She wrenched open the door and came to a halt on the threshold, glaring out into the dark shadows. What did she want tonight? Surely she could not take the risk of letting this man make love to her again. Where was her common sense? Where was the rational, logical side of her nature when she needed it?
“Ryder, I can’t stay tonight,” she began tightly, whirling to face him. “But about last night. I want you to know…oh!”
When she swung around on the threshold, he was right behind her. She hadn’t heard the step that brought him so close, but when she turned he was there and his arms came around her as she collided with the hard, compelling planes of his chest. Wordlessly she stood in the circle of his embrace, eyes very wide and questioning as she looked up into his taut features. She saw the hungry longing in him and couldn’t move.
“Last night,” he said very gently, “was perfect. Tonight will be perfect, too.”
He swung her off her feet and into his arms. Turning, he kicked the door closed behind them and carried Brenna back toward the warmth of the fire.
Chapter 7
Ryder lowered himself to the sofa with Brenna across his thighs. For a long moment he simply cradled her close. She nestled her head against his shoulder, aware of his lips hovering near her hair. He wanted her. She could feel the power of the hunger in him and knew the surge of desire in herself. It was easy, far too easy, to simply suspend all thought and give herself up to the night and the man who held her.
“Well, lady?” he prodded with carefully controlled urgency. “Do I get my invitation?”
“I thought you were inviting yourself.” She lifted her lashes and raised a fingertip to toy with the curl of tawny hair on his neck.
“You’ll have to say the words. I don’t want there to be any question in your mind.”
“About who is seducing whom?” she mocked softly.
“Exactly.”
She felt the tension within and sought for a way out. “Ryder, I don’t want the responsibility tonight. All day long I have been avoiding decisions about the important things in my life, and I don’t want to make any decisions tonight. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” he surprised her by saying. “You want me to make this particular decision. You want me to assume the responsibility for both of us.”
She flinched. “That makes me very weak, doesn’t it?”
“It makes you very vulnerable.” He smiled crookedly, threading a hand through the dark chocolate of her hair and loosening the strands. “Are you sure you’re ready to trust me to make the right choice? You must know I’m already convinced we belong together tonight.”
“Don’t talk to me about it,” she cried softly. “I don’t want to think about all the rational implications!”
“All right, sweet lady,” he crooned, feathering her ear with his tongue. “Just remember in the morning that you turned all the responsibility over to me tonight.”
Brenna didn’t say anything; she couldn’t. She relaxed against him with a small sigh of desire as the caress on her ear became damp and warm and teasing. Yes, it was much easier this way. She luxuriated in the sensation of being safe and warm and wanted.
Abandoning herself to the enthralling illusion being spun around her, Brenna moved her palm lovingly down Ryder’s cheek to his throat. There she found the first of the buttons on his shirt and set about unfastening them. His breath fanned her ear and his hand slid up from her waist to seek out the shape of her breast.
“Ryder,” she said on a long sigh as his thumb and forefinger coaxed forth the tight bud of her nipple beneath the fabric of her shirt. “Oh, Ryder…”
“You feel so right, so good in my hands,” he whispered huskily as he undid the buttons of her shirt and moved his hand inside to cup the breast he had been teasing. “Thank you, sweet lady, for turning the decisions over to me tonight. You won’t regret it.”
Brenna, who didn’t understand exactly what he was talking about, ignored the words and moved her lips tenderly to his throat as he traced patterns of desire across her breasts. She stirred as the delicious sensual tension began to build inside her and gloried in the evidence of his own rising passion.
When her fingers fluttered lightly down his chest, twining and untwining in the crisp, curling hair, he groaned urgently at the touch. The sound, uttered deep in his throat, emboldened her. She let her delicate fingertips wander lower until they settled lightly on the blatant male hardness covered by the fabric of his jeans.
“You see what you do to me?” he complained ruefully. “It’s not easy for a man to be subtle when he wants a woman as badly as I want you!”
