Love Songs by Barbara Delinsky

knew just how to manipulate her. That challenge … She simply could not turn down a challenge. Shaking her head in grudging admiration, she turned slowly to face him.
    “What was that?” She cocked an eyebrow pertly.
    Alex rose from the sofa and circled it to stand beside her. His eyes were dark with desire; it took every ounce of restraint for her to hold still. “I called you a chicken. You seem to take the easy way out when the going gets … hot.”
    Her hands found her waist. “I’m not taking the easy way out. I’m simply taking the smartest way. As I recall, we’re here for a purpose.” Her words were spoken in self-reproach as much as to the dark form towering above her. “A love affair in the middle of a hospital lounge is a little … tawdry.” Miraculously, her voice remained steady, belying the quivering deep within.
    “I couldn’t agree with you more. Let’s go. I’ll put you to bed.”
    Before she could protest that arm was once more about her shoulders, burning through her nightclothes, fusing her to his side. Before she could withdraw they had reached her room. Before she could escape through its door—alone—he guided her in.
    Then, before she could begin to argue, he pulled her into the circle of his arms. “This may be the best sedative in the world.” And he kissed her.

 
     
    3
    Naked was a mild word for how Alanna felt. It had little to do with her scant covering and everything to do with the raw vulnerability Alex Knight had uncovered. Her senses were stripped of all defense by the powerfully tender persuasion of the lips that covered hers, the hard male body against which his arms molded her.
    “Alex, don’t…” she gasped when he abandoned her lips to rain havoc along the sensitive curve of her neck.
    “Alanna, do…” he echoed against her ear, nipping its delicate lobe before slowly working his way back to her mouth. “Show me one more time … I can’t quite remember how it was.…”
    On the verge of losing control, Alanna had no suitable retort. Instead, she gripped his shoulders for support. “I can’t,” she whispered, knowing that, once she began to give in to him, she would be helpless.
    “Sure you can.” He spoke with such gentle conviction that she had to listen. For while one part of her fought the incipient cry of desire that murmured through her body, the other part sought a rationale to permit its full and joyful expression.
    His hands framed her face, tilting it up toward his as he spoke, his lips but a breath away. The dim light from the nightstand cast his manly features into bold relief, imbuing them with even greater positive force. “Forget who you are, what you are. Forget who I am, what I am.” His tone was near-hypnotic; her eyes were glued to his commanding features. “Forget where you were today, where you are now, where you may be tomorrow. All that matters is this moment. Your woman to my man, my man to your woman. Give in, Alanna. Explore the feeling. It’s new and wonderful.”
    His soft words were headier than any wine, his nearness more potent than any drug. With the tremor that passed through her went all thought of resistance, all will to protest. In its place was the taste of passion he had given her and the yearning to know more. Yet Alex awaited her sign. He wouldn’t force her, nor would he allow her to remain passive. Intuition told her that he would demand in return everything he gave. The thought excited her. If she wanted him she would have to challenge him as well.
    The thought was made all the more exciting by his hands, which drifted from her face to her shoulders, then lightly down her arms to rest expectantly at her hips. “You can’t do it,” he goaded softly. “Why? Not woman enough?”
    The spell was momentarily broken. Alanna gasped at his taunt and its implication, stunned by the maelstrom of emotions that swirled within her. Indignance blunted anger, to be quelled in turn by desire, which erupted in a