The smooth cool spread welcomed her weight and she longed for the hardness of his body on top of hers. When it didn’t come, she looked at him and saw what she had feared. Doubt had replaced the hunger in his eyes.
No, don’t think! she wanted to shout. Hoping to throw him off balance, she took off his glasses and tossed them aside. He started to protest, but she placed both hands on the sides of his head and brought his mouth down to hers.
He responded with gratifying speed as passion exploded. His long fingers attacked the buttons down the front of her shirt, and when he fumbled, she simply pulled the thing off and threw it over her head. His gaze landed on the swell of her breasts above the neon-green bra. She smiled, realizing his brain had finally given up the fight. He trailed kisses down her neck, and she arched to guide him to her satin-covered breasts. He cupped one in his large palm as his mouth moistened the nipple through the bra. Arousal rolled through her like a wave of heat.
Greedy for more, she tugged at his shirt, until they managed to pull it off together. He threw it aside. She ran her hands over his torso, thrilling to the ripple of his muscles. His body was so beautiful, so perfect.
He removed her bra and cool air brought her nipples to aching peaks. Then came the moist heat of his mouth. She all but melted into the bed from the pleasure of it.
Closing her eyes, she let her body sag into the mattress as he delighted her with his soft lips and the bold stroke of his hands. He molded her like putty, nipping her with his teeth, then soothing her with his tongue as he finished undressing her. The tension built deep within as he kissed her stomach. She writhed beneath him. Oh, yes. Don’t stop.
His hand slipped down over her belly and between her thighs. Her hips shot upward on a gasp of welcome when he touched her. The world started to drop away and she grabbed fistfuls of the bedspread to hang on. She felt him focus all his attention on her as he concentrated on pleasing her. With his lips pressed just below her belly button, he brought her to the edge with those long skillful fingers.
“Oh, God,” she panted, and tried to reach for him, needing to feel his body over hers. “Chance, I need you. Now.” Please, now. But he continued his quest to drive her mad.
With some vague notion of ravishing him, she shoved at his shoulder, forced him onto his back where she attacked the button and zipper on his shorts. With one jerk, she stripped the shorts and briefs down his legs and tossed them away.
Then she turned back and saw him sprawled fully nude on the bed. Oh, my. He was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. His body sleek and refined, all of him gloriously proportioned to his long hands and feet, an image of masculine grace rather than raw power.
His eyes drank her in, as well, and dilated with desire. Reaching up, he pulled her back to him, wrapping her in his arms as he rolled her onto her back. Every touch of his hands, every brush of his lips, made her breath come faster until she felt dazed.
He settled between her thighs, and she gasped in joy at the first nudge of him against her. A swift thrust and the gasp turned to wonder at how quickly and deeply he possessed her. Oh, my! Gloriously proportioned, indeed. She laughed with relief to have him finally inside her.
With shared elation, they moved together, rolling across the mattress, desperate to touch and taste, both of them laughing now like children, until they suddenly dropped to the floor.
They landed with her on top, their bodies still linked, but barely. For a moment, she stared at his equally stunned face. His cheeks were flushed, his hair tousled, and she couldn’t help but smile. She’d always thought he’d look good rumpled, and she’d been right.
A devious feeling spread through her as she settled back over him. He groaned and gripped her hips in his wonderful hands to guide her as she began a slow, steady ride.
The pleasure built, in her heart as well as her loins, until she dropped her head back, closed her eyes and soared. The wonder burst around her, inside her, like a flash of colored light. She felt Chance arch up to join her—and for an instant, she felt as if his soul touched hers. She clung to the moment as long as she could. But when it faded, so did her strength. She collapsed against his chest, and let his arms enfold her.
For a long moment, Chance simply lay there, staring at the fuzzy ceiling, wondering what had happened. He remembered standing by the daybed, checking items off his list. Then he’d glanced up, into Aurora’s eyes. Desire had hit him like lightning. Everything after that was a frantic— fabulous—blur.
He blinked to focus his nearsighted vision, but it didn’t help. “Aurora?” he asked.
“Hmm?” she murmured against his chest.
“Are we on the floor?”
“Mmm.”
“How’d we wind up on the floor?”
“Hmm-mm.”
He turned his head to see her, and got a mouthful of hair. Battling the wild mass, he managed to uncover her face. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed. “Hey, you okay?”
“Mmmm.” A smile spread over her face, and he swore he’d never seen anything more breathtaking.
He kissed her forehead, and held her close for a moment, then eased her down to lie beside him. “Wait here. I’ll get a washcloth.”
First, though, he had to find his glasses. He finally unearthed them on the other side of the bed, beneath a pair of neon-green bikini panties. The memory of how she’d looked in the candy-colored underwear made his blood stir all over again. Smiling, he put on his glasses and padded barefoot to the bathroom where the glare of the light made him cringe.
As he cleaned himself off, he realized he hadn’t used a condom, which was completely unlike him. He never behaved so irresponsibly. Cursing himself, he rinsed the washcloth and returned to the bedroom. The sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks. His normally neat room looked as if a bomb had exploded. His shirt dangled from one corner of the now-crooked picture over the bed and Aurora’s green bra hung from his bedpost. In the midst of it all, Aurora lay curled up like a contented cat in the bedspread, which must have fallen to the floor with them.
