“Stop being so nice to me,” she said raggedly.
“No.” He caressed her cheek. “Sorry. In fact, tonight, I might even be extra nice to you. Deal with it.”
Damn him. Damn him and his tenderness and his beautiful eyes and his gentle voice and his seeming to actually care. “Dane . . .” she said, fighting to keep sharp. “When we get upstairs. I want sex. I need it.” I need you. “Make me forget for a while.”
He stared at her, eyes blazing. Then he reached up with both hands to hold her face, kissed her softly, and whispered, “Whatever you want.”
“I want to forget tonight happened,” she whispered back. She pulled one of his hands down and pushed it into the open front of her robe, cupping his hand around her bare breast. The warmth of his hand against her skin felt like heaven. “Okay? Make me forget.”
He stroked his thumb across her nipple and she sighed with pleasure.
“I’ll make you forget your damn name,” he promised, and took her mouth with his.
When they got to his suite, she went straight into the bedroom, silently stripped off her clothes, and got into his bed. He watched her almost cautiously, with that same look he’d had in his eyes all night. Concern. He was worried about her. Which implied caring, feeling . . . that look in his eyes made her uneasy, and she couldn’t ignore it. She needed to concentrate on something else. Think about him, his face, his body, his sexy ways . . . yes, that was something better to focus on.
Without speaking, he also undressed, not rushing. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she let her eyes travel over his body as he revealed it to her, part by mouthwatering part. His broad shoulders, the taut muscles in his arms . . . his chest, lightly covered in hair, and the way his waist narrowed down into sinfully carved hips . . . his solid thighs, long legs . . . and his gorgeous cock, thick and standing at the ready for her. The sight of his hard-on, the evidence that he still wanted her after such a tumultuous night, made all her nerve endings tingle. Good Lord, he was handsome, astonishingly so. She loved his beautiful face, and she adored his beautiful body. She could admit that. Hell, she couldn’t deny that.
Would she ever not enjoy looking at him, would she ever not get that rush of breathless desire? Just look at him like, eh, yeah, whatever? She couldn’t imagine such a day would ever exist. He was physically flawless as far as she could tell. It wasn’t fair. And the visceral response she had to him, every time, was heady and intoxicating. Dane’s body was like a drug, and she was becoming addicted.
Addicted. Like a drug . . .
A flash of Liam’s face burst through her mind. His face so close to hers, the desperate look in his eyes, his rank cigarette breath as he tried to kiss her. “God, Julesie. You look so good. Just one kiss, c’mon . . .”
She shivered.
Sliding beneath the covers, Dane reached for her and pulled her close. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked quietly. He brushed her hair back from her eyes with careful fingertips, then trailed them down her cheek.
His kindness lanced her. The feathery gentle touch, his velvety and soothing tone of voice, the unmistakable worry in his gaze . . . her heart shook. “I’m fine,” she insisted. “And I’ll be better once you throw me around a little. Don’t be gentle.”
His eyes held hers. “Funny . . . I think gentle is what you need right now.”
“No. No, it’s not,” she said, almost desperately. Her heart bounced around in her chest.
“I beg to differ.”
When he looked at her, he seemed to look into her. Oh, God, she did want him to hold her, to caress her, to tenderly make love to her, to make the ugliness go away, to make the smell of Liam’s breath against her face disappear, to make her insides stop shaking from seeing him again and all the soul-crushing memories it had brought rushing back.
Dane sensed that. He knew what she needed even when she fought against it, and that flat out scared her. If she succumbed to his tenderness tonight, as vulnerable as she felt right then, she’d do something stupid like fall for him, or feel something she didn’t want to feel.
Suddenly she realized that she was already fighting that—that she did feel something for him. And it was something big and encompassing, something beyond lust, or mild interest, or friendship. What she felt was a lot like affection, and adoration, and connection.
