Pace back off from now on, but her curiosity in that department would also be satisfied. She’d wanted to sample more intimate contact with Pace without the risk of embarrassing herself. This was her chance. It didn’t mean she had to go any further if she didn’t want to.
Or he didn’t.
After a deliberating moment she nodded, and let him place her palm on his chest.
Immediately a delicious buzz sped through her body. Her insides contracted and her eyes drifted shut.
Heat.
Rock.
Very…very…nice…
She heard her own sigh and, caught out, let her eyes fly open. He was looking down at her, completely in control. Annoyingly superior. What must it feel like to know you were just that good?
Snatching her hand away, she hoisted up her chin and croaked, “Satisfied?”
“We’re not finished.”
His roughened hands caught both of hers and held them firmly against his hard chest again. His piercing gaze seemed to search her soul. “Now put your cheek on mine.”
A world of alarm bells went off.
“I can’t,” she cried while his hot hands kneaded hers.
Could she? Should she?
“Give me one reason why not,” he said, a hypnotic smile shining in his eyes.
“You’re…” She licked her lips again while her heartbeat boomed. Finally she murmured, “You’re too tall.”
He grinned. Bent lower. “Your cheek, Phoebe. Here on mine.”
His deep voice vibrated beyond her fingers, booming a breathless path through the channels of her mind and her body. She’d come this far. If she didn’t go further, even a little, she would always wonder.
Carefully she craned her neck. Her face touched his, that wonderful scent spilled through her system, the tips of her fingers tingled and the room began a slow spin.
Eyelids growing heavy, she instinctively rubbed her cheek up. He, in response, grazed his down. She dissolved as a smouldering pulse leapt to life between her legs and dragged another sigh from her throat.
Sandpaper scuffed near her ear when his chin dipped around. Noses brushed—once, twice—before his slightly parted lips dusted hers. Overtaken by sensation, she trembled to her socks when his deep, rich voice hummed against her left temple.
“I’m right about this, Phoebe. Right about us.”
The moist, heaven-sent kiss that lingered on her brow dropped an airy veil of longing upon her shoulders. He moved back and she trembled, waiting for those lips. Waiting for that kiss. Waiting…
Waiting?
Her eyes shot open, and the wonderful fuzzy feeling evaporated like six p.m. cocktails.
The door was wide open, but Pace, and his leather jacket, were gone.
Chapter Three
BY A quarter to twelve the following day, SLAMM had finished its Saturday morning recording.
The floor manager was ushering out the chattering audience. Overhead, banks of lights were fading down. Soon the crew would disassemble and move the set to scenery. And in the back row of the bleachers a patient Pace Davis sat and watched and waited.
Out of sight, anxious and hidden in the wings, Phoebe curled her fingers around the studio floor curtain and rolled her teeth over her bottom lip. She hadn’t noticed until halfway through the morning that Pace had followed up on his suggestion of the day before. He’d come in to see for himself how a television show was recorded, and had left her seriously off balance in the process.
When she hadn’t been in front of the camera she’d watched him from the wings, as she did now. Was it her imagination? Or had he indeed been distracted a great deal of the time, absorbed in his thoughts, and not pleasant ones. But whenever their gazes had meshed over the heads of the energised audience crowd, his vibrancy had faded back up and her limbs had turned to jelly. Amazing. Even in this very public environment, surrounded by hundreds of people, her reaction to his presence was something perilously close to overwhelming. Given the steady gleam in his eye, she wondered if he planned to play another of his games, and this time claim the kiss he’d left behind last night.
Swallowing against the nerves jumping in her throat, Phoebe watched as Pace pushed to his feet and looked expectantly around. She’d been upset last night when he’d left her standing, waiting, in her doorway. No, upset wasn’t the word. She’d been livid.
Every time they met he openly pursued her—let her know that he’d like nothing better than to take her to his bed. Yesterday he’d had the perfect opportunity to push that point a long way towards home. She’d been ready and shamelessly willing to kiss him. The question was…if that kiss had been a wild success, would she have risked going further? Had she been at that point where mindless passion would have superseded inhibition and taken over?
He affected her so deeply. She’d barely slept last night for reliving every thrilling moment of that bike ride home and then his showing up unexpectedly at her door. She’d tossed and turned and wondered a thousand times what would have happened if instead of leaving he’d leaned in and pressed his lips hungrily to hers. And every time she wondered, her belly would heat and throb with longing.
Just like now.
But she couldn’t stand here flustering all day.
Sucking it up, Phoebe stepped out from behind the curtain and willed Pace’s sweeping gaze to meet hers. When he spotted her his eyes flashed, and the sexy grin that never failed to fling her pulse-rate up into overdrive curved one corner of his mouth.
Instantly entranced, Phoebe smiled back as a warm and wonderful fever swept over her skin. Beneath the bodice of her pink silk blouse her breasts grew heavy and tingled at the tips. Her awakened body told her what her mind already knew…what she’d always known. No couple could predict with absolute certainty whether they would ultimately set off each other’s fireworks behind closed doors, but, coming out of the gate, there was every indication that she and Pace would reach the finish line at a gallop.
Then again, she’d once thought the same about Steve, and look how that had turned out.
As Pace descended the audience steps, his gait fluid and purposeful, Phoebe held her freefalling stomach and inhaled a deep calming breath. She’d been determined never again to contaminate her work environment with matters of the heart. She’d set her mind never to make her mother’s mistake and lay herself open to the manipulations of a bad boy, a man so confident and attractive and damnably sexy that once a woman allowed him into her life there was every chance she’d still be hooked long after the party was over. And yet, despite all the negatives, as he made his way over she could think of only one thing…
Picking up where she and the best of the bad boys had left off. Come what may, she wanted to know the soul-lifting sensation of his mouth covering hers while his hands on her shoulders