Brenna thrilled to the confession, experiencing a feminine power that was reflected in her amber eyes. Ryder saw it at once and laughed a little as he gathered her closer. “Witch,” he growled. “Just remember you’ve turned all the authority over to me this evening!”
She smiled invitingly and lifted her mouth for his kiss. He obliged at once, his tongue surging hungrily between her lips. Slowly he lowered her down onto the cushions of the sofa, pressing her deep with his weight until she was thoroughly trapped. Her arms encircled his neck as he pushed aside her shirt and crushed her breasts against his chest.
Ryder built the fires in her with an insistent, persuasive rhythm that made it seem the most natural thing in the world for Brenna to surrender. She arched her hips upward into his as he lifted himself momentarily to slip off her shirt and his own.
Instead of coming back down on top of her at once, he boldly put his palm flat against the feminine mound still hidden by her jeans. His eyes met her heavy-lidded gaze as he waited for a moment, feeling her warmth. The touch was possessive to an incredible degree and the look in his eyes challenged her to acknowledge that possession.
“Tell me you want me, lady,” he commanded with utmost gentleness.
“I want you, Ryder.” The words were forced out from between dry lips and she automatically put the tip of her tongue to those lips after she had spoken.
“You take away my breath, lady.”
Slowly he undressed her under the flickering warmth of the firelight, and when she lay naked and bathed in gold before his gaze, he stood up long enough to tug off the black jeans he wore. Then he knelt beside the couch and ran his fingers from her throat to her ankles as she lay open to his touch.
Brenna’s heated eyes wandered hungrily over the hard, sleek shape of him as he knelt beside her in the firelight. His tawny hair caught the flames, and the muscled contours of his shoulders drew her fingers. When she turned toward him convulsively, Ryder’s hand on her thigh moved up along the delicate inside skin and probed the dark mystery between her legs.
“Oh!” The bold touch brought a gasping cry to her lips and she squeezed her lashes closed in response. Ryder leaned closer to kiss the tips of her aching breasts and she clutched at him, a tremor singing through her.
“Come here, sweet lady. I want to feel you all over me,” he groaned and pulled her down on top of him as he lay back against the rug. Brenna sprawled across him in a tangle of silky skin and unbound hair.
Feeling marvelously pagan and excitingly wild, she began to do as he bid, scattering tiny, nipping kisses across his shoulders and down the hardness of his thighs. She reveled in his response, taking a primitive delight in seeing how far she could excite him before he lost his control. It was a game she had never played before and the danger implicit in it only acted as a lure.
He caught her head, his fingers winding tightly in her hair, and held her still for a moment so that he could drink from her lips. Then he released her once more and let her continue showering the tasting, impulse-driven kisses across his body.
When she rose briefly on her knees beside him, bending low to find the flat, masculine nipples with her mouth, he lifted his hand to trace the line of her spine down to the sensitive base. When she arched instinctively at the caress, he trailed his fingers further, sliding them erotically down her buttocks to the dampeni
ng warmth below.
“Oh, my God, Ryder,” Brenna breathed, collapsing against him in an agony of passionate need. Her kisses became a little desperate as she reached out for him.
“Come and take me, sweet lady. Come and take me.”
Catching her hips, he guided her astride him, fitting her body to his with urgency. Brenna gasped at the uncompromising invasion of the throbbing heart of her passion. His fingers clenched deeply into her buttocks as he held her tightly and began to thrust upward with a surging power. She buried her lips in the curve of his shoulder and gave herself up to the wonder of the moment.
The sensual pace quickened and intensified until Brenna was moaning helplessly over and over again. Her nails raked unconsciously along the strong shoulders beneath her, and when she gave in to the impulse to sink her teeth lightly into his flesh, Ryder grunted.
Then, quite abruptly, she was on her back, the intimate connection of their bodies never broken in the process. With a muttered exclamation of need, Ryder surged against her, wrapping her to him until she felt utterly consumed. It became impossible to tell where the heat of her desire stopped and the heat of Ryder’s body began.
