he suggested.
‘Why not?’ With this new understanding between them, why should there be any no-go areas?
They were easy together. They were going to have a good working relationship, Bronte thought as she followed Heath up the stairs. They’d had their explosion, their resolution, and now they were starting afresh.
Heath was so athletic she had to run to keep up with him, though he barely seemed to exert himself as he sprinted up the beautifully restored central staircase. ‘The bathroom,’ he said, opening one of the doors with a flourish.
She was still admiring the light-drenched landing. ‘You are kidding me?’ She stood on the threshold of the bathroom, staring in. ‘This is fantastic, Heath.’ The bathroom was clad in black marble and brightened with mirrors. There was a huge, walk-in drench shower, with a spa bath big enough to swim in. ‘And I bet the floor is heated.’ She kicked off her shoes. ‘It is.’
‘You don’t exactly go down to the lake to freshen up.’
‘Maybe not—but I know where to look when I need a refit.’
‘It will cost you.’
She tore her gaze away when it held and locked with Heath’s. Heath was at his most feral and the dreamweaver was back, and wouldn’t take no for an answer, so when she should have left the room and allowed Heath to continue on with his tour she leaned back against the door, trapping them both on the bathroom side.
‘Stop it,’ Heath warned in an undertone, but then his lips tugged in a teasing smile. ‘Don’t you have a train to catch?’
‘Yes,’ she admitted. What was she thinking? She pulled away from the door, and Heath, ever the gentleman, leaned across to open it for her. Their bodies brushed. Electricity fired. This wasn’t meant to happen—
‘No,’ he said, as if responding to her. ‘No, Bronte,’ he said more firmly.
Her eyes searched his.
‘I’m no good for you,’ he said.
She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply. ‘And I’m stuck in the past? Stop it—stop it now, Heath.’ Some primal instinct made her lift her arm and put her hand across his mouth. ‘I don’t want to hear that ever again,’ she said.
Heath’s eyes were laughing as his tongue went on the attack—tickling, and licking—
‘Stop it,’ she warned him, whipping her hand away.
‘You stop it,’ Heath said, laughing.
She exclaimed as he dragged her into his arms. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she demanded as he swept her off her feet and headed for the drench shower. ‘No!’ she screamed when Heath’s intention became clear.
‘I need to cool you down,’ he said. ‘And if words won’t do it—’
She watched him turn the shower to the coldest setting and screamed again, but it was pointless fighting Heath. And now he was under the water with her, holding her in place with embarrassing ease. ‘Have you had enough yet?’ he said, holding her in front of him.
They were both soaked through. ‘What do you think?’ She couldn’t even pretend to be angry. Flicking her hair out of her eyes, she started laughing, and once she’d started she couldn’t stop. Then Heath was holding her, and they were both laughing.
‘Do you know what I think?’ he said as she gasped for breath. Without waiting for her answer, he turned the shower off and, yanking her close, he kissed her—and this time there was no brushing, or teasing, or delay. They were hungry for each other and Heath kissed her in a way she had never been kissed before—in a way no one would ever kiss her again. He made her feel powerful and sexy and safe and more at risk than she had ever been in her life.
Life was a risk.
Love was a risk.
Was she going to spend all her life dreaming?
When Heath pulled back she waited. She was expecting the worst—planning for it—trying to work out how she could stalk out of his house with her head held high in soaking wet clothes. ‘Not against the wall,’ he murmured, his face creasing in a smile as he stared down at her.
‘Been there—done that?’ Bronte’s brows rose.
She laughed softly against his face as Heath swung her into his arms, and then protested, ‘We can’t,’ when Heath carried her straight out of the bathroom and into his bedroom.
‘I can do what I like in my own house.’
‘We’ll make the bed wet.’
‘You can count on it,’ Heath promised as he stripped off his clothes.
‘No,’ he said when she started to do the same, ‘that’s my job.’
He undressed her slowly, kissing her naked flesh as he removed each garment with the utmost care. It was like the first time for her, Bronte thought as Heath stared down.
Bronte’s naked body was a revelation to him—everything in miniature. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen—a work of art. She brought out the best in him. She made him draw on tenderness he hadn’t known he possessed. He had always expressed physical emotions in a very different way. He embraced her gently, wanting nothing more than to protect her, and to forget all the reasons why he shouldn’t be making love to her.
This was a moment out of time for both of them, a moment to give and receive pleasure, though she was so small against him—he couldn’t believe what had happened in the kitchen at Hebers Ghyll. That had been a mindless frenzy, the result of years of pent-up need for both of them, but this was different … better. He could take his time and draw it out for both of them. And however fierce she was—and Bronte could be fierce—he would only use a fraction of his strength in response—and even the thought of that self-imposed curb aroused him.
‘You’re holding back,’ she accused him, emerald fire blazing out of rapidly darkening eyes, ‘and I want all your attention—’
‘And you shall have it,’ he promised, moving down the bed.
‘I’m not complaining,’ she hurried to assure him when he eased her legs over his shoulders. ‘I’ll never complain again.’
And as she groaned with pleasure he parted her lips and gave her his undivided attention for a considerable amount of time.
Her world exploded in a starburst of crystalline sensation, like firework night with constant repeats, Bronte thought as she heard herself exclaiming with guttural appreciation again and again. When she came to enough to take account of her surroundings and what she was doing, it was to find Heath cradling her in his arms. ‘Oh…’
‘Oh?’ His lips tugged up as he dropped a kiss on her mouth. ‘More?’
‘What do you think?’ she said, gasping as his hand found her.
‘I think you’ve been missing this,’ Heath said, easing her over the edge
