both heard the tap on the door and turned to stone, Blake’s hands clamped on her bottom.
‘Excuse me …’ An elderly woman’s voice.
‘Uh-oh,’ Lissa whispered. ‘Now we’re in trouble.’
Another knock, louder. ‘Is everything all right in there?’
‘Everything’s fine,’ Blake answered smoothly.
Before Lissa could disengage her arms from around his neck, he was fumbling for the pins at her bodice. His hands brushed her breast as he worked. Her nipples took no account of the fact that she and Blake were locked in a bathroom and some old lady was right outside the door probably waiting to use the loo, and puckered up even more tightly against his palm.
He pressed the pins into her hand, then stepped back to give her room to fasten the frayed edges, but her fingers shook so badly she barely managed the task. ‘I’m not sure it’ll hold for long.’
‘It doesn’t need to.’ His voice was tight and gruff as he took her firmly by the arm, unlocked the door. ‘You first.’
‘Why me?’ she whispered back. Oh. She unlocked the door, pulled it open.
Gilda was waiting with a concerned elderly lady hovering behind her. ‘Oh, Lissa. Blake …?’ Her voice rose slightly on the last. ‘Margaret heard noises …’
Lissa stifled a nervous giggle that bubbled up.
Blake stepped behind her, his hands on her shoulders, and she felt an immediate surge of guilty embarrassment. She knew her face proclaimed to the world what she’d just been enjoying. Heat climbed into her cheeks. She didn’t dare look down at the hem of her dress.
But Blake, cool and in control, at least to outward appearances, said, ‘Wardrobe malfunction,’ his voice betraying none of the huskiness and dark passion she’d heard moments ago. ‘I’m taking Lissa home.’
‘Oh … that’s probably best.’ A tiny line creased Gilda’s brow. Obviously the shredded reason for their sudden departure wasn’t apparent to her, even if their exit from the bathroom together left little doubt as to what they’d been doing.
‘Thank you for coming, and thank you, Blake, for your very generous cheque.’
‘You’re welcome. I hope it’ll do some good.’ He dropped his hands and edged Lissa along with a firm palm at her back, obviously mindful of the fragility of those pins and her super-stiletto shoes. ‘Thanks for inviting us.’
‘Um,’ Lissa agreed, vaguely. Her power of speech seemed to have deserted her. ‘‘Night.’
The moment they were away from prying eyes he swung her into his arms and carried her down the paved path. Under the street light his jaw was rigid, his eyes focused dead ahead. She could hear his heart thumping against her ear as he strode to the front door, keyed the security code and shouldered the door open.
He flicked on a light and they made it as far as the second stair—not far at all—before he bent his head and touched his brow to hers and said, ‘Lissa,’ in a strangled voice that spoke of barely restrained control.
He released her in such a way that her body slid slowly down the front of his, her feet landing on the step above where he stood. His lips were pressed together tight, eyes blazing with a passion that seared all the way through to her crazily beating heart and she wondered that it didn’t stop altogether.
But then he said, ‘Go on up to bed.’
Her heart did stop then, with a terrifying jolt before resuming its crazy rhythm. He didn’t mean that. He couldn’t mean that. Not after that mind-blowing trip to the moon he’d given her. Not with those eyes, not with that steel rod she’d felt as she’d slid down his rigid torso.
You’re not ready for what I’d like to do to you.
Maybe she should go while she had the chance. Flee straight up those stairs to her room and lock the door tight.
Her legs barely held her upright but she remained where she was. This was Blake, and a night of pleasure in his arms beckoned. She stared him down. ‘I’m not tired.’
A muscle in his jaw tightened and he growled through clenched teeth. ‘Go, Lissa. Before I do something we’ll both regret in the morning.’
‘I’m not going anywhere.’ Regrets were not on her agenda. ‘You want me,’ she said, and watched his eyes turn to smoke. ‘And I want you.’
If they made love, she was going to fall hard. She was risking her heart. But hadn’t her heart been his all along? ‘I’ve always wanted you.’
She felt him go still beneath her palm. His entire body seemed to turn to stone. That’s right, Blake, think about that not-so-little confession.
The impact of her words took a moment to sink in. ‘Sweet heaven,’ he groaned softly, and closed his eyes. ‘You were only thirteen last time I saw you. For God’s sake, go. Go now.’
‘Blake, what I’m trying to say here is, it’s not a whim,’ she continued. ‘It’s n—’
‘Do you realise what would have happened back in that room if Nanna Margaret hadn’t knocked on the door and given me a moment to regain some sense? I’d have taken you where you stood without a moment’s hesitation and to hell with the rest of the world.’
Lava geysered through her veins and she thought for one moment she might faint with the thrill.
‘And with not one damn thought of protection,’ he finished, his voice scraping like rough stone over her senses.
Her mind spun back to those rumours. The rumours she refused to believe. The rumours she’d condemned only hours ago. But even so, the heat cooled and congealed in her blood because there was one indisputable fact—he had been dating Janine.
Had he lost control with her? Had he been so driven, so lost, so crazy hot for her that he’d forgotten birth control? Sharp images of his hands, his mouth on the girl’s flesh, that hard masculine unprotected part of him plunging into her where she stood tore at Lissa.
‘And now?’ Her throat was clogged, her voice tight. ‘What, you’ve suddenly developed a conscience in the last few minutes?’
‘No.’ His eyes blazed. ‘That’s the problem, Lissa. You make me crazy. When I’m with you, when I’m anywhere near you, I don’t have a conscience. And I don’t seem to be able to function rationally.’
‘And you need to be in control at all times.’
His non-answer and the blue flame in his eyes told her all she needed to know, but she could lure him over to the dark side. She could. ‘You’ve been trying not to wonder how this dress comes off all night, haven’t you?’
Blake didn’t move a muscle. His eyes … it was as if they were glued in place. He could not tear them away from those sun-spangled thighs. The twist of gold and the curves beneath.
‘It’s one long strip of fabric,’ she said. ‘Like
