But her alternative was to go to her own room. And she didn’t really want to be alone, either.

After blow-drying her hair, she wrapped a towel around herself and went into his room to get some clean clothes. Then she changed into her nightie in the bathroom and climbed into his bed.

Because he hadn’t moved or spoken while she was preparing for bed, she thought he was asleep. But he wasn’t. He changed his position as she straightened the covers. She thought—even hoped—he’d pull her to him. That glitter in his eye at the restaurant had revealed his hunger. But he didn’t act on it. He faced the wall.

“Do you have enough blankets?” she asked.

“I’m fine.”

“Okay.”

In the silence she could hear the sounds of the forest. The forlorn hoot of an owl reminded her of the night she’d awakened to find a man in a ski cap digging her grave.

She moved a little closer to Cain. “Good night,” she whispered.

He didn’t respond. But when she moved closer still, and came up against his bare back, he rolled over and pulled her toward him so she could rest her head on his shoulder.

He was wearing his boxers; she could feel the fabric against her leg. She had nothing to worry about.

Shutting her eyes, she reveled in the smooth skin against her cheek. This was better. This was perfect. A girl couldn’t ask for anything more. But memories of their lovemaking intruded.

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Quit denying yourself…quit denying me, he’d said.

She lay there, barely breathing for probably fifteen minutes. She was waiting for the desire to dissipate, for Cain to go to sleep.

But it was no use. She knew what she wanted, and she knew she was going to take it.

Lifting her head, she pressed a kiss to his chest, then his neck and jaw. And finally she found his mouth.

Sheridan’s hair fell around Cain’s face, silky soft, as she leaned up on her elbows and touched her lips to his. It was a light kiss, sweet and unintrusive, but it surprised him that she’d initiated a kiss at all. He never expected her to make the first move; he thought she’d play it safe and go to sleep, and he’d been determined to let her. Instead, her hands moved over his chest, touching, seeking, testing him to see if he’d give her the response she needed.

His body responded, all right. But he held himself in check, touching her only as lightly as she touched him, giving her plenty of time to explore, to let the desire build. He’d made love to her twice; she seemed to want to be in charge this time.

She kissed him again, grazing his lips with the tip of her tongue as she did. With a helpless groan, he threaded his fingers in her hair and let her kiss him as she chose, which she did so gently he felt a sort of exquisite longing he’d never experienced before.

More, he thought. Give me more. But he resisted taking control.

“You taste good,” she murmured. “And you feel good, too.”

Closing his eyes, he clenched his jaw as he fought the urge to roll her beneath him. Go slow. He’d never been this desperate for a woman. He felt like he had to take what he could fast, right now—while Sheridan wasn’t trying to reserve part of herself for someone else or for later or for never.

Afraid the opportunity to make love to her while she was this open to him might disappear, he slid his hands up her nightgown, massaging her back. He was so damn eager for the clothes to come off, but he wanted her to decide when that happened.

She didn’t seem to be in half the hurry he was. Straddling him in her panties, she slowly ground her hips against him.

He put his hands on her waist to hold her still for a moment, just until he could stop shaking and his heart could slow a little. But then she bent forward and opened her mouth, kissing him deeply, the way he’d wanted her to the other night. Then he knew his heart wasn’t going to slow.

“I can’t wait,” he whispered against her lips. “I want to be inside you.”

She pulled back to look at him, and he thought he read confusion in her eyes.

“We’ll do it slow later,” he whispered. “I promise.” And the next thing he knew, the clothes were gone.

19

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a premature ejaculator,” Sheridan said.

Cain couldn’t help laughing at the teasing note in her voice. “That was a pretty pathetic performance,” he admitted.

She grinned down at him, her teeth glinting in the darkness as she played with his hair. “You’re lucky I don’t kiss and tell. That could ruin your reputation, Mr. Granger.”

“Hey!” He scowled. “It’s not over yet.” He reversed their positions, rolling her onto her back, but she clutched at his hair, stopping him when he bent to kiss her breast.

“What if I want more of the real thing?” she challenged.

“You might have to be patient for a minute.” He kissed her cheek, her neck. “But I can make sure you enjoy the wait.”

He knew she was only giving him a hard time. He even liked the sassy flirting. But he was determined to turn the tables on her, to make her gasp and moan until she couldn’t remember that she’d ever had a complaint. But then the dogs began to bark, and he heard a car in the drive.

Someone was outside. At this time in the morning? He checked the alarm clock. It was after three.

His heart started pounding again, but for an entirely different reason than it had a few minutes ago. After the attack on Sheridan in the forest, he had no idea what might be coming at him. He yanked on his boxers and grabbed the rifle he kept in his closet. “Get under the bed and stay there until I come for you,” he whispered and headed for the door.

Cain stood sideways against the wall between his front door and living room window, peeking through the blinds. He didn’t recognize the car, but he couldn’t get a good look, either. The headlights nearly blinded him.

A second later, the lights went off but whoever was driving it didn’t get out right away.

That made him very uneasy. What the hell was going on?

He heard some scurrying in the bedroom. “You’re not under the bed?” he snapped at Sheridan.

“No. I’m calling the cops before you get hurt.”

He wanted to order her back to safety, but he figured she was doing the right thing. “Then stay down.”

Finally, he heard the car door open. Or he thought he did. It was hard to tell with the dogs yelping like mad. Cracking open the front door, he poked out the muzzle of his rifle. “Who are you and what do you want?” he called.




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