Part 8 (2/2)

Annoyance burrowed out a little further. ”You let me worry about that.”

The woman was incredible. ”You're determined to bite every hand that's held out to you in friends.h.i.+p, aren't you?”

He was smiling at her, but he was judging her, nonetheless, Denise thought, and she didn't like it Not one bit.

”Never knew an open hand yet that wasn't ready to close around something, take something from you when you weren't looking.”

He stopped walking and looked at her. ”And what do you think I'll take from you?”

”Nothing, because you won't get the chance.” Her eyes dared him to even try.

Will studied her face for a long moment. ”He hurt you that much?”

Denise tossed her head, pretending indifference. ”Who?”

The hour was late and he didn't want to play any games. ”You know who. Audra's father.”

She blocked out the memory and the pain. That was in her past and she refused to revisit it. The only thing she wanted to do was learn from it. ”He didn't hurt me at all. I hurt him.”

It was a lie she didn't believe, Will thought, but if it helped her pride to think that he did, there was no harm in it. ”I can believe it.”

It gave Denise a certain sense of triumph to realize that she could read him like a book. But she didn't care for what she saw on the page. ”You're making fun of me.”

There was no way to approach this woman without getting her hackles up, Will thought. ”Why? Because I said I believed you?”

She hated having her intelligence insulted this way. ”Because you don't believe me.”

Will looked past his own annoyance. If ever there was a soul in need of comforting, that was hurting, it was hers. He put his arms around her and refused to let her shrug him away, or break out of his hold. He looked down into her face.

”I can understand a man hurting inside when you left him. Hurting so bad that it feels like a knife being stuck into him and twisted slowly. I can understand a man falling so in love with you that he can't think of anything else except wanting you, wanting to make love with you over and over again until nothing else makes sense except having you.”

Denise could feel his words, his breath, along her skin. Penetrating her heart. She fought desperately against the feeling. ”Stop it.”

”Stop what?”

She pressed her lips together, suddenly feeling as if she was going to cry. She did best under adversity, not kindness. Kindness only undermined her and made her melt. ”Stop confusing me.”

He touched her cheek, cupping it. ”How am I confusing you, Denny? Tell me.”

One by one, the words seemed to slowly float out of her mouth. ”You make me want...”

When she stopped, he coaxed, ”What, Denny, what do I make you want?”

It was hard to talk. The words were all sticking to the roof of her mouth. ”That's just it, you make me want...and I know I can't...” She looked away. When she looked back at him, her eyes were blazing. ”d.a.m.n you, Will Cutler, you're messing with my mind.”

Will was relieved to hear that. He was beginning to entertain the suspicion that he was dealing with a complete robot.

”And a lovely mind it is, too.” He gathered her more closely into his arms until there was very little room between them. ”Almost as lovely as your eyes.” Lightly he brushed his lips over each lid as they fluttered shut before him. ”Almost as lovely as your throat” He pressed a kiss to the slender, long column, noting with pleasure that the pulse there all but danced before him. ”But not nearly as lovely as your lips,” he whispered just before he kissed her.

Flares. This time, there were definite flares, Denise realized. Flares going off when he kissed her. She was sure of it. Flares that signaled she was in desperate need of help. Help to withstand this onslaught by a man who had no business being in her life. A man who would only complicate things for her.

A man who already had complicated things for her.

Unable to help herself, she rose on her toes, her tired body coming alive as she melted against his.

She felt like a nomad in the desert, finally finding the elusive oasis just minutes before she was about to expire.

Denise drank deeply and let it sustain her, all the while knowing that, at best, it was all just a mirage.

7.

He drew back and Denise immediately felt as if she was in the middle of parachuting out of a plane when someone had s.n.a.t.c.hed the chute away from her. Suddenly she was plummeting to earth alone and unaided. Unprotected.

Shaken to the bottom of his toes, Will held her face in his hands, gazing at it and desperately trying to get his bearings.

If he wasn't careful...

That was it, he was always careful. Of all the Cutlers, he was the most careful, the most practical. The most clearheaded. And yet, this was still happening. He still felt as if he was being turned on his head. Or maybe he was standing upright and the rest of the world had been turned upside down.

Being practical didn't seem to guarantee any sort of immunity against this woman and what she was doing to him. He'd never felt so out of touch with his own sense of control before, as if he had no say in what was happening to him. He'd begun to think that he was never going to have any pa.s.sionate feelings about a woman, that there would never be one who would leave him wanting.

To discover that he'd been wrong was gratifying. It was also more than a little unsettling to suddenly find himself feeling like an adolescent at the age of thirty-three.

”You are one lethal woman, Denise Cavanaugh. You leave me shaken and stirred.”

She hadn't seen many movies in her life, but the line was common enough for even her to recognize. It attested to a preference James Bond had. ”Like a martini?”

Will smiled, nodding. Wanting to caress her. Wanting to take her right here beneath the stars. Naturally. Like breathing.

But there was nothing natural or soothing about the way he felt. The song about holding onto a tiger by the tail drifted through his mind.

”That would be you,” he agreed. ”Very heady stuff.” He toyed with her hair, slowly sifting a lock of it between his thumb and forefinger. ”I'd better take you back before I lose what little sense you've left me.”

Inadvertently he'd used almost the exact words that David had once said to her. The sweetness that was reaching out to her was swept away by the bristles of a hard-learned lesson.

Denise stiffened when Will tried to touch her face again.

”And I've got no say in what's happening? You'll just sweep me off my feet and expect me to be blown away by you like some curled up little leaf in the middle of autumn?”

He hadn't a clue where this was coming from, or why. He could only guess that he'd unwittingly triggered a bad memory. He was beginning to hate Andra's father, sight unseen.

”I'm not expecting anything,” he retorted, losing his battle with patience before he'd even realized he was engaged in the conflict. ”Least of all to have you jump on me when I'm trying to pay you a compliment.”

Trying. He was forcing himself to sweet-talk her, Denise realized. Just like David had. And the worst part of it was that it was working. She knew it was because she felt so alone right now, so worried, but that didn't help her block her attraction to Will or stop the feeling from taking possession of her.

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