Page 16 of Forbidden Heat

8

Attention

When I wake,I’m momentarily disoriented, uncertain of where I am. My internal clock says hours have passed; it should be morning, but the room is pitch dark. Then that delicious woodsy smell hits me, and all my senses come online, bombarding me with messages.

I’m in a bed, and a man’s heavy body is pressed against mine, my back to his front. A strong arm is wrapped around my waist. And something warm and hard is nestled in the cleft of my ass.

The heat of him, his nearness, his scent, it’s all bombarding my body with tantalizing sensations. There’s a heaviness between my legs, an ache that makes me feel restless and needy. My legs shift before I can stop them, and I feel him wake.

The bedside lights come on, the arm at my waist turns me onto my back, and I’m looking up at Cameron. He lowers his head, his dark eyes capturing mine. “What are you doing in my bed, Haley Morgan?”

I’m certain that once I explain, he’ll understand. But an impish spirit makes me want to tease him. “I fell asleep.”

He arches one dark brow. “I’ll rephrase. What were you doing in my bed when you fell asleep?”

“It was an accident.” I’m trying not to smile.

Cameron, however, does not look amused. He’s not angry, but he is serious. “You thought you’d accidentally tempt me into breaking my word?”

Oh. “No,” I say hastily, all teasing gone. “It’s just, when Mr. Jameson walked me to my room, I got scared. I was seeing bogeymen everywhere. But I felt safe in here.”

His face softens. My bossy man has a tender side, though I wouldn’t tell him that, not in so many words. “In that case …” He brings his mouth to my ear. “I can tell you that you are a very great temptation.”

At once, the ache in my core intensifies. I want his hand, and then his cock, to move between my legs and invade me, claim me, satisfy the hunger that’s burning inside me with the force of a thousand fires.

My nipples have gone hard, poking against the flimsy fabric of my nightie. I can almost feel him looking at them, drinking in the obvious evidence of my arousal. It only makes them stiffen more.

“Perhaps,” he says in the same low, intimate tone, “I should punish you.”

“Cameron,” I moan, and put my hand over the one cupping my breast, ready to drag it where I need it.

He lets out a soft growl. “Have you forgotten who’s in charge here?”

“Cam, please.” I wriggle, desperate, and he nips at my earlobe, making me gasp and roll against him.

“Naughty girl,” he says softly, and then I’m on my back again and his mouth is sealed to mine in a long, deep, drugging kiss. And his hand, finally, is shifting down my body.

Until a knock sounds at the door.

He swears. “Don’t move,” he orders, and rolls away from me. I lie absolutely still, except for my head, which I turn to see him, and my eyes, which drink in the glorious sight of his naked backside as he pulls on a robe.

When he opens the door, I hear the murmur of Mrs. Jameson’s voice. “Miss Morgan is here,” he tells her. “She was feeling frightened and came to talk to me.”

I’m certain the housekeeper has not missed the fact that I’m apparently “talking” to Cameron while he’s barely dressed. But all she says, loud enough for me to hear this time, is, “Very good, sir. Breakfast will be ready shortly.”

A subtle reminder to us not to start any hanky-panky? Or maybe I’m reading too much into it.

Cam comes back to me and says, “Shortly means in about ten minutes, according to my watch.”

“So … I should go.”

“Ten minutes is definitely not enough for what I have in mind.” He helps me out of bed, pulls me into his arms, and kisses me, one hand smoothing over my hair and skimming down my back until it reaches my ass.

He gives me a squeeze; I melt against him, and the kiss deepens, but only for a moment before Cameron breaks off, resting his forehead against mine. “You do tax my self-control, Miss Morgan.”

“You obliterate mine, Mr. Thorne.”

One more kiss, this one hard and fast and scorching, before he sets me away from him. “Go and get dressed before we scandalize the Jamesons.”

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