Her Perfect Stranger

by Jill Shalvis

  “Okay,” she whispered. “Now.”

  Ziiip. He spread the sweater open, pushing the material from her shoulders to hang from her elbows. Looking down at her, he found even his ragged breathing went still. Everything went still, except his heart, which chose this moment to ache like hell. “You take my breath away, Corrine.”

  She put a hand over the one he’d pressed to his heart. “Mike—”

  “No, I mean it. Look at you.” Reverently, he reached out and touched the tip of one beaded nipple. She let out a sexy, helpless little sound that nearly did him in. “I want to drop to my knees and worship you for…” The rest of my life.

  “Kiss me, Mike.”

  “But…” He wanted to think about this, discuss it.

  “Kiss.” As if she’d read his thoughts and had been equally terrified, she hauled him close. “Just shut up and kiss me.” Making sure he complied, she glued her mouth to his, making love to it with her tongue, sliding in and out in a motion he didn’t even try to resist, and within moments they were clinging to each other. He couldn’t touch enough of her, and when he tried harder, she lifted a leg to his hip, pressing the heat of her to him, gliding over him until his eyes crossed.

  “Okay, we’ve got to get horizontal,” he decided breathlessly. “Before we kill each other.” Tipping her to the bed, he crawled up her body, spreading her legs to make a place for himself between them.

  Corrine pushed her hips up, meeting his erection more than halfway. Somehow her skirt had gotten shoved up to her waist, leaving only the silky barrier of her panties between them, but the friction of that, along with the helpless but insistent thrust of her hips, nearly did him in.

  Nearly. Because while she took his breath, she’d also somehow taken his heart. He wanted to talk, wanted to know what was happening, wanted to know why he suddenly felt as though maybe it was far more than simple, unquenchable heat they were generating right here on this bed. Only she grabbed his ears and pulled his mouth back to hers, keeping it busy while she pumped and rocked her hips against the biggest hard-on he’d ever sported.

  “Now,” she demanded, panting. If she could have heard herself, she’d have been horrified, but she couldn’t hear, couldn’t do anything but feel. Sensation after sensation rocked through her, and she found herself holding on by a thread as his greedy, talented mouth ravaged hers. When they broke apart for air, he slid down her body, opening his lips wide around her nipple, using his tongue and his teeth to exact more dark, needy sounds from her. She watched helplessly as he drove her further toward the edge with just that tongue. Then his big, rough hand worked its way down her belly, beneath the edging of her panties. Lifting his head, he gauged her reaction closely as his finger unerringly located the exact spot designed to drive her to the brink.

  She made some unintelligible sound, which turned into a moan when he lightly feathered it with the pad of his thumb. Her every nerve ending throbbed and pulsed and begged for more, but the fact was, she was out of her league. She had no clue, no road map and no guidance. She was parachuting without a damn parachute. “Wait!”

  “I don’t think so, not now.” He touched and stroked and mastered her, whipping her into a desperate frenzy. Staring down at her, his eyes were dark with desire. “You wanted this.” With the finger that had become the center of her universe, he circled her opening, once, twice, making her cry out and move convulsively against his hand. “Didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” she gasped, thrashing on the bed. “Yes, I wanted this!”

  Galvanized into action, he stripped off his jeans, then made her clothes vanish as well. He ripped open a condom, his gaze devouring her as he put it on. Shamelessly needy, she pulled her knees back, opening herself to him in a way that was utterly foreign to her, but felt so right at the moment.

  His eyes all but gobbled her up. “You are so beautiful. And so mine.” He pushed into her, just a little, just an inch, dragging a whimper of need out of her.

  “More.” She thrust up to meet him.

  “Oh, yeah. More.” He pulled his hips back slightly, and another little whimper shuddered in her throat, but then he thrust again, deeper this time. And then deeper still. And again, until he was so far seated inside her that she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began.

  He held himself still, then, looking down at her as a parade of emotions crossed his face: dazed wonder, harsh need.

