His arms tightened very deliberately around her. His thumb touched the base of her spine.
Think of Winston.
She cleared her throat. “Would you mind if I asked you a purely hypothetical question?”
He put his mouth against her temple. “I live to answer hypothetical questions.”
“In your considered opinion, do you think that the average man would be hesitant to become involved in a romantic relationship with a woman who was prone to lecture him in an officious, prissy manner?” She swallowed. “Even though she was right most of the time?”
He said nothing for a moment, dancing in thoughtful silence.
“The average man, maybe,” he finally conceded.
Gloom settled on her, darker than fog. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”
They danced for another moment or two. Then he brought her to a halt near the window.
“My turn to ask you a hypothetical question,” he said. “Do you think I’m average?”
She raised her head very swiftly from his shoulder. “No. No, definitely not. You’re a lot of things, Rafe Madison, but you are not average. Not in any way.”
She could feel him smiling into her hair.
“Then I don’t see that we have a problem here,” he said.
He tilted her chin up and kissed her.
She stopped thinking of Winston.
Chapter 12
She wanted him. He could feel it in the way she held him. The fine trembling in her body told him of her gathering excitement. He could not recall the last time a woman had shivered in his arms like this.
He realized his own hands were not completely steady.
Somewhere inside him there was a cloudburst. A hot rain poured down, drenching regions that had been parched and dry for what seemed like forever. Suddenly there was a rain forest where there had been only desert. The raw power, the driving need, and the exquisitely painful anticipation that shafted through him was the pulse of life itself.
He had promised himself that when this moment came he would take his time and savor the experience. He wasn’t a kid with his girlfriend in the backseat of a car. He was a man who had some experience. He knew the risks of rushing things. But the urgent hunger was an ungovernable force that threatened to overwhelm his will.
“Rafe?” Hannah speared her fingers through his hair and then tightened them around his neck. “I never intended… I mean, I didn’t expect to end up like this tonight.”
“Are you going to tell me it’s too soon?” He kissed her throat. “That we don’t know each other well enough?” He counted delicate little vertebrae with his fingertips until he reached the hollow of her back. “Because if you want to stop this, you’d better say something fast.”
“No.”
He froze, his palm on the curve of her hip, and raised his head to look down at her. “No, you don’t want to do this?”
She smiled slowly. “No, I don’t want to stop.”
He shuddered and pulled her close again. “Don’t scare me like that. My heart won’t take the shock.”
Her laugh was tiny and fraught with nervous energy. It sent sparkles of light through him. In the next moment the small sound transmuted into a sweet, anxious murmur. Her kisses became extravagant, quick, eager. Delicious.
He was tight and hard and edgy now. Every muscle straining. He could no longer think clearly. The fragrance of her body was a disturbing, disorienting incense that clouded his brain. He knew that he was swiftly losing control, but he could not seem to work up any real concern about the problem.
She wanted him.
That was all that mattered.
“Upstairs,” he said against her mouth.
“I don’t think I can make it that far.”
She fumbled with his shirt. Somewhere in the shadows a button bounced and pinged on the tile floor. Her fingers spread across his chest, warm and soft.
“Let’s try real hard to make it up the stairs,” he said.
Her response was muffled against his bare skin. “Okay.”
He guided her toward the door. Simultaneously he found the zipper of her dress and lowered it the length of her back. The top half of the garment fell to her waist. He saw that the manufacturer of her silky little black bra had skimped on fabric. The garment did not cover the top half of her br**sts.
Gathering her against his side, he worked feverishly on the clasp of the bra. At the same time he half carried, half dragged her across the hall. It was an awkward process. What the hell was the matter with him tonight? He usually didn’t have so much trouble doing two things at once.
The bra finally fell away. He had her as far as the stairs now. He heard a soft clatter and realized that one of her high heels had come off.
She lost the second one just as he got them both to the third step.
“Oh, yes.” Her hands gripped his shoulder, small nails tattooing his skin. She kissed him wildly. “Yes.”
Slowly, he worked his way up the stairs with Hannah in his arms. It wasn’t easy. She wasn’t helping him. He missed a step when she sank her teeth lightly into his bicep. She nearly lost her balance when he retaliated by kissing one taut nipple. Both of them grabbed the banister to keep from falling.
Hannah was quicksilver in his grasp. She slipped and slithered around him. He groaned aloud when he felt her hand on the buckle of his belt. Halfway to his goal, he looked up at the landing. It was lost in distant shadows.
“Not much farther,” he said hoarsely. He was lying to both of them, he thought. The top of the stairs was in another universe.
“Close enough.” She had his belt undone now. Her fingers were on his zipper.
“Better wait until we get upstairs,” he whispered.
“Can’t wait.” One nylon-clad foot glided up his leg.
He felt the heat from the inside of her thigh and sucked in his breath. They were never going to make it at this rate. It was time to take unilateral action.
He picked her up, settled her across his shoulder, and clamped one arm across the back of her legs to hold her there.
“Rafe.”
He ignored her breathless, sensual laughter. With total determination he took a firm grip on the banister and hauled them both to the top of the stairs. There he turned right and went down the hall to the bedroom he had chosen the day he arrived. It was a big one, with a sweeping view of the bay.
He went swiftly through the doorway and dumped her onto the quilt that covered the old-fashioned four-poster. She lay there amid the pillows, then reached for him with both arms. He fell on top of her.