The reality of what had just happened hit him full force. He, Oliver Chancellor, had made love to Aurora St. Claire.
If one could call that frenzied attack of lust “making love.” Amazing! How in the world had that happened?
And what in the world should he do about it?
Panic tried to gnaw its way into his stomach, but he whipped it back. He would handle this situation one step at a time, and the first step was to restore order. Out of order, a solution would be found.
Carrying the cloth, he knelt beside her, stopping for a moment to marvel at her satisfied expression. God, she was so beautiful with that long, tanned body of hers curled up in his navy blue bedspread. His gaze drifted down the length of her, and something more profound than desire warmed him. This gorgeous, vibrant, incredible woman had shared her body with him.
Trying to disturb her as little as possible, he set aside the washcloth and gathered her in his arms. She moaned in sleepy protest as he laid her on the bed beneath the sheet, men he retrieved the bedspread and settled it over her. He should probably wake her. But if he did, she might start talking. The possibilities of what she’d say had the panic clawing back into his stomach and right up to his chest.
Would she expect them to have a relationship now? Something more than him helping her get her business started? Surely she realized how ill suited they were for each other—no matter how incredible the last few minutes had been.
He clung to that hope as he climbed into bed beside her. Setting his glasses on the nightstand, he promised himself he wouldn’t stay there long, but he needed a minute to collect himself, just a minute or two to think of what he’d say. Somehow he’d explain that what had just happened was a dream come true for him, but it didn’t change who they were, or the fact that life had set them on different paths. It was all so logical, though, surely she’d see his point without any messy emotions or hurt feelings getting involved.
> With his head on the pillow beside hers, he watched her sleep. God, she was so beautiful! Cautiously, he lifted a hand and pulled a strand of hair away from her eyelashes, then tucked it into the mass of curls that surrounded her face.
In a moment, he’d wake her and they’d talk—but first he wanted to savor the sight of her in his bed a little longer.
Chapter Eleven
Chance swore he’d closed his eyes for only a second, but when he opened them again, the gray light of dawn was seeping around the draperies. For an instant, he wondered if last night had been a dream; then a soft rump bumped into his hip.
“Aurora!” He bolted upright. She lay beside him, curled up in a cocoon of covers. Which explained why he was freezing from the blast of the air-conditioning vent. She’d stolen all the covers during the night.
“Aurora, wake up!” He jostled her shoulder as he fought for enough sheet to cover himself. When that failed, he scrambled from bed and began grabbing up clothes. He had to get her out of his apartment before his neighbors woke, for her sake as well as his own. He had his glasses, his briefs, and his shorts on before she finally stirred.
“Mmm.” Purring like a kitten, she sat up and lifted her arms above her head in a glorious stretch. Chance froze, struck by the sight of her body outlined by faint morning light. The bedspread and sheet had fallen away, leaving her naked from the waist up. Slowly, she lowered her arms and turned to smile at him over one bare shoulder. “Good morning.”
He managed to untie his tongue. “Good morning.”
“What time is it?” she mumbled as she fell back onto her pillow, her breasts laid beautifully before him.
He forced his gaze to the bedside clock and felt a measure of relief at the early hour. “Not quite five A.M.”
“In that case”—she held an arm toward him, smiling like a siren—”why don’t you come back to bed?”
His body leapt in eager response to the sensual invitation. He even took a step toward her before he caught himself. “No, I can’t.” Well, maybe just for a minute. No! He turned away and gathered her clothes. “We have to get you out of here before half the town wakes up and sees you leaving my apartment building.”
“Oh, that.” She sighed as he handed over her clothes.
“Yes, that,” he said as he took a seat beside her and combed his fingers through her mass of curls. “As much as I wish I could keep you here all day, we need to run damage control on your reputation.”
“All day in bed sounds like more fun.” She draped her arms over his shoulders. “Has anyone ever told you, you have a fabulous body?”
“I have a skinny body,” he corrected.
“Naw-uh. Fabulous.”
Unable to resist, he leaned forward to give her a quick kiss. Then returned for another more leisurely one. Closing his eyes, he gave himself up to a third, hoarding memories of her taste, her feel, the sound of her sighs. Only, why couldn’t all this be happening with Paige? Why couldn’t they have this sort of wild attraction for each other? Or better yet, why couldn’t he combine the two women? Take Paige’s social polish and reserve, and add it to Aurora’s passion for life?
Because the two qualities would mix like oil and water. Which was about how he and Aurora would mix in the long run.
With regret weighing heavy in his chest, he pulled back—a difficult task with her naked breasts rubbing against him. “We really do need to get you out of here. You know how small Galveston can be when it comes to gossip.”
“It’s not that small,” she protested.
“It is when your last name is Chancellor.”
“True. But when you’re one of the Bouchards, you learn not to care what people say.”
For a moment, he wondered how it would feel not to care. He’d always cared what people thought, because the bank depended on the confidence of its customers. Scandal was bad for business. And since the St. Claires were about to go into business, it would be bad for them, too.
