to his words and she wondered. Surely it wasn’t mistrust of her clouding his eyes.
They weren’t a couple, and even if they were, she would never cheat as Bindy had done. If things weren’t working out between two people who weren’t married it was better to sever the relationship than continue to hurt each other. She’d followed her own advice when she’d called off her relationship with Sean. Apparently he’d never thought her good enough in any case…
Ella pushed away the ghosts from her past. That was all so long ago. Like Tristan, she didn’t enjoy revisiting the less memorable pages of her personal history. And, remarkably, Tristan’s skeletons competed with hers. They’d both been accused of killing a person they cared about.
Tristan moved closer. “Ella…there’s something else I feel we need to discuss.” His gaze probed hers. “It’s about us.”
Her insides tensed as a thread of panic wound through her. Tristan was going to bring up that kiss. But after the emotion of that conversation—his being with another woman and her untimely death—she wasn’t ready to go there, even to discuss it.
Curling some hair behind her ear, she slid her foot back toward her bedroom door. “Do you mind if we talk in the morning?” She gave him a weak smile. “I’m more tired than I realized.”
His earnest expression deepened before he nodded and said, “Of course.”
She slid back her other foot and smiled. “Great. Well…good night. Thank you for tonight.”
He seemed about to say something more, then only nodded again. “My pleasure. Sleep well.”
But Ella didn’t sleep well. Anything but.
After tossing and turning for what seemed like hours, she wandered out to the dark kitchen for a glass of water. With her hand on the refrigerator door, she heard a shuffling noise, then a rustle. Her stomach pitched and she went cold all over. A light was shining down from further in the house, possibly the library. Then she heard stealthy footsteps on the tiles.
When Tristan appeared, she released a tension-filled breath at the same time their eyes connected in the shadows. He stopped dead before a warm smile spread across his face and he moved toward her.
One part of her wanted to retreat to her bedroom—she was dressed in a negligee, without a wrap. But the room was filled with forgiving shadows, and the air surrounding them was suddenly heavy with curiosity.
When he stopped before her, silver moonlight shining in through the window highlighted his broad, bare chest. The masculine scent of his body filled her lungs. How she loved that smell.
“You can’t sleep?” His voice was a deep rumble that resonated through to her bones.
“Not a wink,” she admitted.
“Me, neither.” He slanted his head on a teasing smile. “Maybe we shouldn’t sleep together.”
She looked into his eyes and knew what he was suggesting—the exact opposite. She couldn’t deny that the idea of sleeping together was frighteningly appealing.
As the seconds ticked by, the space separating them seemed to compress and at the same time stretch an agonizingly forbidden mile. Did she want to breach that space? The stillness of his towering frame told her that Tristan only needed her nod.
She quivered inside.
Should she?
Shouldn’t she?
She wet her dry lips. “Tristan?”
“Yes, Ella?”
Her throat convulsed and she swallowed. “You want to kiss me again, don’t you?”
His smile changed. “Yes, I do.” He moved closer until his body heat seemed to meld with hers. “And I think you want me to.”
Quivering again, she stepped away from her safety net and nodded. “Very much.”
Chapter Six
When Tristan drew her close and his mouth covered hers, Ella gave herself over to a tingling tidal wave of pure pleasure. After the anticipation of wondering these past twenty-four hours, Tristan’s kiss tonight was even more than she remembered—better than heaven, as if that should be a surprise.
As the strong band of his arms urged her closer still and he expertly deepened the kiss, she could have passed out from the blistering sensual overload. So many times she’d contemplated enjoying the intimate attentions of this powerfully attractive man. People were naturally drawn to and admired his superior bearing. Why should she be any different? She was only human, even if tonight he felt like a god.
Tristan’s palm spread and pressed low on her back as his other hand cradled and almost imperceptibly turned and kneaded the back of her head. Trembling inside, Ella clung to his chest, reveling in the musky scent of pure male and feel of flesh-and-blood granite. Such a moment should last an eternity, but now that they’d started, Ella wanted more.
More of what she’d glimpsed that day in his bedroom.
When Tristan reluctantly broke the kiss, he scooped her up in his arms and Ella’s breath left her lungs in a soft exclamation of surprise. His heavy-lidded eyes lingered on her lips as he began to move out of the kitchen, toward the stairs…
The stairs that led up to his bedroom.
At a jab of alarm, her eyes must have rounded be-cause he stopped abruptly and blinked twice. “I’m moving too fast,” he said.
There was little doubt what he would expect when they arrived upstairs. And she was certain that’s where he was taking her. In truth, wasn’t a night in each other’s arms what she’d dreamed of experiencing, too? It’d been so long since a man had held her, and this wasn’t just any man. If that was Tristan’s intention—to make love to her without reservation—shouldn’t she grab the opportunity, as well as the memories that would last a lifetime? This wasn’t a case of Tristan merely needing to expend some energy. Regardless of what happened after tonight, right now he truly wanted her as a woman.
And she wanted him, too.
Her tummy fluttered as she looped her arms around his broad neck.
“I’m game,” she murmured, “if you are.”
His eyes widened as if he were almost taken aback by her reply, but then his expression softened. “I’m more than game.” He began to walk again.
“If we’re awake at midnight you can wish me happy birthday.”
“It’s your birthday tomorrow?”
“I’ll be twenty-six.”
He smiled that sexy smile. “Then I guess we have some celebrating to do.”
She crossed her ankles and sucked in a decisive breath. “I could whip up a cake.” She liked chocolate torte, but Black Forest with lots of cherries was his favorite.
Holding her tighter, he mounted the stairs