  “Mike,” she whispered, feeling all those emotions right back, and he thrust into her harder, deeper, over and over again. Her head fell back. She arched up into him. She was dying. “Mike.”

  “Right here, baby. Come.” He delved a thumb into the wet tangle of curls above where they were joined, stroking as she writhed beneath him. “Come for me.”

  He was watching her. Waiting. Egging on all that sensation inside her until it came to a roaring explosion. She’d never been watched before. It should have stopped her cold, should have left her unable to fall apart, screaming, panting, making an unholy fool of herself as she shuddered and jerked under the assault of ecstasy, but it didn’t.

  And when she could breathe again, she realized she hadn’t been the only one to completely lose herself. He’d collapsed against her, having banded his arms tight around her, holding her to him in a bone-crushing grip.

  Amazingly enough, they fell asleep like that.

  MIKE WOKE with a wide, canary-eating grin and yet another erection. Turning toward Corrine, already thinking about exactly what he intended to do to her, he stopped, shocked into immobility.

  She was gone.

  Again.

  Damn her! And damn him for allowing it. He should have handcuffed her to the headboard. Should have never fallen asleep.

  Should have…should have…should have. The truth was, there was nothing he could do to keep her, nothing at all.

  Unless she wanted to be kept.

  Which she didn’t.

  9

  MIKE WALKED INTO the conference room and Corrine’s heart took off like a rocket. “Good morning,” she said coolly. No one had to know she was on the verge of death by mortification, or that her palms were damp with nerves, just from seeing him again.

  She’d left him blissfully, gloriously naked, fully sated and fast asleep. He’d accuse her of being a chicken, but it hadn’t been fear that made her run; it had simply been time to put aside all personal stuff and get to work.

  Here at work, she couldn’t afford to be thinking of someone else, grieving over what could never be. Concentration was required. Time to put everything else aside and get on with her scheduled team meeting.

  No problem. Putting everything else aside had always come easy for Corrine.

  Until now.

  Mike didn’t answer or return her greeting, didn’t even acknowledge it. He looked tall, dark and royally pissed off, not to mention so beautiful he took her breath away.

  “Um…coffee?” she asked, gesturing toward the pot. The few sips she’d already taken were making her jittery.

  Or maybe that was Mike.

  “No, thanks.”

  She busied herself adding sugar and cream to her coffee, though she preferred it black. But she needed in the worst way to not look at him.

  “Corrine.”

  He was going to want to talk about it. She should have known.

  “Corrine.” His eyes glittered with attitude and knowledge, knowledge that she’d run from him. Which really was proof positive that he could never understand her. His dark hair was still wet from what must have been a very recent shower, one in which he hadn’t shaved, as witnessed by the dark, day-old stubble on his jaw.

  She knew that stubble, knew it intimately, knew how it felt gliding over her skin, the raspy sound it made when he lingered, and the citrusy scent of it.

  “Don’t,” he said in a gruff, almost harsh voice, and she was thankful they were the only ones in the room, because that voice made her blood start singing.

  “Don’t what?” she asked as lightly as she
could.

  “Don’t look at me as if you can’t take your eyes off me, because we both know that’s not true.”

  It was true, but she wasn’t about to admit that. “I’m only looking at you because you’re early. I’m surprised, is all.”

  “I’m early,” he said, stalking toward her with his long-gaited, very confident stride. “Because I woke up early. With a raging hard-on, as a matter of fact.”

  She bit her lip and held her ground, forcing her chin up so she would look fearless. Which she absolutely was. Fearless. Nothing got to her, nothing…except for maybe, just maybe, this man. “I thought all men woke up that way.”

  “Yes, but I woke up expecting to be wrapped around a warm, sleepy woman.” He was nearly upon her now. “One whom I could slowly caress and kiss and taste until she was wide awake and writhing beneath me, making those soft, desperate sounds, which, by the way, are the sexiest I’ve ever heard.”

