Page 44 of His Mansion

Her butt landed on the crash mat with a delicately soft touch, and she breathed a sigh of relief, laid back and closed her eyes. Only fifteen feet and she’d had a freaking acrophobia attack. After three weeks of hard work, that was all she’d accomplished? How was she supposed to get back to living a full and exciting life when she couldn’t even get past the baby marker?

Beside her shoulder, the mat dipped, and she wearily popped one eye open to spot Derrick seated on her left. “I know you probably don’t think so, but you did great.”

Bullshit. “Define great.” That sexy smile of his was back, and at least now she could blame the way her heart beat out of control on something other than her annoying new fear of heights.

“You didn’t expect to be able to hit the ceiling so soon, did you? Go back to free climbing and lead climbing as if nothing happened? You had a major fall and it’s going to take time to get over?—”

“Shut up.” Mel snapped to a sitting position to glare at him across a more even playing field. Damn, that was inexcusably rude, but she didn’t care. The intensity of anger that hit came as a surprise, yet it was a welcome relief to counteract the paralyzing fear that controlled her life. She tilted her chin and met his gaze again. “Don’t tell me it’s going to take time. It’s been three years, and I’m still so chicken I’m afraid to walk across the street without looking both ways twelve times.”

Confusion flashed over his face. “What does that have to do with climbing? Or your accident? The ropes failed. It was a freak situation and never should have happened, but you’ve recovered and?—”

Melanie slammed a hand onto the mat next to her. “Recovering. I’m not nearly as strong as I was. Before the accident, I was always traveling and exploring the wilderness. Set new routes for others at outdoor sites in the summer. I used to climb all day and dance all night. And it’s all gone, okay? The exploring, the friends. The dancing and enjoying being with other people. I’ve been living like a hermit. I haven’t had sex in three damn years. So when the hell am I going to get over being afraid?”

Oh my God. She hadn’t said that. She scrambled to her feet and turned her back on him, fumbling to undo the figure-eight knot holding the rope twined through her safety harness.

Strong arms surrounded her, his hands blocking her attempts at the knot and holding them still. He was a wall of muscle behind her, hot and firm, making all her earlier thoughts return. Sweaty, needy, entangled bodies and…she wasn’t going to be distracted from the fact she was pissed off. She struggled and his grip tightened as he backed up a pace, moving away from the wall.

“Melanie, it’s okay.” He didn’t release her, but his clasp changed, one hand locking her immobile, the other caressing her gently. Prying her hands from the rope until he could slip his fingers over hers, his fingertips teasing the webbing between each digit. The motion was intimate and soothing even as it sent a tingle up her arm.

She closed her eyes, the heat in her face slipping to her chest and farther inside—a rush of warmth that tightened her throat and made it tough to breathe.

He nuzzled at her nape, the warm air of his breathing a caress down her neck. “Melanie?”

Right there in front of her was the wall that had defeated her again. She tilted her head to stare at it, fear making her legs quiver the higher her gaze rose. Only this time Derrick was solid at her back, his warmth a cocoon of safety.

Longing to move forward hit like a thunderclap. Longing for the touch of a man—this man—intertwined with her desires. She’d been afraid for so long.

Melanie twisted in his arms to stare into his eyes—dark midnight pools that were filled with something more than concern. Derrick brushed a knuckle against her temple, smoothing back a loose hair. All the time his gaze fixed on hers.

Then he leaned closer, slowly. Giving time for escape, for retreat, before his lips made contact.

Whisper soft. Not hesitant, but careful.

Too careful. Melanie leaned in harder, accepting his offering. Derrick responded, becoming more forceful and direct. Heat built between them as he ravished her mouth and her mood flipped again. All her stored-up frustrations burst out into glorious lust and she opened her lips willingly. Somehow she found her fingers tangled in his hair like she’d dreamed of earlier. He showed his approval by clutching her hips to him, his arousal evident even through the mass of webbing in the harnesses lashed around their hips. The safety rope wove between their bodies; the hard surface another contrast against the delicate brush of his fingers as he trailed them up her arms.

He kissed her, his tongue teasing along her teeth, tickling her lips, plunging deep. Their breaths mingled as they separated for a second to gasp for air then dove back for more. The tight knot of fear in her belly slipped into an aching need a handspan lower, centered between her legs.

Maybe she should have freaked out sooner. Maybe coming to the climbing wall and forcing herself to get back into a harness was the best thing she could have done.

Maybe she should just concentrate on the man she wanted to climb up and swing from the rafters with. Her swelling desire shoved the lingering stench of her anxiety into the corner as she let the thrill of arousal take her away.

Derrick figuredhe’d be kicking his own ass once this was over, but for now he reveled in the woman melting in his arms. For the past three weeks he’d been as patient and gentle as a saint. He’d ignored the urge to make a move, sensing her nervousness, thinking it was about her getting back into the swing of climbing again. He’d forced himself to stay aloof and make the situation as peaceful and serene as possible, all the while longing to find out what Melanie Dixon tasted like.

Even the fact she was related to a good friend wasn’t enough to stop him from expressing interest in the dark-haired beauty. Kane’s little sister was grown up enough to know her own mind, and what she’d said she needed was to regain her courage in the climbing arena.

If she had given him even an inkling of what she’d just shared, he would have been all over her weeks ago. Now he was finally getting the chance.

Screw the consequences. She needed this—maybe even more than he did. And he needed it bad.

God, she could kiss. She held his head in traction between her palms, lips tight to his. Every breath he dragged in tasted like her, with that damn tongue exploring and rampaging through his mouth. He cupped her butt and dragged her higher to line them up better, thrusting his own tongue along hers, pulsing it like he wanted to pulse into her body. Her moan of approval rippled along his spine, and he went from hard to utterly rigid. The confining straps of the harness holding his khakis in place pressed on him violently enough to cut off circulation.

Derrick took another step back. There was a sudden jerk as the rope between them snagged and he tripped. Melanie let out a little scream. He rolled instantly to his back to catch her, swearing at his own stupidity in giving her any reason to not trust him.Great, asshole. Drop the woman who’s afraid of falling.

Nothing happened. He lay flat on his back, but instead of the sudden contact of her body slamming against his, he heard a peal of laughter echo off the high walls of the climbing gym.

“Damn it, Derrick, get me out of this mess.”

Her voice came from directly above him, and he looked up to see her face hovering over his. It took a second to follow the lines and figure out what had happened. The loose end of the rope was tangled around his torso, pinned in place by his body weight. The middle of the length rose to the ceiling, looped through the support hooks as it should and returned down to where Melanie’s harness was secured into the other end.

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