hunger threatened to swallow her up whole unless she did something about it.
Isabelle pressed her body into his, holding on to Brandon so tightly she was surprised he could still breathe. She certainly was having difficulty getting air in. As she shifted, she took the opportunity to press against him even more urgently, fitting her soft curves against his hard contours.
She felt his response immediately.
Her mouth curved beneath his. The next moment, she was kissing him even more passionately, stealing away the last of his breath. Sacrificing hers as well.
Brandon drew back his head. Breaking contact came under the heading of one of the hardest things he’d had to do. But it had to be done on the very slim, outside chance that Isabelle didn’t realize she was about to push him entirely over the edge, emulsifying the last of his control.
“You keep doing that and I’m not going to be responsible for what happens next,” he informed her hoarsely.
There was no other way to describe it. The grin that curved her lips in response to his warning was nothing short of wicked.
It placed her in a completely different light in his eyes.
“Doing what?” she murmured innocently, her breath warm and teasing on his lips.
“Kissing me mindless.” The answer was tendered with effort. He struggled to hold himself in check when all he wanted to do was lose himself in her, to make love with her until he could no longer move.
She placed a hand to his chest, her fingers lightly feathering along the hard ridges.
Isabelle smiled up into his eyes. “I doubt if anything could render you into a mindless state.”
Now there she was wrong. “Keep kissing me like that and you’ll find out,” he promised.
Laughter entered her eyes. “A challenge. I love a challenge,” she whispered huskily.
The next moment, she was kissing him again. Or was that him, kissing her? Brandon wasn’t sure. All he knew was that she’d lit a fire within him. A fire that gave no indication that it could be quenched in the near future.
He wanted to take her now, here, in this place, while desire ravaged his body. But this was a public beach, and although the public appeared to be either asleep or elsewhere, he wasn’t about to take a chance that one of Newport Beach’s finest would somehow show up next to them at the worst possible, inopportune moment.
Besides, he didn’t want to take a chance on having Isabelle vulnerable like that.
Aside from the fact that it would be absolutely embarrassing for her, he was fairly certain that he would never hear the end of it from his mother. Not to mention that inevitably, the media would get hold of it and that would embarrass not just Isabelle but his daughter as well. He couldn’t risk it.
They needed to go somewhere private. Somewhere there wasn’t a chance that his mother would materialize like an apparition who had lost her way.
That meant that his house was out. Granted, he had a lot of rooms, but they were rooms his mother was given to roaming through at will. They needed somewhere more private.
For the second time in less than five minutes, he forced himself to draw back from the woman who had begun a fire in his core. His voice barely above a hoarse whisper, he said, “We’d better be getting back.”
She didn’t want to let go of the moment or of the man. But she couldn’t very well do what every fiber of her being was begging her to do—at least, not out here, out in the open, no matter how romantic the notion of making love beneath the stars might sound.
She thought of his house. It was huge, but there was always the chance of being interrupted by Anastasia or, far worse, by Victoria.
And then it came to her.
“Would you like to stop at my place…for a nightcap?” Isabelle asked, adding the coda just in case he’d suddenly thought better of what he’d just begun and turned her down. It was a way to save face in what could be a dicey situation.
One look into his eyes, and she knew that he wouldn’t be turning her down.
“A nightcap sounds good,” he told her. Making love with you sounds better.
Linking his hand with hers, he stooped down to pick up her shoes with his other hand. They started walking again and made their way back to the bookstore’s parking lot.
The bookstore was dark, and the lot was empty except for his car. Aiming his remote at the vehicle, Brandon heard a tiny squeak in response, followed by both locks springing open.
He held the door for her. When Isabelle was seated, he rounded the hood and got in on the driver’s side.
Chivalry, she thought with a small, appreciative smile, was not dead. It was alive and well within this dynamically handsome author of thrillers.
His genre was aptly named, she couldn’t help thinking, because right at this moment, a thrill ran up and down her spine, ushered in by wave after wave of anticipation.
Every single nerve ending she possessed was at attention right now.
On edge.
Aside from a couple of “almost” experiences in college, both of which ended rather poorly, she had never actually made love with a man before. She was both excited about what lay ahead—and self-consciously worried about it at the same time. What if she didn’t measure up?
What if making love with a novice, a virgin, completely turned him off? Being a virgin had never bothered her before. There’d never been anyone to whom she’d wanted to surrender herself to before. But now…
Now she wondered if she’d disappoint him.
Of course she would, she thought, mocking herself. At this point it was only a matter of by how much, not “if.” For the first time in her life, she regretted her lack of experience.
There had to be something she could do in order not to disappoint him, she thought frantically.
As they pulled up into her apartment complex, she continued to be both excited and afraid. What if she’d built this up too much? What if he was the one who failed to measure up?
Not possible. Look at him. The man is incapable of disappointing you, even if he just spends the evening kissing you.
Okay, then, what do I do if I disappoint him?
She had no answer for that one.
Brandon stopped the car but remained seated for a beat longer. Her fingertips began to grow cold. Had he changed his mind? Was he rethinking the situation and finding her to be off-puttingly eager? Or did he feel she was lacking in some way?
Did he suspect that this would be her first time?
Nerves warred within her as she forced words to her ultradry lips. “Something wrong?”
He took a breath. This wasn’t easy for him. He’d never been with anyone like Isabelle
