by Lori Foster
And the stupid phone call had unsettled her more than she liked. She realized whoever it was must have gotten close enough to the shop to see her, because anytime she'd been outside and visible, she'd been wearing her coat. How could he possibly have known about the vultures on her sweatshirt? It made her uneasy.
The temperature dropped rapidly. Forecasters predicted a low of ten degrees, and that wasn't taking into account the windchill factor. Shadow turned the heater up a notch and squeezed her arms close to her body. It was bitterly cold, no two ways about it.
Distracted, she watched the houses to her left as she passed Brent's place, trying to determine, out of sheer curiosity and nosiness, if he was home. She almost ran the red light, but the roads were pretty much deserted, so it really wouldn't have mattered. Still, habit had her hitting the brakes and going into a full slide.
Right off the road and into the ditch.
The car rocked to a halt against a snowbank and Shadow slammed her hand onto the steering wheel in a fit of anger. "My luck can't be this bad!"
She made an effort to rock the car out, but it was good and stuck, and probably would be until she hired a tow truck to drag her out.
Going over her options took all of about three seconds. Her house was still a good walking distance away, while Brent's was right there, once you trod the long drive to the front door. Pride had its place, but compared with freezing, it was less than nothing.
Snowflakes as big as cotton balls covered her head the minute she stepped from the car. The snow was already so deep her ankles disappeared in the frozen drifts. Tucking her hands into her pockets, Shadow lowered her face to protect it from the force of the gusting wind and headed for Brent's driveway.
The chattering of her teeth should have announced her arrival. When it obviously didn't, Shadow lifted one snow-covered foot and kicked the door soundly. No way was she going to remove her hands from the dubious warmth of her pockets simply to give a polite knock.
But she was worried. The house was dark, not a single light on that she could tell. Whatever would she do if Brent wasn't home? If she could be certain he didn't have an alarm system himself, she would gladly break in. But then it wasn't necessary. Brent opened the door a moment later, a dim flashlight in his hand. He looked as if he'd been deep in thought, his face a shadowy mask of fatigue. Or was that worry?
Grabbing her arm, Brent pulled her in the door, then slammed it shut. He began brushing snow from her head, her shoulders. "Where the hell have you been?"
Shadow blinked, trying to stop her shivers, but unable to. Brent cursed, then dragged her into his arms, squeezing her tight for just a moment before taking her hand and hurrying her through his house and into the family room.
It was immense, filled with posh leather furnishings and highly polished, heavy wood tables. An elaborate marble fireplace dominated an entire wall and in it was a huge, raging fire, the heat emanating in waves.
Brent dragged a wing chair near the blaze and gently pushed Shadow into it. Dropping to his knees before her, he began removing her wet shoes and socks.
"Are you nuts, Shadow? What the hell are you doing out in this storm? I thought you were staying home. I've been calling your house since the storm started."
Through chattering teeth, she said, "I was upset. I needed something to do other than sitting around the house moping. So I went in to work."
Brent held her frozen toes in his palms, trying to warm her. "You were upset?"
Nodding, Shadow answered truthfully. "I don't like being mad at you, Brent."
Brent looked at her for a long moment, then stood. "Take off those jeans. They're wet clear up to your knees. I'm going to get you a drink and a blanket."
Shadow did as he bade her, mostly because the wet pants were uncomfortably cold. She had her bare feet stretched out toward the fire, wiggling her toes to warm them, when Brent returned. He handed her a glass of whiskey, which she promptly set aside, then she watched, fascinated as he spread a large quilt before the fire and laid another at the bottom of it.
"Co me on, sit here where you can feel the fire."
"Brent, why is it so dark in here?"
"The electricity is out on the whole street. A result of the storm. And unfortunately, the heating was all redone with the remodeling. I now have electric heat, which means the house is going to cool off considerably as the night goes on."
Shadow had no sooner stood than Brent began pulling off her coat. "This is wet, too. You'll feel better without it."
