Part 7 (2/2)

His eyes moved back to hers and searched them slowly while his breath rasped deep in his chest and threatened to stop altogether.

”You...shouldn't be doing this,” she whispered brokenly. ”And I shouldn't be letting you.”

”Then stop me,” he challenged softly. He glanced over her shoulder. The tour guide was still holding forth, but the group was moving away from them, although they were on the same level, near one of the tiny guard stations fas.h.i.+oned of stone blocks.

She could hear her own heart beating. She trembled a little with reaction and moved forward to rest her head on his broad chest.

”Ryder,” she whispered longingly.

He registered her capitulation with a sense of wonder. She was vulnerable and he shouldn't take advantage of it. G.o.d knew, he'd tried hard enough to keep his distance, especially while she was still grieving for Ben. But this was asking the impossible. The feel of her was like a narcotic. He couldn't stop.

”Stand still,” he whispered. ”If you cry out, we're going to have an audience.”

She wondered at the wording until she felt his hands turn and slowly unfasten her blouse. She should protest, she knew she should, but it was too sweet. She felt the backs of his lean fingers against her bare skin and she stifled a gasp.

He lifted his head and looked down at her, darting a careful glance at the slowly departing senior citizens. He should never have started this. His blood was raging already, and this wasn't going to help things. But she was sweet and submissive, and he'd gone hungry for her too long already. His eyes feasted on the soft pink skin. He drew the fabric farther aside to reveal the high, taut rise of her mauve nipples and his face hardened.

”Ryder,” she whispered shakily.

”Perfect,” he breathed roughly. ”I lie awake at night and dream of you like this, your b.r.e.a.s.t.s hard-tipped and swollen under my mouth...”

She bit back a cry at the word pictures he aroused, and she s.h.i.+vered.

”Yes, you'd like that, wouldn't you?” he whispered huskily. ”So would I. But if I bend down and put my mouth on you like that, I'll lose my head completely. I think you might, too. And we're not here to become the tourist attraction.”

Her lips parted as her breath rushed out jerkily. His pale eyes lingered on her exposed b.r.e.a.s.t.s and began to glitter. ”I can almost taste you, Ivy,” he groaned.

She moved feverishly against him, s.h.i.+vering again as his arms went around her and crushed her to his broad chest.

”Oh, Lord, what a time to want each other,” he bit off at her ear. His hands flattened on her shoulder blades. The tourists were going slowly down the steps and he thanked G.o.d, because his body was giving him h.e.l.l.

He moved her just enough to get his hands in between them. They eased under her blouse and began to caress her swollen b.r.e.a.s.t.s. His lips nuzzled her temple and her forehead, breathlessly gentle, while she stood yielding in his arms and enjoyed the tenderness of his seeking hands.

He could feel her trembling, but she was clinging, not resisting. It went to his head like the brandy he'd had the night before. ”Look at me,” he said softly. ”I want to see your eyes while I'm touching you.”

Her face lifted, and her misty eyes met his. She gasped a little as his hands grew bolder, his thumbs abrasive against the hard tips.

”Someone will see,” she managed in a shaky whisper.

”No,” he replied. ”They're leaving now.”

And they were. The senior citizens followed the tour guide down the steps, leaving Ryder and Ivy alone on the battlements overlooking the bay.

”Alone at last,” he whispered, and bent his head.

She felt his lips brush lightly over her mouth. This time there was no violence at all. His mouth teased hers in the windy silence, coaxing it to follow him, to plead for a harder, deeper contact. He was her heart, and she wanted nothing more than to be close to him for as long as she could.

Her arms slid under his and around him and she pressed close. His hands moved abruptly to her hips and drew them to his in a slow, sensual rhythm that dragged a moan from the lips his were nibbling. He was fiercely aroused, and she could feel the evidence of it like a hot brand against her belly. But even that was welcome.

He wondered at the lack of resistance from her. His hands contracted and he lifted his head to look down into her eyes as he s.h.i.+fted her hips deliberately from one side to the other against him.

”Feel it?” he bit off.

”Yes.” She searched his eyes, blus.h.i.+ng a little at the sensual, faintly mocking smile she found on his hard face.

”Thank your lucky stars that we aren't in that suite alone. This is what you've been inviting for the past week, every time you turned those bedroom eyes on me.”

That wasn't what she wanted to hear. Her face paled at the insinuation that she'd been teasing him. Could he really think her that callous?

”You started it,” she accused helplessly.

”You started it,” he corrected. He moved back, his eyes blatantly on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. ”No bra, either. Was that for my benefit, to make it easier for me to get to your skin?”

She flushed and dragged her blouse together, fastening it with hands that shook. He always seemed to find a way to blame her when things got out of control. Didn't he have any idea why it kept happening?

He moved away from her, staring out toward the bay. His body was still in anguish. Why did she keep letting him do that, he wondered. And then, all at once, a horrible suspicion grew in his mind.

”Are you missing s.e.x?” he asked abruptly, turning fiercely accusing eyes on her.

Chapter 6.

Ivy spared a moment to wonder at the density of the male mind before she reacted to the question. Had she missed s.e.x, indeed, when it had been nothing more than a hated, frightening ordeal fraught with embarra.s.sment and humiliation.

Her dark eyes searched his and trembling hands drew the nylon jacket closer around her shoulders. Why should he ask such a question, after the sweet intimacy they'd just shared? He lost his temper every time he touched her.

”I seem to be missing the boat, if you want to know,” she said after a minute. She moved to the edge of the wall and leaned against it, staring out over the snaky outlines of the earthen breastworks with their smooth green cover of gra.s.s, beyond the moat.

He joined her, but he didn't quite look at her. His head was bare, and the dampness made his hair look even blacker than usual.

”You...disturb me,” he said roughly.

”I've noticed.” She smoothed her fingers over the rough, weathered stone, aware of the musty, dusty smell of it in the dampness around her. ”Why do you lose your temper every time you touch me?”

He blew out a heavy breath, his eyes narrowing on the distant horizon. ”I want you.”

Her fingers bit into the stone. ”Yes, I know,” she said softly. ”But that doesn't really explain it.”

He glanced down at her. ”It was a long time ago, but you surely remember that I d.a.m.ned near lost control with you that night when you were eighteen?”

”I remember.” She closed her eyes. ”All you do is push me away.”

He turned to face her, his jaw tensing before he spoke, his eyes slow and bold on her body.

”I have to,” he said, his voice curt. ”My G.o.d, all it's going to take is one kiss that lasts five seconds too long, and we'll be lovers. Or are you going to pretend you don't know that?”

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