she thought,
No, not like dancing at all.
A hundred, thousand, million times better.
Her whole body responded. Her knees wobbled. Her eyesopened, then shut. Her lips parted and suddenly his mouth was on hers. Fierce, hungry, demanding.
I want you,
Nick had said. His voice had been hungry, ragged.
But his subsequent words had seemed like some sort of impersonal negotiation of terms. There was nothing impersonal or negotiated about this. This was instinct, pure and simple. He was a man who wanted a woman—a man who wanted her.
And Edie wanted him, too.
Yes,
she thought, kissing him back.
Oh, yes!
Yes, it was just one night. No, it wasn’t going anywhere. She had no expectations. But where had expectations ever got her?
He wasn’t Ben. But Ben was gone forever. He wasn’t Kyle. And thank God for that.
He was Nick. And tonight—just tonight—he was hers. She was determined not to regret it.
CHAPTER THREE
S HE wasn’t his usual sort of woman.
Nick didn’t care.
He wanted her. And the desire that had been building all evening was the only thing that mattered to him now. She was tart and sweet, eager and tentative, cool and yet capable of burning him down to the ground.
She looked too closely, saw too much. And she wasn’t afraid to talk about what she saw.
But they weren’t talking now, were they?
No. They were kissing. God, yes, they were kissing! And her lips were as hungry as his. Her hands were as eager as his. They slid up his arms and around the back of his neck to hold his face to hers. He didn’t complain. It was what he wanted, too.
Restless and eager, his hands roved over her back, tangled in her hair, loosening whatever pins she had anchored it with so that it fell in loose, heavy dark waves over her shoulders and down her back. He ran his fingers through it, buried his face in it, drew in the citrusy scent of shampoo and something exclusively Edie Daley.
It was heady, dizzying, and it didn’t matter if she wasn’t the sort of woman he ordinarily took to bed, a woman he could scratch a physical itch with and walk away from. He could do the same with her. He
would
do the same.
But first he would spend the night with her.
And yes, he knew exactly what he was doing.
“I missed a spot on the tour,” he murmured against her lips.
Edie pulled back slightly, stared at him, disbelieving.
“My bedroom.”
She smiled. Then she placed her hands on his arm and looked up into his eyes. “What a very good idea,” she said. And there was a breathless quality in her voice that cranked his desire up another notch.
“Right this way.” And he scooped her up into his arms and carried her down the hall to the room he’d been using as a bedroom, pausing only to kick the door open. Then he bumped it firmly shut again with one hip and then, in the darkness, lowered her onto his bed. He dropped down beside her, intending to pick up where they’d left off.
“Turn on the light,” Edie said.
He pulled back and looked at her. “What?”
“If I’m getting a tour, I want to see everything.”
Which wasn’t a bad idea at all. He very much wanted to see her as he made love to her. He grinned.
“Or maybe there aren’t lights,” she reflected. “Do you use candles for an authentic ambiance?”
“It’s possible to use candles,” Nick said. But he reached over and flipped on a bedside lamp. “When they give tours at night, I imagine they do. But tonight I think a lamp will do.”
It was a subdued light, but even so it threw the room with its utilitarian furnishings and spartan double bed into a pattern of light and shadow. Hardly the sight of a romantic seduction.
But Nick wasn’t focusing on the room. He had eyes only for Edie Daley. He’d seduce her anywhere. She was half-reclining on his bed, the mauve dress dark against her creamy skin. The low light made Edie’s peekaboo freckles entirely disappear and turned her skin to a soft gold while it made her dark hair look even thicker and
No, not like dancing at all.
A hundred, thousand, million times better.
Her whole body responded. Her knees wobbled. Her eyesopened, then shut. Her lips parted and suddenly his mouth was on hers. Fierce, hungry, demanding.
I want you,
Nick had said. His voice had been hungry, ragged.
But his subsequent words had seemed like some sort of impersonal negotiation of terms. There was nothing impersonal or negotiated about this. This was instinct, pure and simple. He was a man who wanted a woman—a man who wanted her.
And Edie wanted him, too.
Yes,
she thought, kissing him back.
Oh, yes!
Yes, it was just one night. No, it wasn’t going anywhere. She had no expectations. But where had expectations ever got her?
He wasn’t Ben. But Ben was gone forever. He wasn’t Kyle. And thank God for that.
He was Nick. And tonight—just tonight—he was hers. She was determined not to regret it.
CHAPTER THREE
S HE wasn’t his usual sort of woman.
Nick didn’t care.
He wanted her. And the desire that had been building all evening was the only thing that mattered to him now. She was tart and sweet, eager and tentative, cool and yet capable of burning him down to the ground.
She looked too closely, saw too much. And she wasn’t afraid to talk about what she saw.
But they weren’t talking now, were they?
No. They were kissing. God, yes, they were kissing! And her lips were as hungry as his. Her hands were as eager as his. They slid up his arms and around the back of his neck to hold his face to hers. He didn’t complain. It was what he wanted, too.
Restless and eager, his hands roved over her back, tangled in her hair, loosening whatever pins she had anchored it with so that it fell in loose, heavy dark waves over her shoulders and down her back. He ran his fingers through it, buried his face in it, drew in the citrusy scent of shampoo and something exclusively Edie Daley.
It was heady, dizzying, and it didn’t matter if she wasn’t the sort of woman he ordinarily took to bed, a woman he could scratch a physical itch with and walk away from. He could do the same with her. He
would
do the same.
But first he would spend the night with her.
And yes, he knew exactly what he was doing.
“I missed a spot on the tour,” he murmured against her lips.
Edie pulled back slightly, stared at him, disbelieving.
“My bedroom.”
She smiled. Then she placed her hands on his arm and looked up into his eyes. “What a very good idea,” she said. And there was a breathless quality in her voice that cranked his desire up another notch.
“Right this way.” And he scooped her up into his arms and carried her down the hall to the room he’d been using as a bedroom, pausing only to kick the door open. Then he bumped it firmly shut again with one hip and then, in the darkness, lowered her onto his bed. He dropped down beside her, intending to pick up where they’d left off.
“Turn on the light,” Edie said.
He pulled back and looked at her. “What?”
“If I’m getting a tour, I want to see everything.”
Which wasn’t a bad idea at all. He very much wanted to see her as he made love to her. He grinned.
“Or maybe there aren’t lights,” she reflected. “Do you use candles for an authentic ambiance?”
“It’s possible to use candles,” Nick said. But he reached over and flipped on a bedside lamp. “When they give tours at night, I imagine they do. But tonight I think a lamp will do.”
It was a subdued light, but even so it threw the room with its utilitarian furnishings and spartan double bed into a pattern of light and shadow. Hardly the sight of a romantic seduction.
But Nick wasn’t focusing on the room. He had eyes only for Edie Daley. He’d seduce her anywhere. She was half-reclining on his bed, the mauve dress dark against her creamy skin. The low light made Edie’s peekaboo freckles entirely disappear and turned her skin to a soft gold while it made her dark hair look even thicker and
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