She blushed when Brent's gaze went to her shirt and stayed there a long moment. Finally, he smiled.
"I was thinking of you," she explained, "when I changed to go to work this morning."
Two vultures adorned the front of her shirt. Sitting on a barren branch, their expressions sullen, one said, "Patience, hell. I'm gonna kill somebody." Brent chuckled even as he lowered Shadow to the quilt, then tucked the extra blanket around her. "I hope it wasn't my death you were anticipating."
His soft, husky words sent a tingle down her spine. "No. My impatience for something else entirely." She smiled up into his green eyes, the reflection of the fire sending mysterious shadows to dance in them. "Brent, why didn't you tell me you owned my building?"
He leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I knew that would disqualify me from your little contest and at first I wanted to use the contest as an excuse to get to know you better. And then I suppose I was … concerned that you might treat me differently if you knew you were leasing from me. Personal finances have a way of influencing how people treat each other."
Incredulous, Shadow demanded, "You thought I might cozy up to you just because you hold my lease?"
He gently tucked an errant curl behind her ear. Her hair was damp from her walk in the snow, her cheeks and nose still very cold. "I know now that you wouldn't."
"But you think I would deliberately lead you on, then pull back before making love to you?"
He sighed. "I was mad, Shadow. I didn't mean half of what I said, and I almost immediately regretted saying it." He flopped onto his back beside her and closed his eyes. He wore a T-shirt, even as cool as the house was, and Shadow could see the definition of his chest, his strength and power. The shirt stretched taut over his broad shoulders. "You're tearing me apart, honey. I've never felt so damn on edge before."
With her heartbeat racing and her body quickly warming, Shadow moved so she loomed over him. "I think I'm in love with you, Brent."
That got his eyes open in a hurry. Before he could speak, Shadow laid her fingers against his mouth. "Just listen. If I sometimes seem contrary, or like I'm giving off mixed signals, you should realize I'm a little confused, too. It's been an awfully long time since anyone made me feel the way you do. In fact, I don't think I've ever felt this way. And I've only just decided I might like it. So," she said, laying her heart on the line, "would you like to make love with me, Brent? Now?"
Brent's answer was a low groan and a sudden movement of his body that had Shadow flat on her back, the blankets shoved aside and the warmth of his hands and mouth touching her everywhere. He'd never been like this before, wild and frenzied. Usually he was so methodical and thorough in his lovemaking, but now he was ravenous. Shadow grinned at that thought, but it fit. Brent seemed intent on devouring her, quickly, before she could change her mind.
As if she would?
Certainly not, not when it was so wonderful. The cool air didn't faze her when her shirt was thrown aside, and she was instantly imbued with heat at the touch of his tongue on her nipple, the nip of his teeth. He reared back and jerked his shirt over his head, tossing it away. With shaking, fumbling fingers, he worked the snap and zipper on his jeans. Shadow reached out, cupping her hand beneath his testicles, holding him gently, and his breath hissed out while his eyes squeezed shut.
"I've waited too long," he muttered through his teeth, then pushed her hand away and shoved his pants down. Shadow wanted to touch him, to measure him
with her fingers and stroke him and explore him, but he didn't give her a chance.
He stripped her panties from her body, then positioned himself between her thighs. For a long moment he knelt there, frozen, looking at her, his hands on her thighs holding her open. His chest labored; his nostrils flared. "No matter what," he said, "this time we finish things. I don't give a damn if the house burns down."
"Yes." Shadow reached for him, but he caught her hands and held them near her chest. With his free hand, he stroked her, just riffling his fingers through her curls, teasing her.
He glanced at her face. "You like that?"
"Brent…" She liked it so much, she couldn't take it. "Make love to me."
"I am." His fingers went deep, easing inside her body, stretching her. He used his thumb to stroke her clitoris until her hips were lifting and she could do no more than gasp.
