Page 55 of Dangerous Lover

“What would you like for din—” Caroline cut herself off. Something was missing. The were walking down the stairs and something was missing. Something should have—“The steps! You fixed the steps! Oh my gosh!” She turned and threw her arms around Jack’s neck in a rush of gratitude. “Thank you thank you thank you!”

It was on her urgent to-do list. Item number 476 on her super-urgent to-do list.Call carpenter to fix stairs before someone breaks their neck.But she knew she could get around to it only when she had some spare cash. Which meant never.

His arms had gone around her immediately, holding her tightly against him. “If I’d known I’d get this reaction, I’d have fixed all your stairs. They creak a little. I did, however, fixyour shelves in the bathroom, repair the banister and fixed the loose doorknob to the study. What do I get for that?”

He was teasing her. She had no idea that was in him. He actually had … well, not a smile exactly, but his eyes crinkled and his hard mouth curled slightly upwards.

“My hero,” Caroline said smiling, and reaching up on tiptoe, gave him a big wet smack on the mouth.

He tensed. She could feel his muscles becoming even harder under her hands, his big hand between her shoulder blades pressing her forward.

His mouth settled over hers.

This kiss was different from the other ones. Maybe he had a whole repertory of them? This was warm, possessive, right from the beginning. He didn’t coax her mouth open with his to test her with little forays of his tongue. Her mouth was already open to him, to the slick feel of him licking inside her mouth. She was still on the step above his and it was wonderful being almost at the same level, so she didn’t have to stretch up to kiss him. She slumped against him, heart beating wildly as he kissed her nearly senseless.

Every stroke of his tongue sent shooting darts of fire all through her, but particularly between her legs. He cupped the back of her head tightly and changed the angle of his mouth so he could delve more deeply inside her and this time when his tongue touched hers, her vaginafluttered. Oh my god, he was making her contract her vagina with his mouth alone!

She pulled back and gazed at him wordlessly, almost frightened at the power he seemed to exert over her body. Carolinehad always been so slow to arouse, and here she was having the prelude to an orgasm with a mere kiss.

She had the same effect on him. Under the deep tan and his naturally dark skin, deep red slashes of red rode his high cheekbones and lower, she could definitely feel what she’d done. His penis lay like a column of marble against her belly.

Nervously, Caroline licked her lips. He followed the movements of her tongue closely, breathing hard. When she wet her lips again, his penis surged against her stomach.

Which growled.

Caroline lifted startled eyes to his, blushing furiously. “Sorry,” she gasped, mortified. Her body was making parallel demands—for sex and food—and her head couldn’t keep up. “I guess that’s a sign for me to go cook our dinner.”

“I have another idea.” He bent to kiss the corner of her mouth. “Don’t cook. Why don’t you put some stuff on a tray and bring it into the living room? I’ll light a fire and we can have a Christmas picnic.” He bent again to her, lightly brushing lips and teeth along the skin of her neck. “I don’t want you spending hours in the kitchen cooking. I want you spending hours with me.”

Oh God, when he did that, she melted. Caroline’s neck arched and she found herself smiling. How could anything so simple feel so good? He was barely touching her with his mouth and yet it sent pleasure zinging through her body. “Sounds wonderful, but I used up all the wood yesterday. If we want a fire, I’ll have to?—”

Jack frowned down at her. “I’llgo to the garage and stack some wood. Then we stuff our faces.” He took her hand andstarted back down the stairs. Caroline grasped the banister, which had been dangerously loose, and made a point of shaking it. She couldn’t move it at all, it was solid. Jack watched her, smiling faintly.

“You did a good job.”

He nodded his head. “Got an advanced degree in stair and banister repair. Aced the classes.”

Maybe did he have a degree in stair and banister repair. Boiler repair, too.

She was almost certain he had a degree in something, he was surprisingly well-spoken and seemed somehow very knowledgeable about the world. Part of that was the travel, even if to places where sandbags and machine guns played a more important role than museums. They did say that travel was broadening.

He had been an officer, she was almost sure he’d said that. And didn’t officers have to have a college degree? And what was his degree in?

She was suddenly desperately curious about this man, who’d appeared out of nowhere to give her amazing sex and repair her house. “Where did you—” she began, but he was striding away.

“Hurry up with the food, I’m starving too.” His deep voice floated in from the mud room, and a second later she heard the door to the garage open.

Caroline started ferrying the food out on big trays—cheeses, wholewheat bread, corn bread, focaccia, leftover roast beef, slices of baked ham, butter, lavender honey, homemade chutney, a sliced tomato salad with a drizzle of olive oil, lettuceand arugula salad, carrot and celery sticks with a sour cream dip, a bowl of Greek olives and two slices of chocolate cake—one big and one small.

In the time it took her to bring several trays of food out, Jack had neatly stacked enough wood in the bin to keep the fireplace going for days. It was a job she hated, and she rarely lit the fire because of it, except of course when the boiler died. It was dirty, backbreaking work and he’d done it in the blink of an eye.

It was hard to keep her eyes on what she was doing. Jack had knelt in front of the fireplace, building a fire, massive thigh muscles straining his jeans, broad back outlined in red from the burgeoning flames, exactly like last night. With any luck, it was a sight she’d be seeing all winter—Jack stoking the flames, the firelight dancing across his strong features.

He moved easily, with grace. He knew what he was doing, too. In no time, a perfect fire was blazing.

No doubt he’d learned to do that as a soldier. Repairs, fires. He had quite a repertory.

Caroline stepped back and looked, pleased, at the spread on the big coffee table. She lit four red candles and placed them on the four corners, and thought it looked like a very festive Christmas meal.

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