He was the one she wanted to comfort her tonight. He was the one who made her heart speed up every time she saw him. Every time he looked into her eyes, or touched her. Every time he gave her a wiseass remark or tried to coax a smile out of her. Oh God. It was too late. She’d fallen for him, hard. How could she have not realized it before? When had she gotten so good at lying to herself? And what was she doing?
Panic seized her, washing over her like a tidal wave. Her heart rate skyrocketed and she pushed away from him. “This is a bad idea,” she blurted out, and tried to get out of bed.
“Oh no, you don’t.” Dane grasped her arm and turned her back to him. Quick as lightning, he slid one arm around her to hold her in place, and the other hand came up to cup her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Julia. Please, stop. Just stop. You don’t have to run. You’re safe here.”
Her breath was coming in short, hard puffs and her eyes were wide with alarm. She looked completely freaked out. It made his heart squeeze in his chest.
“Shhh. Take a breath,” he said in his most soothing tone, caressing her cheek with his thumb. “It’s okay now. You’re okay.”
“No, I’m not,” she said, her voice shaky. “I should go.”
His insides churned. Damn Liam for showing up there tonight. Damn the both of them, him and Max. God, what they’d done to her. But Dane’s hand tightened on her face, forcing her to look into his eyes. “Look at me, Julia. I’m not Liam. I’m not Max. They were despicable scumbags. You were alone. And you were vulnerable, at their mercy. You’re not anymore. You never will be again, not to them, not to anyone.” He stroked her face. She was trembling now, and it made his heart shudder and twist. “You’re strong now, Julia. You have total control over your life. You’re not at anyone’s mercy. You know that.”
His voice softened, and so did his touch. “And honey, I swear to you, I’m nothing like them. I respect you. I like you. I don’t want anything from you but your company. I have no agenda. You are safe with me.”
Her eyes were wide on his, and her breathing had calmed. Carefully, he leaned in and dropped a featherlight kiss on her lips. “Let me hold you. Tonight, let me love you. Gently.”
Tears welled in her eyes and she sniffed them back. Damn, she was always fighting.
“You don’t have to be strong tonight, not now,” he whispered. With the utmost tenderness, he kissed her forehead, her temple, her mouth. “Even if it’s just for tonight, trust in me. Let me soothe you, care for you. Let yourself take it. Okay?”
She sniffled again, but a lone tear spilled over and ran down her cheek. He kissed it away.
With a shuddering breath, her arms slipped around his neck and she held on to him as if her life depended on it. She trembled in his arms, her breath warm against his throat as she clung to him. He felt her tears wet his skin. “Okay,” she whispered.
Something inside him broke. Fell away, melted. Something like light replaced it. Brightness, warm and powerful. And caring. And protectiveness. And need. And . . .
Holy Mother of God, he loved her. He’d never been in love in his life, but he knew then, without a doubt, that he loved her. Nothing else could describe the overwhelming waves of what was crashing through him. She was it. He loved her.
He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. Shining with tears, she looked back at him with such raw need, such fragile openness . . . the emotions swelled within him as he was consumed with wanting to make her feel his love, to make her feel safe and adored.
And he knew if he told her that, she’d run for the hills and never look back.
So he decided to do the next best thing, the only thing he could.
He’d show her.
Caressing her body with light, feather-gentle strokes, he trailed his lips across her skin. He covered her face in kisses, tiny sweet ones, on her cheeks, her nose, her eyelids, her mouth, until her tears stopped. Slowly he continued along her throat, her shoulders, her chest . . .
Her fingers tangled in his hair as he worked his way down her body, covering her in tender kisses until she tugged at him to come back up. Looking into her eyes, he hovered over her and stared as he brushed her hair back from her forehead. Their gazes locked and held. Emotion rushed through him, quieter now but still powerful. He thought the words in his head, trying them on for size since he’d never said them to a woman before. I love you. Love you . . .
“I could look at you all day long,” he said.
“It’s nighttime,” she pointed out.
“I could look at you all night long.”
“Back atcha.”