“Aurora”—he cupped her face with the palm of his hand—”I don’t want people to talk about you because of last night. And they will if anyone sees you leaving my apartment at dawn.”
“You’re right.” Taking his hand, she kissed his palm. “And I don’t want anything to ruin last night.” Her gaze met his. “It was very special.”
Alarm bells went off in his head at her last words. The conversation he’d feared last night was barely a breath away. Consequence. Expectations. He stood abruptly and took a quick step back. “I’ll, um, just go get the paperwork out of the office while you dress.”
He escaped to the office, only to find the papers they’d compiled scattered over the floor. As he gathered them up, he tried not to think about the woman in his bedroom, the woman with whom he’d shared the most incredible sex of his life. She deserved a man who wanted more from her than fulfilling his fantasies. She deserved a man who had marriage on his mind.
He felt like a complete bastard as he tried to stuff the business plan back in the envelope. As for Paige, he refused to let his mind even go there, other than to send up a quick prayer of thanks that they hadn’t started dating yet, because then last night wouldn’t have been a mere lapse in restraint—it would have been a betrayal.
His frustration mounted when the papers wouldn’t fit into the envelope, even though he knew they’d fit last night. Still struggling with the envelope, he headed for the bedroom—only to collide with Aurora in the hall.
Cursing, he grabbed for papers as they fluttered to the floor. They landed helter-skelter at their feet.
“Sorry.” Aurora laughed while he failed to see the humor. This morning, his life seemed as jumbled as the papers lying between them.
“Great,” he complained with more resignation than heat as he knelt to gather the papers. “They’re completely out of order now.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll straighten them out when I get home.”
“Yeah, but you’ll never get all of them back into that envelope. How did we fit everything in there the first time?”
“It’s the box rule,” she said blithely, clearly a morning person while he couldn’t function on less than two cups of coffee.
“What box rule?” he asked.
“Haven’t you ever noticed that when you take something out of a box, it seems to grow? Like when you were a kid and you’d get a new toy. If you took it out of the box only to find out it was broken, you could never get it back in the box to return it to the store.” She wrinkled her nose in that sexy way that always scattered his brain cells. “I’m convinced things change shape the minute you take them out of the container they came in.”
“You’re probably right,” he said absently as he handed her the last of the papers.
“Will I see you later? At the bank?” she asked as they stood. Her shirt and shorts covered her decently, but it was a struggle not to picture her standing there in nothing but the neon-green bra and panties.
“Yes, of course.” He scrubbed his eyes and prayed for caffeine. “I’ll introduce you to Brian Jeffries, the senior VP over personal and commercial loans. He’ll assign you a loan officer, who will take care of you from there.”
“I still wish we were dealing with you.”
“Even if you were, it wouldn’t affect the outcome,” he explained as he walked her to the front door. “A loan this size has to be approved by a whole panel of people, not just here in Galveston, but at all the bank’s branches in the area. Once they’ve all reviewed the application, they’ll set up a teleconference, hash out their thoughts, and vote.”
“Oh,” she said in a small voice. “Do you think we’ll get approved?”
“I don’t know.” They stopped at the door, and he hated the thought of opening it for her, of watching her walk away. Now that the business plan was finished, they had no reason to see each other again. “We put together a solid proposal. The numbers look good, but your lack of prior business experience will count against you.”
“But
you’ll put in a good word for us, right?” She placed a hand on his arm, her eyes earnest.
“Of course I will.” She looked so anxious, he wanted to take her in his arms and tell her everything would be all right.
They stood for a moment staring at each other. Finally, she smiled shyly. “Will you give me a kiss for luck?”
With his heart already cramping at the thought of saying goodbye, he gathered her in his arms and kissed her. He wished the kiss could go on forever, because he knew it would be their last.
His brief time with her had come to an end.
Regret tore at him as he forced himself to break the kiss. Forced himself to smile. “I’ll see you at the bank.”
She smiled back, in the way only Aurora could smile, as if a light glowed inside her.
“I’ll see you then.” She kissed her fingers then placed them against his cheek. He closed his eyes to savor the feel of her touch against his skin. When he opened them, she was gone—with only her faint floral scent lingering in the air.
* * *
The sun was just coloring the eastern sky as Rory drove home. With the canvas sides of the Jeep off, the chill morning breeze played with her hair as she joined Bonnie Raitt in singing “Something to Talk About.” She couldn’t remember the last time her heart had felt so light. The future stretched before her, filled with possibilities: a business to build, a new home, and Chance.
Pulling under the carport behind the cottage, she left the Jeep running while she finished the song. She wasn’t sure where she and Chance were headed, but at least they were finally headed somewhere.
“‘How about love, love, lo-o-ve?’” she sang, smiling as the music drew to an end. Yes, how about love? she wondered as she killed the engine. That would suit her just fine.
Quiet descended, reminding her of the early hour. She headed down the stone path through the damp grass of the backyard, hoping she could sneak inside and catch half an hour of sleep before Allison’s alarm went off.
Heart Stealers Page 81
