After Midnight (18 page)

“Noah?”

His breath caught in his throat. Words failed. Setting his guitar aside, he savored the sight of her. Subtle hues of smoke emphasized her incredible gray eyes. Her black-lace-over-blue top molded her torso, hugging curves and showing off her breasts. The top’s scalloped edge ended one inch above the waistband of her jeans, leaving a strip of smooth, golden skin exposed.

He dragged in a ragged breath. Then another.

Last night when her hand settled against his chest, while her mouth opened beneath his, he had wanted her badly. Wanted to peel her clothes from her body. Lose himself between her legs. Today, as the subtle scent of her perfume breached the space between them, the desire returned with enough force to blot out everything else.

“Dom was right,” he managed, then swallowed past the tightness that had settled in his throat. “You look great today.”

“Yeah, I smell good, too,” she replied sardonically.

“You do.”

“Did you hit him?”

His gaze slid to her overfull lips. Was she wearing lipstick? Something subtle, like her beauty, yet effective. “Who?”

“Tommy.”

He grinned. “You mean the shiner? Nice handiwork. I did enjoy that.”

She kept her eyes on him, saying nothing. Then she spun on her heel and headed out the way she came.

Noah opened his mouth. Closed it. He blinked once, twice. It didn’t help.

Was she trying to drive him out of his mind? Her jeans were air-brushed with climbing roses that worked up her leg, around her thigh, and culminated in a vibrant blue blossom on her ass. It was enough to make a dead man salivate.

“Suck it up,” Dominic warned, as the door closed behind her with a snap. “She’s moving fast.”

Noah managed to pull himself back together. Barely. Had he ever felt this clawing hunger for a woman before? He couldn’t remember. “You failed to mention those jeans.”

Dom’s only reply was an unapologetic smile.

Chuckling, Noah stepped into the hall in time to watch the back door close. He turned to the right and followed the path she’d taken, pushing out into a small garden area he hadn’t known existed.

Neatly trimmed green grass covered the ground, bisected by a flagstone path that led to a rectangular wooden dining table. The table was topped with an oversized cloth umbrella, unnecessary since the area was shaded by a large red maple that stood off to his right. He spotted Isabeau near the maple, her back to the studio.

The door clicked shut behind him as he stepped onto the grass and headed in her direction. Before he was more than halfway to her, she turned.

“I abhor violence,” she stated, her voice full of emotion.

Standing beneath the shadow of the tree, he couldn’t see her face, but her arms were crossed in front of her, her hands cupping her elbows in a white-knuckled grip. “Sometimes it’s—”

“No, it’s not. It’s never excusable.”

He continued in her direction, stopping inches from her. “I understand how you feel.”

She stared up at him from eyes a little too bright. “How could you?”

He smoothed his hand over her hair. Silk. “What happened to you? You can talk to me. You know that, don’t you?”

Shaking her head, she took a step in retreat.

Secrets, she seemed to be full of them. Would she ever share them with him? “Isabeau?”

“I didn’t think it would matter. I was wrong.”

Confusion filled him, warred with the desire still burning in his gut. “What are you talking about?”

As he took a step forward, she took one in retreat. “This isn’t easy for me. I care about you.”

“That’s good, because I care about you, too.”

Showing no outward sign of having heard him, she kept talking as if he hadn’t spoken at all. “I dressed up for you. I chose this outfit, the perfume, all with you in mind. I was looking forward to seeing you this morning, but you didn’t come by. So you didn’t come by, who cares?”

“I’m guessing you do.”

“Maybe this is normal for you, I don’t know. I have no idea how women are with you. I only know how to be myself, and this isn’t me. I don’t watch the door looking for that one face, yours. And I don’t fret over my appearance.”

“You don’t have to fret, you’re beautiful.”

“Don’t say that,” she whispered, her eyes drifting shut. “We both know it’s not true.”

She took his breath away. Didn’t she realize that? Not just today, but every day, every time he saw her. It wasn’t her clothes or the addition of makeup that had his blood up, it was the woman beneath it all. Now that he knew her taste, the feel of her body pressed against his and the fit of her in his arms, he wanted nothing more than to experience it again.

