thick dark hair and blade-thin mouth. His eyes, midnight blue in the gloaming, held hers and the night seemed to close around them. Laughter, music and conversation grew suddenly distant, and the air, still and muggy, became thick. When his gaze shifted to her neck, she knew he could see the tempo of her heartbeat at the base of her throat.
“I’m surprised you’re here,” she said.
“Command performance.”
“Who commanded?”
“The king.” When she didn’t smile, he explained, “You called me the prince. That would make my father—”
“The king,” she said.
“So now I’ve done my duty.”
Her heart dropped. “And now you’re leaving.”
Smoldering blue eyes held hers. “Want to come along?”
“And go where?”
“Does it matter?”
No! her heart silently screamed, but she knew she couldn’t just take off. Not without an explanation to her parents and to Sam. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” He cocked his head toward the group of boys huddled in the parking lot. “Your boyfriend disapprove?”
“I already told you he’s not—” He took hold of her shoulders, pulled her impatiently against him and cut off her explanation with a kiss. Hot and supple, hungry and anxious, his lips molded firmly over hers.
She didn’t protest, but sagged against him, her arms encircling his neck. She drank in the smell and taste of him, felt the sweet wet pressure of his tongue as it insistently prodded her teeth apart and explored the dark inner reaches of her mouth.
When he dragged her deeper into the foliage, she followed willingly, her lips still pressed to his, her body beginning to respond in wanton, lusty abandon. His hands spanned her waist, and his lips claimed hers with such passion that her head spun and her body began to ache.
When one hand moved upward to cup her breast, she sighed into his mouth. His thumb brushed in eager circles over her nipples and her bra was suddenly far too tight. He slipped his fingers beneath the hem of her blouse, upward until he touched the webbing of lace that covered her breasts. Groaning, he pushed her back against a tree and she sagged as his fingers probed and plundered, massaged and sculpted the shape of her breast until she felt as if she were on fire. The ache between her thighs began to pulse.
“Why do you do this to me?” he whispered hoarsely, as if he were angry with the world. He still held her breast, but now his body was pressed against hers and he was breathing in deep, trembling gulps of air.
“Do...do what?”
“Torture me.”
“I don’t—”
“Oh, hell, sure you do! You’ve got to know it! I’m crazy when I’m around you.” With his free hand he reached up and tilted her chin so that she was forced to look into his eyes, then slowly, deliberately, he circled her nipple with his other hand, gently rolling the taut bud in his fingers.
Nadine could barely breathe. Her diaphragm pressed hard against her lungs. His hips were snug against hers and his hardness was forced deep against her midriff. “You’re all I’ve thought about for days,” he admitted. “I want you, Nadine,” he said simply. “And I can’t have you.”
She wanted to ask why, but knew the answer deep in her heart. He was the rich kid, the boy who was used to taking anything he wanted, and she was a poor girl whose father worked for his, a nobody, and therefore off-limits.
“Nadine?”
“Oh, God, that’s Ben,” Nadine said with a gasp as she pushed herself away from him.
“What is it with your brother? Doesn’t he trust you?”
She glanced back at Hayden and flipped her hair away from her shoulders. “I think it’s you he doesn’t trust.”
Hayden’s eyes narrowed. “He’s smarter than I gave him credit for.”
She looked back to the dance, the torchlights being lit, the streamers and balloons and Sam, standing a little less steadily, laughing with a group of his friends. Ben was walking crisply along the path leading toward them and if it weren’t for the fact that Patty Osgood called out to him, he would have surely discovered his sister with Hayden.
“I want to come with you,” Nadine said impulsively, and for a second, the ghost of a smile played upon his lips. He reached for her hand, then dropped it quickly.
“Forget it.”
“But you invited me—”
Hayden stared at her so hard, she didn’t dare say a word. “I want nothing more in the world than for you to climb into that car and go home with me,” he said, shoving a handful of dark hair from his eyes. “But it would only get you into trouble again.”
“I don’t care.”
“Your brother—”
“It’s none of his business what I do!” she said indignantly.
“But your parents?”
“They’ll never know if we come back quickly.”
He hesitated, then let out his breath in a whistle. “You’re not making this any easier, you know. Besides, what about your...‘friend’?”
“I don’t owe him anything.”
“You came with him.”
“I came with my folks.”
“You know what I mean.”
She did, of course. But she’d risk hurting Sam’s feelings to be with Hayden. “It’s okay.”
He shook his head, though reluctance shone in his eyes.
“Hayden,” she said, her voice throaty, “I want to be with you. Maybe it’s a mistake, but if you want to be with me, then—” Impulsively she wound her arms around his neck and he groaned.
“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”
“Tell me.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, as if closing out her image would push her from his mind, as well. “Nadine, don’t—” He started to untangle her arms. Startled, she looked into his eyes and he moaned loudly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” she said. “I won’t let you.”
“Promise?” His face was so close she saw the tiny lines at the crinkle of his eyelids and inhaled the very essence of him.
“Promise.”
His mouth captured hers and he gently