With her sassy little quips, he knew she was trying to hold on to the last shreds of her defenses. “You’re a very beautiful woman, Julia,” he murmured. He kissed her, long and slow. “And you taste good too.”
A surprised giggle burst from her. “Yeah?”
“Mm-hmm.” He dipped his head to sip from her lips some more. “God, yeah . . .” He deepened the kiss and she opened to him. Their arms entwined, their tongues tangled. They held each other close and kissed for a long time. With his mouth, with his hands, with his body, he tried to make her feel cherished, secure, even revered. Gradually, he felt her body ease at last, the trembling replaced by surer movements.
After a long, dreamy while, the kisses intensified, and then her hips nudged his.
“Make love to me,” she whispered.
His heart skipped a beat. She’d never said anything so soft and so sweet to him before. Not like that. In answer, he cradled her head in his hands and kissed her deeply, with all the tenderness he possessed.
Chapter Fourteen
Golden rays of sunlight peeked in through the curtains, too bright on Julia’s face. She moaned softly and rolled away from the light—into a warm, naked body. Her eyes snapped open. Her heart stopped for a second, then took off with a gallop. She’d stayed the night. Jesus, she’d slept there. She never stayed the night.
But even in her shock, she had to pause. While asleep, Dane looked like a Greek god, damn him. His long, dark lashes made her want to touch them. His chiseled jaw was covered in dark stubble, only making him even sexier to her. And his curls, those curls she absolutely adored . . . all tousled, calling to her fingers to come and play. She stared at him.
The rise and fall of his chest hypnotized and lulled her as she considered him. No man had ever made love to her as sweetly and attentively as he had last night. Her insides wobbled just thinking about it. He’d blown apart the last of her preconceived notions with might. Dane Harrison was no flighty playboy. He wasn’t a player at all. He was decent, kind, and caring. Sensitive and sweet. He’d been so good to her last night.
Last night . . . oh God, Liam . . .
She squeezed her eyes shut against the memory. Liam showing up, out of nowhere, after all this time . . . and at her job, for God’s sake. She couldn’t have been more shocked. Then, when he grabbed her and shoved her back against the wall, scared. Then, she’d totally lost it. In front of Dane. First screaming and trying to claw at Liam, then breaking down into tears like a weak fool. And he’d stayed. He should’ve gone running, dumped her on the spot. They were only sleeping together, after all—he didn’t have to do a thing for her, much less stick around for that kind of garbage.
But no. What had he done? Stood up for her. Let her cry and fall apart. Asked for details so he could better understand. Ordered drinks and food and made sure she was all right. Hung out with her and Kelvin like they were all old friends. Took her up to his suite to comfort her, make love to her, and done so with a tenderness beyond anything she could have imagined. And then he’d held her. Held her close, and tight, with gentle softness in his eyes, his voice, his touch . . .
He’d been so gentle, so tender, that her heart had just thawed, tumbled, and split wide open. She’d never felt so adored; not just in how he touched her, but in how he spoke to her, looked at her. She saw true feeling in his stunning blue eyes, she sensed it. It had taken her breath away. And that was it. He’d looked right into her eyes as he slid deep inside her, touched her heart with that intense but affectionate stare, and she’d thought, clear as day, I love you.
She’d fallen asleep in his arms, with him stroking her back and whispering honeyed words . . . “I’ve got you,” he told her over and over as she drifted off to sleep. “I’ve got you.”
How could she not love him after last night? And it was awful, just awful. Admitting to herself she loved him was the worst thing she’d done in a long, long time.
Her heart thumped against her ribs as panic started welling in her chest. He’ll never love you, her mind screamed at her. Get out now, while you can, you fool. He’ll never choose someone like you.
She pulled away from Dane, careful not to wake him. Her stomach flipped nauseously as her demons continued to torment her. Come ON, Julia, get real! You’re from another world. He’s crazy rich, younger than you, drop-dead gorgeous. And one day, he’ll want a child of his own. You’re too old to give him children. You’re a good time, “Red”. You’re for now. He’ll never love you back. He was so nice to you last night because he felt sorry for you.
