more than usual. ‘No. Really, I was …’ She swiped at a wayward tear on her cheek. ‘I was just getting up for a glass of—’ His dark eyes narrowed and she forgot what she had been going to say as he came closer, his eyes missing nothing as he took in the robe and the tightly cinched belt.
‘But you have been crying.’
‘The music,’ she said. ‘It was so beautiful. I’m sorry. I’ll …’
But he was already wiping away the moisture with the pad of his thumb—so tenderly, so at odds with the dark, tortured eyes that raked her face, that more tears squeezed free. There was a tightness to his features. His face was set almost like a mask. It was a tightness that spoke of anger and resentment and some barely controlled agony.
A tightness that frightened her and yet excited her on some primeval level, just as his touch set her skin alight. ‘It is late,’ he said tightly, his fingers resting lightly on her cheek. ‘You should be in bed if you are leaving tomorrow.’
‘I’ll go now,’ she whispered, wondering if he might stop her. Half wanting him to.
‘I’ll see you to your room.’
‘I’ll be fine.’ She had to get away. She couldn’t stand the tension of having him walk alongside her, wondering all the way, back to her room. She couldn’t stand the disappointment if he merely left her at the door and walked away. ‘I know the way.’
She turned back, her feet programmed now to flee, only for the storm to unleash one more act of savagery. The boom crashed overhead and reverberated through the floor and walls. For a split second the room was still lit with the light from the chandelier, only to plunge the next instant into blackness so thick it was like a wall.
Panicked, she plunged into it, only to trip against the first step—would have fallen if he hadn’t been there first to gather her into his arms.
Air was knocked from her lungs, and when she breathed again the air came full of the heady scent of him. His arms were like iron bars around her, powerful and strong, as slowly he righted her until her feet touched the ground. Her knees buckled and his arms tightened, pulling her against the hard wall of his chest.
She heard his ragged breathing, she could feel the pounding of his heart in his chest, and she didn’t need light to tell her he was looking at her. She knew by the intoxicating fan of his breath against her face and by the sheer intensity of his stillness. She knew by the sudden fullness of her breasts and the aching tightness of her nipples.
‘You are leaving tomorrow,’ he said, sounding almost as if he was reminding himself, trying to convince himself.
‘Yes.’ Her word was no more than a whispered breath, and she sensed rather than saw the shake of his head.
‘You should not have come downstairs.’ His voice was choked and thick, and a shudder rippled deep and evocative through her. ‘You should not have come.’
His words were warm and rich and scented with the unmistakable essence of him and she drank him in, tasting him. ‘I had no choice,’ she admitted, her lips hungry and searching the darkness. ‘You gave me no choice.’
He made a sound, strangled and thick, as her drew her closer, her head cradled in his hands. ‘I am giving you a choice now. Tell me, before I give way to the monster inside me and decide for you, what do you want?’
Her heart lurched. Her senses lurched. His hands were hot on her face and in her hair as he waited for her answer. Her skin was alive with the touch of him, her body alight with need, and right now there was only one answer. Lust, she told herself, feeling herself falling further from reality and the safe world she had always known, the safe person she had always been. But she was leaving in the morning. Was one stolen night too much to ask?
And she put her hands over his, lacing their fingers together. ‘I want you.’
Lightning flashed. Thunder boomed. And the room was suddenly so bright she was surprised she couldn’t see her need splashed right across the ceiling.
But she could see him. Saw the flames flare in his eyes as his mouth crashed down on hers. And she knew she was lost. His kiss was wrenching at her very soul just like the music had done, reaching inside her to unleash emotions she’d never known existed. His mouth was setting her alight, his touch sending her skin aflame.
And then, still kissing her, she was in his arms as he mounted the stairs two at a time, with a speed that she would normally consider reckless but which now felt strangely necessary. Because she wanted him. Burned for him.
She didn’t know where he was taking her in the dark. She didn’t care whose bed it was he laid her down upon.
She only cared that soon he would soon quench this aching need. This burning desire.
Her fingers scrabbled with his jacket, protesting at the barrier, and without leaving her mouth he ripped it off and let it fall to the floor. He tugged loose her robe while her hands clawed at his shoulders, wanting him back, wanting to feel him against her. She forgave him when she felt his palms sliding from her thighs to her breasts, drawing her nightgown upwards with it. She lifted her head to let it go while his fingers trailed back down her body.
‘Beautiful,’ he growled, leaning over her, rolling one tight nipple under his thumb and making her back arch into the bed. ‘Do you know how much I want you?’
‘Please,’ she implored, desperate now. Nobody had ever called her beautiful. Nobody had ever told her they wanted her. And now his words fuelled a body already screaming for release. Her hands were at his waist and then below, until she gasped into his mouth as she discovered exactly how much he wanted her, her fingers marvelling, tracing his rigid length.
He groaned like an animal in distress and grabbed the offending wrist, pinning it to the bed while he freed himself with the other and ripped open protection with his teeth. Surely now!
But still she had to wait. ‘Please!’ she cried when his hand peeled away her panties, his fingers slipping between her folds and brushing that tiny nub that seemed the repository of every nerve-ending she’d ever possessed while his mouth suckled one peaked breast.
She bucked into the bed and cried out with the sheer ecstasy of it, cried out with the unfairness of it all when his fingers teased her cleft. It was something else she wanted, something else she needed.
She curled her fingers in his hair, dragged his head from her breast. ‘Please!’
And then she felt him there, at her entrance, felt his heated pressure and his power and wondered for just one second if she was dreaming and at any moment she was going to wake up alone in twisted sheets, feeling cheated and unsatisfied.
A bolt of lightning rent the skies above, turning night into day, and her body yearned with pleasure unbound. And he was there, poised above her. ‘You’re so beautiful,’ he murmured in the storm-light, his voice so tight with longing that it hurt to hear the words—until he stilled and entered her on one long, deep thrust that stretched her, filling her so completely, so perfectly—so magically—that she cried out with the wonderment of it all.
He was inside her, part of her. Every cell in her body was aware of his presence, shimmering with sensation. And then he started to withdraw, and lights exploded behind her eyes.
He