He released her hands so he could feel her breasts, and Shadow used the moment to clutch at him, to try to drag him down to her. "Here," he said, rubbing her left nipple between finger and thumb, "and here." His other thumb teased between her thighs. "These are the two most sensitive places on your body."
The rough pad of his thumb tormented her, rasping her delicate, swollen flesh while two of his long fingers stayed pressed deep inside her. He leaned down, slowly, adding to her tension, heightening her anticipation, and licked her nipple. "I love how soft and warm you feel in my mouth." His gaze heated, locked on to hers. "Here," he whispered, "and here."
Her body arched, the orgasm taking her by surprise. Brent stayed close, watching her, breathing hard while whispering encouragement.
The pleasure finally ebbed and Brent came up and over her, holding himself away on stiffened arms. She saw that he was desperately trying to get himself under control.
She didn't want control. She wanted him wild and eager, as eager as she herself had been. She said, only half teasing, "Don't make me get rough with you, Brent. Enough is enough. I want you now. This minute."
The sound he made was part laugh, part groan, but there was no indecision in his actions. He snagged his slacks, retrieved his wallet and located a condom. He held it up for her to see. "I've been hopeful," he said, giving her a heated look as he rolled it on, letting Shadow watch in fascination.
Holding her knees apart, he lowered himself between her thighs, his gaze never leaving hers. Then slowly, with one long thrust, he pushed into her body.
Shadow was enthralled. Even though it was difficult accommodating his size, nothing had ever felt so right. Without even thinking, she wrapped her legs around his hips and held him tight. Brent tipped his head back, squeezed his eyes shut. The cords of his neck were drawn taut, his shoulders rigid. His chest heaved, but he held perfectly still and Shadow instinctively knew he was fighting to keep it from ending too soon.
"I've just made up my mind," she whispered. "I love you, Brent. I really do."
His arms collapsed, his face coming down beside hers, a loud groan sounding in her ear. And then he was thrusting heavily into her. The friction was exquisite, the unbelievable feelings rapidly building again. Shadow wrapped her arms around him and held on.
He pounded into her and a moment later she climaxed. Even through her own pleasure, Shadow heard the sounds of Brent exploding with her, his moans low and guttural and real. It pleased her and she told him again, louder this time, that she loved him.
It was sometime later when the uncomfortable coolness of the room forced them to move. Shadow was beginning to shiver now that her body was no longer heated, was instead languid and relaxed and nearly asleep. Brent raised himself to his elbows to look down at her. There was an unfathomable intensity in his gaze, but he kissed her gently on her parted lips, then rolled to the side.
Shadow immediately followed, curling against him for his warmth. He obligingly put his arm beneath her, tugging her close, then kicked and shuffled until he reached the blanket and could pull it over them both.
Shadow asked, "Are we going to sleep here?"
Brent didn't answer her at first, then he asked, "Do you want to? It's too cold for you to try to go home. And this will be the warmest room in the house."
After yawning, Shadow explained, "I couldn't go home now, anyway. My car is in the ditch. That's why I ended up here in the first place."
Brent went curiously still, then repeated, "Your car is in a ditch?"
Nodding, Shadow said, "I was on my way home from work, tried to stop at a red light and slid right off the road."
"How far away?"
She didn't understand the suspicion in his tone, but was too tired to worry about it anyway. "Nearly in front of your house, actually."
Brent twisted around to face her. "Tomorrow, we're really going to find your car in a ditch?"
Shadow frowned at him. "Unless someone steals it tonight. But in this storm, I think that's unlikely."
Brent scowled in thought, but his hand idly, almost automatically stroked Shadow's hip. Staring down at the top of her breasts, he said, "You know, Shadow, you didn't need an excuse to come by. I want us to be at ease with each other. If you wanted to apologize, you could have just called and not gone out in this weather."