As the passion flared higher between them Brenna could only cling and cling and go on clinging to the one rock-hard reality in her private universe. Ryder seemed to lose himself in her even as he demanded everything from her, and when the shattering culmination took them both, their husky cries of satisfaction mingled together.
In the aftermath of their sensual battle Brenna lay curled into Ryder’s body, his hair-roughened thigh trapping her smooth one, his palm moving lazily along the curve of her hip. When he spoke, his mouth was close to her tangled hair.
“You’re so incredibly responsive,” he murmured wonderingly. “You seem to go up in flames in my arms. It’s enough to make me want to keep you under lock and key. I couldn’t bear to have another man so much as touch you now that you’re mine, lady. I’ve never felt so…so…”
“Possessive?” Brenna supplied with a smile as she pulled back a little to look at him. “Chauvinistic? Demanding? Irrationally jealous?”
“You take the words right out of my mouth,” he drawled on a note of dangerous humor as he dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Take heed, lady, I shall be a very possessive, chauvinistic, demanding, and jealous lover.”
“Your basic technique must be pretty good in spite of all those drawbacks,” she retorted saucily, adding in a little rush as his silver eyes narrowed, “Because I’ve certainly never known what it feels like to go up in flames before.”
“Brenna!”
He pulled her close, stroking the smooth contour of her back down to her waist. It was a moment of great tenderness, not passion, and Brenna found it captivating. She nestled against him, delighting in him. Together they lay watching the flickering flames on the hearth die.
A long time later Ryder got to his feet and led Brenna down the hall to his bedroom
“I should have just kept you here that first night when you climbed through my window,” he said as he tucked her in beside him and found the tip of her breast with his fingers. “Much simpler.”
But the next morning Brenna awoke with the feeling that things weren’t going to be simple at all. She lay for a moment beside Ryder thinking of all the realities she had postponed facing the day before and wondered where to start. Slowly she turned her head to look at him, taking a subtle pleasure in the harshly carved planes of his face and the sprawled grace of his body.
He had seduced her yesterday, she thought wonderingly. But it was a seduction she would never be able to hold against him, for in his arms she had found a depth of feeling she wouldn’t have guessed existed. With all her heart she was glad she had given him the invitation he had wanted last night.
But now morning had arrived and with it a return to the problems that needed solutions.
The tawny lashes shifted on the high ridge of his cheek as Ryder came awake and opened his eyes to meet her gaze. Without a word he put out a hand and dragged her face lazily down to his for a lingering kiss.
“Lady, you look very good here in my bed.”
Dear God, Brenna thought as everything began to click into place at the sight of his contented, indulgent grin. I’m falling in love with the man. And it’s all wrong. He’s not the right one at all. He can’t be!
“You wouldn’t look so bad, yourself, if you could wipe that expression of smug, male satisfaction off your face,” she tried to say lightly as she pulled free of him to sit up on the edge of the bed.
“Can you blame me for appearing a little relieved this morning now that I know I won’t have to beg for invitations to your bed in the future?” He reached behind him and adjusted the pillows so that he could sit up against them. The silver eyes watched her with possessive pleasure as Brenna, clutching the sheet to her throat, turned to look at him.
Why did it have to be this man? Why couldn’t it have been someone like Damon? Someone from her own world? Ryder Sterne was so different from everything she had known all her life…
“A gentleman always waits for an invitation, Ryder,” she told him deliberately.
“Not after the lady has turned over the responsibility to him,” he corrected with a knowing chuckle. “Last night you did exactly that, Brenna Llewellyn.”
“For one night!”
“Forever.”
She blinked, taken aback by the conviction in his tone. Try to keep it light, Brenna. She repeated the instructions over and over to herself. You must keep things light. There must be ways of handling this kind of an affair. Heaven help her! She needed time to think. She had to sort out the alarming mixture of her emotions for this man. Perhaps once she was free of the devastating intimacy of his bedroom, she would be able to think properly.
