Page 36 of The Promise
He leaned back, letting the water pound into him, washing away his need. He couldn't have her. He belonged in another time. He had responsibilities. And unlike his mother, he wasn't going to allow unbridled emotion let him forget about them.
"Are you going to stay in there all night? I'm starving."
He smiled at the sound of her voice. Just listening to her talk made him hard. So much for resolve. He closed his eyes, pretending that they were just an ordinary couple on an ordinarynight. God, how he loved ordinary. He sighed and turned off the spigots and reached for the towel she'd left him. Just two ordinary people—from two different centuries. He ran a hand through his wet hair, trying to gain control of his tangled thoughts.
Maybe ordinary was over-rated.
The door squeaked as it swung open. A slender hand snuck through the opening with a stack of clothing. "I think these will fit."
He grabbed the clothes, tempted to drag the woman attached to the arm along with them. "I'll be out in a minute."
She mumbled something and closed the door. He stood for a moment dripping on the floor, staring at the space where her hand had been. Lord, how he wanted her.
Cara leanedback against the door, trying to catch her breath. She hadn't even seen him and she felt as though she were going to explode. Desire ripped through her like a level five tornado. He was the most amazing man she'd ever known—or not known as the case might be.
Desire battled with common sense. He wouldn't stay, couldn't stay. She had to hold onto her emotions. If she lost her heart to him and he went back, she'd never survive losing him again. Unfortunately, her body had its own ideas. She ran her hands over her breasts, remembering his touch, his searing kisses. She was separated from him by two inches of wood.
Wood withhinges.
With a will of its own her hand reached behind her for the knob. Before she could shift her weight away from the door, it began to swing open. Thrown off balance, she careenedbackward, colliding with damp, sinewy muscle. Michael. She sucked in a breath and attempted to right herself, but he was quicker, encircling her with hard, sun-bronzed arms.
"I've got you." His whispered words tickled her ear, gently lifting the hair framing her face. Desire, hot and insistent, spread through her belly, reaching lower, quivering, waiting.
He bent his head, nuzzling the soft skin of her neck. She shivered in anticipation. With soft dry kisses, he traced the line of her neck and shoulder, stopping along the way to explore with his tongue. She closed her eyes, allowing sensation to wash over her. His hands massaged her stomach, making slow, languorous circles, inching upward with each pass.
She arched into him, willing his hands to move faster, higher. His lips were at her ear now, causing shivers of pure ecstasy to run up and down her spine as he tugged and licked, exploring every tender crevice. Something deep inside of her began to pulse in response to his tender ministrations.
His hands found her breasts, his strong fingers curving around them, cupping them almost reverently. She arched against him, wanting more than tender touches. His thumbs began to rub and circle relentlessly, until she was rubbing against him like a crazed cat, her body begging for more.
"Tell, me what you want, Cara."
She tipped her head back, leaning it against his shoulder.You. I want you. She tried to form the words, but his hands were robbing her of speech.
With an ear splitting trill, the phone shattered the silence. Michael jumped back. His face tightening.
"It's all right. It's just the phone." She placed a hand on his arm reassuringly. He relaxed, but still looked puzzled. She grabbed the shrieking instrument, unsure whether its shrill interference was a welcome relief or an abhorrent interruption.
"Hello." She put a hand to her breast, trying to still her heart manually. Michael, leaned against the door jamb, looking nothing short of magnificent in her grandfather's faded jeans. They hugged his hips, sliding against…she sucked in a sharp breath, trying to concentrate on the telephone conversation.
"Cara, darling, are you listening?" There was a pause and Cara's lust-filled brain finally registered that it was Nick on the other end. A bucket of cold water couldn't have worked better.
"Fine, Nick, I'm fine." At the sound of the name, Michael's lazy grin disappeared. His eyes narrowed as he listened to her end of the conversation.
"Cara, what are you doing? You're not listening to a word I'm saying."
"Yes, I am, Nick, it's just that I was busy." Michael's smile reappeared and she felt her body tighten in response.
"All right, then, I'll get to the point." Nick's voice bordered on a petulant whine. "I wanted to give you a last chance to sell me the paintings."
"Nick, I told you when you were here. I've already sold the paintings and I have absolutely no interest in reneging on the bargain I made."
"Very well, but don't say I didn't give you every chance. I have a feeling you're going to regret your decision."
"I doubt it. Good night."
"Good night, darling. And Cara?"
"Yes, Nick?"
