wedged between the wall and his body was having a devastating effect on her mind. Her eyes kept drifting to the bare width of his shoulders and chest. A sculptor couldn’t have carved a more artistic representation of the male animal. His muscles flexed and rippled in the moonlight. A square pad of white gauze was taped to his left shoulder, but it didn’t detract from his masculine beauty; it only emphasized the fact that he was a dangerous man.
    “Then there’s nothing to worry about if I decide to go upstairs, is there?” he said.
    Faith felt she had plenty to worry about—the coil of desire tightening inside her, the feel of Shane’s rock-hard thighs imprisoning her, the fact that she seemed to want to stare at the sharp, firm lines of his mouth. At the moment she was more afraid of this immediate threat than the one she had received over the phone.
    “No,” she whispered, not certain whether she was answering his question or denying the sudden ache of needs long neglected.
    “No,” Shane echoed, very aware of what he was denying. He could feel himself growing heavy and hard against the pillow of Faith’s body as she stared at his mouth. It was a toss-up as to whether he was angrier with her for tempting him or with himself for knowing he was about to give in to that temptation.
    “There’s nothing to worry about,” he said in a low, rough voice, “unless this is what you came looking for.”
    It was more an assault than a kiss. Shane’s mouth slanted across Faith’s, angry and demanding. His fingertips dug into her shoulders, pulling her even more firmly against his bare chest. She bent back like an archer’s bow under the pressure, her hips arching into his in a way that made his state of arousal very apparent.
    Faith’s first instinct was to get away from him, but that response was almost immediately overtaken by another, more powerful instinct she seemed to have no control over—the instinct to give in to him. The desire was so strong that she sagged against him and her lips softened beneath his, allowing his tongue access to her mouth. Pure fire seared her veins at the intimate invasion, at the heady taste of him.
    When Shane’s right hand slipped inside her open robe to cup her breast, she nearly cried out, the pleasure was so intense. His long fingers explored her through the silky fabric of her gown, his thumb flicking across the nipple that was already hard and aching. All the while his tongue plunged and receded in the warmth of her mouth, his message more than clear. He wanted her.
    He wanted her. He didn’t respect her. He didn’t seem particularly fond of her. In fact, he had insinuated she was a criminal.
    Then what in the world was she doing kissing him, Faith asked herself as common sense returned in a painful rush. It was accompanied by a sharp dose of self-loathing. What was wrong with her that she could feel attracted to this man who thought so little of her? Lord, he had all but said she’d come upstairs looking for this!
    Tearing her mouth from beneath his, she jerked out of his arms and slapped him hard. The sound was like a shot in the still of the night. Shane stared at her, his expression a mix of anger, surprise, and thwarted passion.
    Faith cursed herself again at the rush of desire she felt looking at him. He was only half-dressed. With his black hair tousled and his features outlined in the moonlight, he looked like an elegant savage.
    “What’s the matter, Faith?” he asked, his voice a menacing, silky purr. “Isn’t seducing a federal agent in your repertoire?”
    His sarcasm cut her to the quick. She took a step back and started to turn, ready to run to the sanctuary of her room, but she stopped herself.
    Who did he think he was, accusing her of wrongs she hadn’t committed, pushing her around in her own home, taking advantage of her