“Aren’t you presuming a great deal on the basis of what happened last night?” she tried to say repressively.
“And the night before,” he added helpfully. “Don’t forget what happened the night before, either. Yes, I guess you could say I’m presuming.” He reached out and snagged her wrist, yanking her down on top of him in a soft tumble. A silver devil laughed at her from the depths of his eyes, but there was tender possession in the touch of his hands as he smoothed her nakedness. “I’m presuming that I’m going to be the only man in your life, sweet lady. I’m presuming that you have given yourself to me and I’m presuming that you can’t take back the rights you handed over last night when you turned over the responsibility for what happened to me.”
“That’s a hell of a lot of presumption!” she pointed out carefully as he cradled her forcefully in the crook of his arm.
“What are you going to do about it?” he provoked, refusing to appear the least concerned by her mood. “Allow me to point out that I’m bigger than you are.”
He was only teasing her, Brenna told herself firmly, taking a short rein on her temper. She might be nervous and on edge because of the implications of the last two nights, but there was no need to lose her self-control just because he was in a playful mood. The intelligent way of handling this was to respond in kind. She must be cool and at ease with the situation until she could escape to think it over properly.
“Size is not always an asset,” she noted demurely. “It didn’t do the dinosaurs much good.”
“A poor analogy. The dinosaurs didn’t combine brain with brawn the way I do,” he declared immodestly. He swept back the sheet, sliding his legs over the edge of the bed and getting to his feet. He stood grinning down at her, his hands on his lean hips for a moment. “Guess which of us is going to win in a one-on-one confrontation. All your fine philosophy isn’t going to do you a bit of good in a situation like this!”
Before she could divine his intention, Ryder was reaching down to scoop her up and toss her lightly over his broad shoulder.
“Ryder! What the devil do you think you’re doing? Put me down!” But she was laughing in spite of herself. The mood of boyish bravado and pla
yfulness in him was difficult to withstand this morning. And she was falling in love with the man.
“I’m going to teach you how to scrub my back,” he announced, spinning around to stride toward the bathroom. “I’ve always wanted my own personal back scrubber.”
“A private fantasy of yours?” she demanded caustically. Deliberately she dug her nails into his side.
“Ouch!” he yelped and promptly retaliated by slapping her vulnerable, bare rear. “Damn right it’s a private fantasy. Very private.” He walked into the bath and turned on the shower, stepping into the stall itself with Brenna still draped over his shoulder.
“This is ridiculous,” she groaned.
“Start scrubbing.”
It was an hour before Brenna was finally able to free herself of the exuberant mood Ryder was indulging, and then it was only because she demanded an opportunity to go back to her cabin to put on some fresh clothes.
“If you’ll settle down and promise to stop picking me up and bouncing me around as if I were a toy, I might even make you some breakfast,” she volunteered before she could stop herself. The thought of making his breakfast was strangely pleasing. And he certainly had fed her enough lately.
“It’s a deal,” he agreed, sending her on her way with an affectionate pat on her derriere. With a last, wary glance over her shoulder, Brenna escaped.
But being alone for a while with her own thoughts did not prove to be the steadying, rational time Brenna had assumed it would be. She padded barefoot around her kitchen making pancakes from scratch and heating syrup and tried to think through the crisis in her life.
It wasn’t fair that everything traumatic should be happening to her at once: her career at a crucial point; her love life dominated by someone who was not at all as she had secretly imagined the man of her dreams would be. It was just too much!
What was she going to do? She added the buttermilk to the pancake batter and told herself that as far as her career was concerned, she had to decide on a logical course of action that would also satisfy her own inner sense of honor and integrity. In some ways that crisis was going to be the easier one to deal with. But what did one do about falling in love with a man like Ryder Sterne? A man who, in his own words, found love a sloppy and sentimental emotion. A summer affair? She bit her lip in a rush of pain. It was difficult to think in such terms when one hovered on the brink of love…
Affair of Honor Page 11