  “Mike—”

  “And then when I had her that way,” he continued in a soft, silky voice, “I was going to slowly sink inside her, one inch at a time, until—”

  “Stop,” she whispered desperately, weakly, glancing at the open doorway. But no one else had arrived yet. She was shaking, damp from perspiration, just at his words!

  Did she really sound soft and desperate when he was buried deep inside her?

  And did he really think she was sexy? No one had ever told her such things. No one had ever even thought them of her, she was quite certain. “We can’t do this here.”

  “Oh, yes, we can.” His eyes were flashing, and despite his unbearably sensuous words and soft tone, his mouth was grim. “We can do this here, because you’re not going to let me do it anywhere else. I might be a little slow on the uptake, Corrine, but I’m not stupid.”

  No, no he wasn’t. And he really was furious. She supposed he had a right, but she had a right, too. And damn it, hadn’t she told him nothing could come of this…this thing between them? It wasn’t as if she’d led him on, or purposely set out to hurt anyone’s feelings. Besides, if anyone was going to get hurt here, it was going to be her. Because she couldn’t fool herself any longer; he was magnificent. And he wouldn’t stay single for long. Some other woman would come along and snag him.

  But she…she would forever pine over what might have been. “I realize you’re upset—”

  “Upset,” he repeated in a quiet, reasonable voice. He even nodded. But he didn’t stop coming toward her. “Yes, you’re right about that, Corrine. I’m upset.”

  “I know.” Not allowing herself to back up, she reached behind her and gripped the conference table for support. “I do know. But—”

  “No, I don’t think you do.” He stopped a breath away from her, so close she had to tip her head back to see into his face, but no way was she going to retreat.

  She retreated for no one.

  “I’m beginning to realize you know nothing about me or my feelings,” he said. “Nothing at all. In fact…” He tipped his head and studied her for a long, squirmy moment. “Maybe you really are the Ice Queen everyone says you are.”

  She couldn’t even open her mouth, his words cut such a deep wound. Her hand came up to rub at the sudden ache in her chest and she was half surprised to find no sign of blood. “You…you think I’m an Ice Queen.”

  “Look me in the eyes and tell me you’re not. Tell me you’re not frozen to the emotions running wild within me. Do it,” he begged softly, reaching out, trying to make her look at him. But she was done. Done with this, and done with him, because damn it, he didn’t understand at all, and she wasn’t about to try to make him.

  Not when all her life she’d had to explain herself, except with her family. They’d always accepted her just as she was, and she’d always believed that someday, somewhere, she’d find that same acceptance elsewhere. And when she did, she’d always promised herself, that would be the man she’d marry.

  It had never happened, not yet anyway, and she was beginning to believe it never would. Another bitter disappointment, knowing love, true love, always eluded her.

  “Corrine.”

  His voice was so soft, so urgent, so utterly gripping. She lifted her head, but Stephen entered the room just then, followed by Frank.

  “Ready to rock and roll?” Frank asked, rubbing his hands together with glee. Nothing made Frank happier than a SIM, which was what they were going to be doing directly after their team meeting.

  “Let’s get to it,” Stephen said, the two of them oblivious to the tension in the room.

  Jimmy came in next, his eyes suddenly measured and assessing as he looked back and forth between the commander and pilot. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” Corrine said quickly. Too quickly, damn it. She felt herself starting to crumble. They could see something, some crack in her control, and she knew it would be beyond awful if she didn’t get it together right here, right now. “We’re just getting ready for the meeting, going over some notes.”

  Jimmy’s eyebrows came together as he studied her. And now Frank and Stephen were more closely assessing her as well.

  “Did we miss something?”

  “Yeah. The doughnuts,” Mike said, shocking Corrine with his rescue, especially since she’d jumped all over him the last time he’d done that.

  “There were doughnuts and you ate them all?” Stephen sighed. “You owe me, Wright.”

  “Two kinds of people on this team,” Mike said, still looking at Corrine. “The quick and the hungry.”

  Frank laughed. “Well, color me hungry then.”

