“I do believe it. So, why me?”
She glanced out the window again, gazing into the darkness. “Maybe I like you. Maybe it’s because you came to my rescue—”
“Which you didn’t need.”
She continued, “You came to my rescue with no thought of the danger to your own hide.”
He took a step toward her. “Are you saying I couldn’t take that guy?”
“Hold on to your ego. I’m only saying that you’re the one I want to be with tonight. Can’t we leave it at that?”
He nodded and inclined his head toward the door. “We were about to combust out there. That’s never happened to me before.”
“So, you’re saying you don’t like losing control and decided to slow down the pace?”
“What I’m saying is, you deserve better than that.”
She smiled, and the natural sway of her body as she walked toward him fueled his juices. “There, you see? Things like that are exactly what a girl wants to hear. So, what did you have in mind?”
Her scent filled him up, and the shimmering sheet of dark, straight hair falling off her shoulders gave him pause—was he crazy to slow things down?
Her eyes were on him, warm and soft and patient.
“A drink, for starters?”
Another survey of the room had her gaze landing on the amber bottle of whiskey he’d brought from Chicago sitting on the bedside table. “Okay.”
He grabbed two tumblers and poured the whiskey. The very best stuff. He’d figured he would need some fortification before meeting his biological father, but he’d never thought he would entertain a lady with it.
Standing before her, he offered her a glass. “Here you go.”
She eyed the golden liquid. “Thanks. What should we drink to?”
“To unexpected meetings?”
She smiled. “I’m glad you didn’t say ‘to new beginnings.’”
He wouldn’t. He wasn’t in the market for a lover or a girlfriend. And apparently, Miss Ruby—he didn’t know her last name—wasn’t looking for a relationship, either. She’d dropped enough hints about that tonight. Somebody must’ve hurt her along the way, but Brooks couldn’t delve too deeply into her past. He wouldn’t want anyone prying into his, and tonight was all about the present, not the past or the future.
He touched his glass to hers, and a definitive clink sounded in the room. “To unexpected pleasant meetings.”
She gave him a brief nod and then took a sip, taking time to relish the taste before swallowing. “This is pretty amazing stuff. It surely didn’t come out of any minibar.”
He was surprised she would notice the quality. “Are you a whiskey expert?”
“Let’s just say I know good whiskey when I taste it.”
She took a seat on the bed and continued to sip. He sat beside her, enjoying her quiet company. His heart was still racing, but he was glad he’d toned things down some. She wasn’t a woman to be rushed. And he wanted to savor her tonight, in the same way she was savoring her whiskey.
“Tell me,” she said, “aren’t you afraid that I’ll come to my senses and walk out on you?”
“I don’t think you’re a flight risk, Ruby. So, no. But if you think better of this, I would respect your decision. When I make love to you, I want you to be sure and all in.”
She smiled, and her eyes drifted down to the amber liquid in her glass. “You don’t mince words.”
“You don’t, either.”
She nodded, and her soft gaze met his stare. He reached out to touch her face with a sole finger to her cheek. She gasped, and a warm light flickered in her eyes.
“What do you want, Ruby?”
“Just a night,” she whispered, breathy and guileless. “With you.”
He sensed she needed it as much as he did. To have one night with her before his life would change forever.
Taking the glass from her and setting both of their drinks down on the nightstand, he cupped her face with his hands and gazed into her eyes. “One night, then.”
“Yes,” she said. “One night.”
And then he pulled her up to a standing position so they were toe-to-toe, her face lifting to his. He peered into warm, dark eyes giving him approval and then slowly lowered his head, his mouth laying claim to hers.
Their night together was just beginning.
Brooks’s touch was like a jolt of electricity running the course of her body. One touch, one simple finger to her cheek, one slight meshing of his whiskey-flavored lips with hers, was giving her amnesia about the other men in her life. Men who’d trampled on her heart. Men like Trace, who’d taken from her and hadn’t given back. Trace, the man she’d waited for all these months. She squeezed that notion from her mind.
Her time to wait was over.
Brooks’s giving and patient mouth didn’t demand. Instead, he encouraged her to partake and enjoy. She liked that about this man. He wasn’t a player of women. No, her gladiator and presumptive keeper of her virtue was a man of honor. He didn’t take. He gave. And that’s exactly why she’d decided to come to his room tonight.
She placed her trust in him.
He wasn’t asking her to bare her soul. But she would bare her body. For him.
Her fingers nimbly played with the tiny white buttons on her blouse until the material slipped from her shoulders, trapping her arms. Cool night air grazed her exposed skin.
Brooks’s sharp intake of breath reached her ears. “You’re unbelievably beautiful.”
He worked the sleeves of her blouse down her arms until they gathered at her wrists. He held her there, mercilessly tugging her closer until her bra brushed his torso. “Yeah, I like you in red.” He stroked her hair and then snapped the silky strap of her bra.
“It’s my color,” she whispered, and he smiled.
“I won’t disagree.”
He nipped at her lips then, several times, until his mouth claimed hers again. The kiss swept her into another world, where the only thing that mattered, all that she felt, was the pleasure he was giving. His tongue plunged in and met hers in a sparring match that ignited a fiery inferno within her. Whimpering, she ached for his touch. Finally his fingers dipped inside her bra to caress her nipples. Everything
