Love Entwined by Danita Minnis Page A

moan escaped her lips. Her eyes flew open.
    “It’s all right, Amelie. We both want this. Don’t be afraid of me.”
    She shook her head. “I’m not…”
    He leaned his forehead against hers, and sighed.
    She closed her eyes. “It is foolish to deny it. I am afraid of you.”
    He nipped her lips and she looked into his eyes. “You will just have to buck up.”
    “I don’t believe in getting involved with people I work with.”
    He shook his head. “That is ridiculous. We are both adults. You can get involved with anyone you want.”
    “No. I can’t. I’m sorry.” She tried to pull away but he held her.
    “No, love, no regrets,” he lifted her chin. “I am just feeling a little more adventurous than you are right now. Come, it’s getting late.”
    Roman got out of the pool and helped her out. His hands rested on her hips and they stood inches apart, dripping wet.
    He did not bother to mask the hunger in his eyes and in that moment, several things were clear to her. He was a starving man waiting for her to yield her flesh. It was only a matter of time; he would have his way. And finally, raw desire would get the better of her; she would succumb, and with pleasure.
    She looked away.
    He lifted one hand to caress her face, which seemed a small gesture of comfort to soften the reality of the inevitable, and then led her away.
    * * * *
    In the drafting room the next day, Amelie shook her head at the memory of yet another close encounter with Roman. It would not happen again.
    Up to this point, her life had been one of self-control. Her discipline was legendary, but lately, she could not muster it up. She was the girl who always made plans, knew exactly what she wanted to do, and just how she was going to do it.
    But Roman was another animal altogether.
    She could not control this thing between them. She was floundering, anchorless on a turbulent sea of passion. What would she do alone with him for the next few months in the wilds of Yorkshire? Right now, she would do anything with him.
    It had been a close call. Though he harbored an ulterior motive, her ultimate surrender, she was aware of some endearing qualities in him. He could have had her at the pool last night, for she would not have stopped him, and he had not taken advantage of her weakness. Though he had the look of a ravening beast, he did not go any further than she wanted him to.
    She sighed, looking around the drafting room.
    He was in the London office today and she was relieved to have the time alone. This sexual tension between them was not only frightening, but it was wearing her down. Her nerves frayed and she’d had no time to process his appearance in her life.
    The fact that the dreams had stopped did not make her feel any better. She had not had one dream since she met Roman.
    It was clear he had replaced the dreams.
    Stop this.
    She moved to the crates of supplies. She would use the time alone to get organized. When she looked over Roman’s equipment, she saw that most of hers was duplication. He had been right; everything she needed was already here. He was quite the designer himself. Real work was done in this drafting room. However, it gave her a sense of security to know she had her own things with her, equipment she was used to working with.
    She twisted her hair up in a topknot and spread out several glossy portfolios of the current Cardiff collection on the drafting table. Rubbing the mechanical pencil between thumb and forefinger, she thought of what jewelry she would die to wear with a strapless evening gown.
    Doodling in a corner of the drawing pad, she was soon engrossed in curlicues and flourishes reminiscent of a golden age.
    Several hours later, she put the drafting pencil down and took a snack from the tea tray in the corner. When she returned to the drafting table, she put the scone down.
    The name Jacqueline was written in a beautifully rounded cursive hand high up in the corner of the page. She must have written it, but