but he would take this as far as she let him. He wanted a glimpse at the core of the woman. Was she the innocent girl Doug had described, or a woman who felt the pull of attraction the way he did? He stepped closer still, reaching for her, even as he prepared for her to push him away.
The lights flickered, then went out, plunging them into the darkness of the blind. Natalie’s scream pierced the silence. He reached to comfort her, but she wasn’t there.
3
SARTAIN FOUND Natalie huddled against the wall, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She flinched when he touched her, but didn’t try to run away. “What is it?” he asked, taking her hand and squeezing it gently. Her fingers were icy, and he could feel her trembling.
“I—I’m afraid of the dark,” she said. “I know it’s silly, but I can’t help it, I—”
“It’s all right.” He released her hand but kept his arm around her as he felt along the wall until he came to a niche that held a candle. He located the lighter next to it, and flicked it open.
She began to relax as soon as the candle was lit. “What happened?” she asked. “Why did the lights go out?”
“Probably the storm we’re having. Lightning could have struck a transformer, or a tree could have fallen on the lines.”
“Does that happen often?”
“Enough that we keep candles in every room.”
“Why candles? Why not a flashlight?”
“Flashlight batteries corrode if left too long unused.” He looked around at the shadows cast by the candle across the stone walls. “Besides, the candlelight adds a certain atmosphere, don’t you think?”
“Damn your atmosphere. Just get me out of here.”
“In a moment.” He turned to look into her eyes. They were black in the dim light, the pupils enlarged. She’d stopped shaking, her body warm against his. All his better judgment told him to move away and lead her to the door, but then, when had he ever let judgment rule his decisions? He was a man used to indulging his passion and right now he wanted to know if Natalie felt the heat simmering between them.
Slowly, half prepared for her to slap him away, he bent toward her, and covered her lips with his own.
She stiffened, and he held still, not pressing his advantage, waiting for her to decide how far this would go. Then her breath, like a whisper, escaped in the slightest sigh, and she relaxed against him, her eyes closed, her lips parted.
He pulled her closer still, the pressure of his lips on hers increasing. Her mouth was soft and sensuous; the velvet feel of it sent desire surging through him.
Her lips parted farther and he plunged his tongue between them, tasting a faint sweetness. She gripped his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin, and he shut his eyes, surrendering to the hot wanting that engulfed him. Every nerve was alive to the feel of her, the sweep of her tongue across his teeth, the points of her breasts pressed against his chest, the tiny moans of pleasure escaping from her throat.
Light flashed behind his closed eyes, and he opened them to see that power had been restored. Once more the electric torches flickered in their sconces.
Natalie pulled away. He resisted the urge to hold her and reluctantly released her. She pressed back against the wall, one hand to her lips, confusion warring with accusation in her eyes. “You shouldn’t have done that,” she said, her voice breathy.
“Why didn’t you stop me?” He had expected her to, up until the moment her mouth opened to him, and he felt her body melt into his. He had the sense that Natalie was a woman who was used to denying herself, and that her brief surrender to him both horrified and fascinated her.
She looked away. “I wasn’t myself. I was upset. I—”
“Shhh.” He brushed her hair back from her forehead. She trembled at his touch, but didn’t push him away. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me.”
“Of course I do.” She straightened and fixed him with a stern look. “I work for you. What just happened between us—”
“It was a kiss. You don’t have to be afraid to say it.”
Her cheeks were a deep pink, and he sensed her struggle to continue to meet his gaze. “It was highly unprofessional behavior,” she said.
He shrugged. “Sometimes it’s okay to do something simply because it feels right.” Kissing Natalie had felt more right than anything he’d done in a long while.
She shook her head. “I don’t believe that.”
“You don’t?” He grinned. “Then I’ll do my best to teach you.”
Her expression hardened and she marched past him, out the door. Her high heels sounded a sharp retort as she hurried up the stairs.
He followed at a slower pace, still on edge from that amazing kiss. Something was definitely going on between the two of them and though he’d never admit it out loud, this sudden and intense connection had left him every bit as unsettled as she was.
NATALIE STOPPED in the hallway outside the suite of offices and tried to regain her composure. Her lips still burned with the feel of Sartain’s mouth on hers and the memory of the fierce desire he’d raised in her left her shaking.
Was it the man himself or only the situation in which they’d found themselves that had affected her this way? She’d been shocked at her first sight of the dungeon—as he’d no doubt intended. Then she’d recognized the black humor of the moment—the juvenile fun of scaring oneself that made haunted houses and horror movies so popular.
She’d wondered about the connection between Sartain’s appreciation for the dungeon and his rumored sexual proclivities, and had been bold enough to ask him about it. His answer had stirred her more than she cared to admit. All his talk of the freedom to be gained by surrender spoke to her own longing to rebel against the restrictions she’d operated under all her life. Self-control and mastery over her own body had kept her safe when she was performing on the high trapeze, but how often had it held her back from the pure joy of her art?
Then the lights had flickered and the familiar terror had overtaken her. Vertigo made her head swim, as if she was falling, and a scream tore from her throat before she could bite it back. Part of her mind knew she was in no danger but that part held no sway over the fear that had been a fixture in her life since her accident.
She’d welcomed Sartain’s arms around her, so solid and comforting. His strength and calmness wrapped around her like a blanket. Then on the heels of her retreating panic came fierce desire, the need to revel in everything that made her feel so alive.
For a moment, in Sartain’s arms, she had glimpsed the ecstasy of abandon, every bit as exhilarating as her first leap into space from the trapeze tower.
And then the lights had flickered on, reminding her of the danger of falling, and she’d drawn back, shocked at her behavior, and at Sartain’s.
She tried to remain angry with him, to convince herself he’d taken advantage of her when she was in a vulnerable position. But
