commitment I’m not so good with.”
Her pulse pounded harder. He flexed his fingers and the slight motion against her back made a shock of sensation skitter through her veins, lighting up every last part of her body, from her head to her toes and every inch in between.
“Are you sure? Because you asked me to marry you only twenty-four hours after meeting me.”
“Commitment with a catch I can deal with. Commitment with a defined end date, I actually think that’s quite perfect. But then, that’s why I don’t make commitments. Because I know I wouldn’t want to keep them.”
“Well, then your proficiency must be in something other than relationships.”
He smirked. “I have a major in business with a pretty accomplished minor in bedroom skills. And I only claim a minor because you insist a person can’t have a double major in life.”
She felt her face get hot, her blood pounding in her temples. She didn’t know how he could say things like that so casually, like it didn’t mean anything. As if it didn’t throw his mind straight into the bedroom with all kinds of sweaty, half-formed visions.
She’d watched her share of late-night cable when she’d been alone in her hotel room, so she knew what kinds of things he was talking about. And it was making her feel weak and shaky all over.
“What about you? What’s your view on commitment?”
“I majored in piano,” she said, forcing a smile. “Figuratively speaking, of course.”
“Yeah, I got that. I see what you were doing there.”
“You’re making fun of me,” she said. But he wasn’t doing it in a cruel way. He was teasing her. She wasn’t sure if anyone had ever really teased her like that. If anyone had engaged her in conversation quite like this. Intimate. Sharing. Strange.
“A little bit.”
He turned away from her and she couldn’t help noticing how striking his face was in profile. Strong nose and square jaw. He was almost too perfect to be real. He was like a man chiseled from rock, only infused with breath and warmth. And a glint in his eye that spoke of sin and pleasure.
“Over there,” he said, inclining his head slightly. “That’s Anita Blaire, she’s the lead writer for the society pages.”
Noelle turned her head slightly and saw a woman craning her neck to get a look at them.
Ethan released his hold on her hand and placed his palm on her hip, sliding it around slowly until both of his hands were rested on the indent in her spine, just above her bottom. He moved his thumb slightly, slowly, his touch edging near intimate territory.
She stiffened, her heart pounding so hard she was afraid she was going to pass out. She swallowed, barely able to finish the job thanks to her suddenly dry throat.
“Relax,” he whispered. “Lean into me.”
She did her best to relax but her muscles were locked up, tense. Not with fear, but with anticipation. She didn’t know what he might do next. Where he would touch her. It made her hot and shivery all over. Like having a fever, one that burned from deep inside her core.
“How’s this?” she asked, her voice a little bit thin, shaky.
“Better,” he whispered, his lips brushing her temple, the slightly intimate caress making her stomach tighten with raw, sexual need. It was different like this. In the arms of a real man, instead of just the hazy fantasy of a dream lover’s caress. Her ideas of desire were all viewed through a Vaseline-smeared lens in her mind’s eye. But this wasn’t obscured or blurred, it was sharp and clear. Almost painful in its intensity.
And he hadn’t even kissed her.
Would he? Eventually. He would have to eventually because he would have to do the kiss-the-bride thing at the wedding. And now her palms were sweaty. She tightened her grip on his shoulders.
He angled his head and his lips skimmed the line of her jaw. She blew out a shocked breath and dug her fingernails into his shoulders, just to get that extra hold, because she felt as if she might melt into a puddle of Noelle at his feet. Wouldn’t that be a good picture for the society pages?
He pressed his lips more firmly to her skin, just beneath her ear. She shuddered when he brushed the tip of his tongue over the tender skin. She’d never even known to fantasize about such a simple, sensual thing. Even if she had, she wouldn’t have known the effect it would have on her.
“You taste like vanilla,” he said, his voice soft and husky, his breath touching her neck, making goosebumps spread over her.
She pulled her head back so she could look at him, at his dark eyes, so intent on hers. Was he going to kiss her now? Like, really kiss her?
He looked away from her, back in the direction of Anita. “I think we’ve caught her attention,” he said.
The shroud of arousal that had cocooned them just a moment before broke and Noelle became conscious again of the noise in the room. The buzz of conversation, the music, the fact that there were other people there, in the ballroom, in the world.
“Oh,” she cleared her throat, “yes.”
“Ready to go and be social?”
No. She was ready to go and crawl under a rock and hide for ten years, thank you very much, because she’d made an idiot of herself over the brief brush of his lips on her skin. The worst thing was, she was still wishing he’d done more.
“Of course,” she said, her voice brittle.
“Come on then, sweetheart, let’s spread the good news of our new-found love.”
TOTAL bliss. She was warm. And comfy. Happy even. Cocooned in the thousand-thread-count sheets in a luxury hotel. And room service was on its way up with coffee.
Noelle snuggled down deeper into the bedding and sighed. For a few moments her mind was blank, and then last night came rushing through it. Not just her mind, her body. She could feel him again, his large, warm hands on her hips, his lips against her jaw.
She flung her arm over her eyes and growled into the empty room. She didn’t want to be dealing with this at the moment. And definitely not with him. She had to keep it in the realm of business transaction or it was just … wrong.
There was a heavy knock on the door and she tugged the covers up to her throat. “Come in.”
“Morning.” He brought coffee, but he wasn’t room service. Ethan strode in, looking amazing and not at all like they’d stayed at a party until the early hours of the morning.
He was wearing a dark suit and a white shirt that was open at the collar. She could see just a hint of dark chest hair when he moved and the shirt gaped a bit … and she was staring. And it was probably obvious. She looked out the window.
“So