  “Damn,” Jimmy said, pulling out a chair.

  Stephen waggled a finger beneath Mike’s nose. “You’re buying lunch, pal. With dessert.”

  Corrine managed a smile as she grabbed her clipboard. “Lunch is on me. We’ll be needing to calorie up for this afternoon’s SIM.”

  Among the pretend groans and eye rolling, she dared a glance at Mike. He looked back at her steadily, and utterly without expression.

  Not once since they’d first met had the heat and even basic affection been gone from his gaze. Not once.

  It was gone now. Good. Just as she’d wanted.

  But her throat burned and her chest felt tight as a drum. And for the first time, she had to wonder what she’d sacrificed in the name of success and her job.

  FOR THE NEXT MONTH Corrine didn’t have time to so much as breathe, nor did anyone else associated with the mission.

  Still, Mike was everywhere—in her SIM, in her meetings, at her side…and in her dreams.

  At work they did nothing but simulation after simulation. Everything from this point on would be a run-through of the upcoming mission, only a month away now. Everything they did, they did as a team.

  So she was constantly with Mike.

  Her frozen heart, along with all its complicated, newly defrosted emotions, left her with no defenses. During one particularly grueling afternoon, when things weren’t going right, her first instinct was to bark out orders and get the team back on track. But two words stopped her.

  Ice Queen.

  Walking the length of the hangar, consulting her clipboard and trying to smooth out a dozen things at once, she happened to catch sight of herself, reflected in a shiny control panel.

  Her hair was clipped back, not a strand out of place. She wore little makeup and no smile, making her appear…stern.

  The Ice Queen.

  Around her was controlled chaos as her team prepared for yet another simulated flight, but she went stock-still. Was she really as stern as she looked? She didn’t want to think so. She was as fun-loving and full of joy as anyone else.

  So why did she look so hard? Pulling her lips back, she attempted a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Standing there, she tried to think of something funny, something that would evoke a genuine smile. Leaning closer to her reflection, she racked her brain and—

  “Need a mirror, Commander?”

  The half-ass smile f
roze in place. Moving her eyes from her reflection to the one that had appeared right next to her, she groaned.

  Mike, of course.

  “What are you doing?” She straightened up as if she hadn’t just been practicing ridiculous smiles at herself in the reflective panel of a space shuttle.

  “Watching you watch yourself.” He leaned back, making himself comfortable. He was always comfortable, damn him. “That’s some smile you’ve got there, Commander.”

  “Why do you keep calling me that?”

  “Because that’s what you are, remember? My commander. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  Well. Her own doing, that, so there was no reason to get her feelings hurt.

  “You ought to try using it more.” For just a moment, his eyes roamed over her face like a sweet touch, before he caught himself and looked away. “The smile, that is.”

  She’d used her smile plenty with him, mostly in bed. At that thought, she bent down, pretending to study a panel, but it was merely an excuse to gather herself. Yet the facade she wore like a coat wouldn’t work this time, because it would only prove his point.

  Oh hell, why did she even care? She didn’t. She’d just have to be the woman she always was, and if he chose to misunderstand, then so much the better. It would remind her of her own foolishness.

  While she was hunkered down, contemplating all this, a hand appeared in front of her face. Mike’s hand. She stared at those reaching fingers. With any other man, she’d have taken the gesture as an insult, because she could get up herself and always had. But with Mike, she knew it had nothing at all to do with her capabilities, or his perception of them. He was simply being a gentleman.

  Which meant she was a lady, at least in his eyes. Well, she’d been a lady and more with him, hadn’t she?

  Silently she took his hand and rose. Together they joined the team on the other side of the hangar, and all moved into place for their SIM.

  For this particular exercise—simulating the landing at the space station, the “parking” and the subsequent unloading—Mike and she had to sit side by side in a relatively small space, with little natural light, mostly just the blue-green glare from the glowing controls. Even the air felt constricted, creating an intimate ambience that was almost too much to take.