No strings, remember? He agreed to that because that’s what he wants. Go. NOW.
Shaking inside, she untangled herself from his arms and slipped out of bed. Her clothes were in a pile on the floor where she’d left them the night before, and she tiptoed to them. With trembling hands, she turned her back to him to pull on her panties, then her bra.
“Where you goin’?” came Dane’s gravelly voice.
She whirled to face him. He was awake and watching her. Busted. “I . . . have to go,” she mumbled, reaching for the pale blue cotton tank dress on the floor. She pulled it over her head and down over her body with quick, terse movements.
“No you don’t,” he said, his tone changing. “Come here.”
“No. I have to leave.” She looked around wildly. Where was her bag? What had she done with her shoes? Her heart started to pound.
“Julia. Look at me.”
She shook her head and continued to search. All she heard was roaring in her ears, the blood pulsing.
He threw back the covers and went to her, grasping her shoulders. “Look at me.”
She did, hoping he couldn’t see the swirl of raging emotions she was fighting. Hoping he couldn’t see what she felt for him, bubbling deep and trying to break through. But his eyes were intense, searching her face for clues.
“Tell me why you have to go,” he said.
“I just do,” she stammered. Her mind blanked, and the rising panic was making it harder for her to breathe. Her heart felt stuck in her chest, and she rubbed at her sternum in an effort to relieve the pressure.
“What the—why are you shaking? Hey. Everything’s okay.” His velvety voice, intending to soothe, only made it worse. God, when he used that tone with her, her bones melted to goop. She adored it. She adored him. Ugh, she was in too deep. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to care about him, much less fall in love with him.
“I—I need air. I have to go. Let me go.” She shoved away from him and walked out to the sitting room. Her bag was on the coffee table, and she spotted her shoes by the door.
“Don’t leave like this,” he said with an edge, following her. “Please. Talk to me.”
She glanced at him. Still naked, he was glorious to look at. Did he have to look so damn good when she was fighting off a panic attack? Fighting the frightening things she felt for him? Trying to make a clean getaway? “There’s nothing to talk about,” she bit out. She grabbed her bag and slung the strap over her shoulder.
“I think we have lots to talk
about,” he said, his voice clipped. “But you’re running away. Even after last night. I thought—”
She turned on him and almost shouted, “I don’t do sleepovers. I don’t stay the night.”
“Well, maybe you don’t usually have nights like we had last night,” he offered. “A night like that would wipe anyone out. I passed out pretty quickly too.”
She shook her head and started for the exit. In two seconds, he had cut around her and stood in front of the door.
“You’re going to keep me here?” she said tightly.
“No, of course not. But Julia . . .” He stared down at her, his bright blue eyes flashing. “Don’t run away,” he ground out. “You’re better than that.”
“Apparently I’m not,” Julia said in a low growl. “Stop telling me what to do, what to feel, who I am. Stop trying to manage my life. Let me out.”
Dane’s mind raced. He knew a fight or flight when he saw one, and she was running for her life. She was anxious, shaky, and looked both mad as hell and scared to death at the same time. He wasn’t trying to manage her life, for God’s sake. But something told him that if he let her walk out the door now, their . . . relationship, arrangement, whatever the hell it was, would be over. And he cared about her too much to let her go. More than he’d realized.
But if that’s how it came across to her, that he was trying to manage her . . . or even control her . . . hell, he never meant for it to seem like that. He was just trying to help her. He was a guy, he fixed things. That’s what guys did. Or so he thought . . . Jesus, he didn’t know which end was up right then.
Her flushed face, wild eyes, tight words, and need to escape told him several things. She was embarrassed about what had happened the night before with Liam—hell, that was obvious. She probably figured he thought less of her for being involved with someone like that, and for some of the things that had happened in her past, things she’d begrudgingly revealed to him.
More Than You Know Page 20