Eyes narrowing slightly, Shadow asked, "Apologize? I didn't apologize, Brent. And I wasn't looking for an excuse to come by." Enunciating carefully, as if he were dim-witted, Shadow explained, "I was on my way home from work. Granted, I was looking over at your house as I passed, which is probably why I didn't see the red light right off, but I didn't land my car—a car I love—in a ditch, just to have a reason to come by. In fact," she added as he started to speak, "I wouldn't have come here if I could have made it home in this storm."
"Shadow…" He faltered at her antagonistic look, but then blundered on. "Honey, I'm glad you're here. Really. But I'd rather you just admit—"
Shadow sat up to glare at him. The blanket fell over her lap and covered most of her legs, bent beneath her. He didn't say another word, his eyes glued to her exposed breasts and belly. He reached out to touch her, his eyes going all smoky again. Shadow didn't move, but she did say, "Please, Brent. Finish enlightening me on what I ought to admit."
He caught her arms and pulled her down to his chest. "Admit you love me. Again."
Startled, Shadow said, "That wasn't what you were going to say."
"No, but neither am I going to get into another argument with you. Unbelievable coincidences happen all the time, and besides that, at the moment, I don't care how it is you came to be here. I'm just glad you did."
Well, put like that, how could she stay mad? She'd convince him in the morning that she hadn't fabricated a reason to see him. Right now, he had his large hands spread over her backside, holding her close to his rapidly hardening body. Arguing with Brent was invigorating, but making love with him most definitely had it beat.
* * *
He'd never imagined sleeping on a floor could be so relaxing. For the first time in weeks, he felt replete, all his tension—mostly sexual—melted away. He'd awakened several times during the night, but not because of the hard floor. Shadow's softness, her enticing scent, had interrupted his sleep. She was finally with him, beside him, in his house. He took incredible satisfaction in having her here and he couldn't keep himself from reaching for her again and again. He'd never enjoyed a sleepless night more. He'd never enjoyed a woman more.
Even now her hair tickled his chin and one small hand lay open over his heart. More than that, her silky thigh rested on his lap, making his erection twitch with her every breath. That same incredible need of the night before rushed through him, but he didn't move, content to simply lie back and enjoy her, having her near, feeling her warm breath brushing his skin.
When Shadow finally awoke, she did so loudly, a rough, heartfelt groan emerging as she stretched her body against his. With each muscle she moved, she moaned anew, and Brent suffered a twinge of pity for her. He had been rather relentless last night; but then, so had she.
Suddenly s
he went very still. Cautiously, slowly, she raised herself on one elbow. Brent pretended to be asleep. He could feel her peering down at him, knew her eyes were wide, her breath held. He was hard-pressed not to smile. When her hand touched him, gently inquisitive, he barely resisted the urge to cover her again. She explored him with a tentative curiosity that had his muscles tightening in anticipation.
Sitting up more fully, Shadow inadvertently pulled the covers from Brent's lower body. At least he thought it had been an accident. But when she made no move to rectify the situation, Brent had to assume her gaze was somewhere south of his abdomen. He could picture her, the intensity of her expression, and suddenly it wasn't enough. He peeked at her, and sure enough, she was studying his hard-on. Closely.
Leaning forward, her beautiful, heavy breasts very near his ribs, she scrutinized him. His hands were already above his head, a typical sleeping position for Brent. But now he locked his fingers together, fighting the urge to return her interest.
He heard a small chuckle and Shadow said, "Quit playing possum, Brent. I know you're awake."
Looking at her lazily, he smiled. "I didn't want to inhibit your … explorations."
He felt her fingers curl warmly around him, bolder now, but he kept his eyes on her face, watching her watch the movement of her hand. It was innocently erotic. It made him insane.
"You don't mind that I'm curious?"
"Not at all." His words sounded like a croak. Out of self-preservation, Brent closed his eyes again, but that only heightened his awareness of her fingers stroking him, her warm breath on his belly. He jumped when she began talking again.
"I liked what you did last night. Where you kissed me."
His entire being clenched with the memory of her sweet taste, her spicy scent. "I liked it, too."
"Would you … like it if I kissed you?"