Settling his hands on her waist, he eased her closer to his body. “It is true.”

She stiffened in surprise. Her hand came up and settled in the center of his chest. Not a caress, but a barrier between them. “Noah, don’t. I can’t do this.” Her eyes slid closed again, then opened as she pushed out of his arms. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t come by for a while.”

“Isabeau?”

Without further explanation, she turned and started to walk away. Not back into the studio, but around the outside of the building.

“What? Wait a minute.” Catching up with her, he snagged her wrist and spun her to face him. “Damn it, give me a minute will you?”

“I have to get back to the bar.”

“The hell with the bar!” His jaw bunched. “Is that what you needed to talk to me about? You wanted to ask me to stop coming by? At least tell me why.”

She pulled her wrist free of his grasp, regret creeping into her expression. “I already asked you what I needed to ask you.”

She had? He was missing something, something big. But damn if he could figure out what it was. He took a step forward as she took one back. She wasn’t walking away from him. Not today, or anytime in the near future. Not before he had a chance to better explore his feelings for her.

He furrowed his forehead, running the past few minutes through his mind. “You asked me about Tommy.”

“Yes,” she replied with a nod.

“Then you left the room before I answered.”

“You answered me.”

“No, I didn’t.”

She blinked. “I asked if you hit him and you said you enjoyed doing it.”

“No.”

“Yes. You—”

He put his finger on her lips. “I said I enjoyed the fact that he was sporting a shiner. I never said I was the one that gave it to him.”

She studied him for a moment, then pushed his hand away. “The fact that he was hurt pleases you?”

“It does.”

“Why?”

“Sometimes all a bully needs is someone to turn the tables on him, someone to show him what it feels like to be on the receiving end.”

“But you weren’t that someone?”

“No. I never touched him, Isa.”

“Okay. Good.” She dragged the heel of her palm across her forehead, then massaged her temple.

“Headache?”

“You…make my head hurt.”

“Do I?” He stepped closer, and because he needed to touch her again, lifted his hands and took over for her. Sliding his fingers into the dark silk of her hair, he pressed his thumbs against her temples. “Better?”

A soft sigh escaped her lips. “Thanks.”

“It’s the least I can do. After all, I am the cause of your discomfort.”

She stared at him for a long moment. “You and me…”

“Yes?”

“It’s not smart.”

“Do you always do what’s smart?”

“Yes.”

“Then maybe it’s time you didn’t,” he reasoned.

Slowly, the stiffness went out of her spine. She reached up and cupped her right hand against his jaw. Her fingers brushed across the stubble he hadn’t had time to shave off after sleeping through the alarm. “It’s softer than it looks.”

“Yeah?” he managed, as desire returned so quickly it made his head spin. Her hot, incredible scent enveloped him. “I overslept.”

Which was why he hadn’t stopped by the bar on his way to the studio. He might have anyway, taken the time for a quick hello, if he didn’t already feel the heat of the record company’s breath on the back of his neck. He needed to concentrate on pulling together the demo—getting it right. New and fresh. And he couldn’t do that when thoughts of her kept creeping in like fog.

It didn’t work. She snuck into his mind anyway. Then, as if she knew how much he’d regretted not going to see her, she walked through his door instead.

“I like it. It looks good on you.”

He tightened his fingers in her hair and tipped her head back. “As good as those jeans look on you?”

Her slow smile heated his blood. Her left hand settled on his shoulder, then slid up to curve around his neck. “Much better.” Her eyes had changed color again, from gray to blue. They’d done that last night. Right before she melted into his arms.

He leaned into her. “If you still want me to stay away from you, you’d better tell me now.”

“Noah?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

She didn’t have to ask twice. He dipped his head, settled his lips on hers and plundered. He dragged her against him, and drank in the hot, potent taste of her as he fed on her mouth like a starving man.

She softened, a tiny sound of passion slipping up her throat—an urgent invitation. His pulse leaped. So did other parts of his anatomy. Her fingers burrowed through his hair.

He deepened the kiss, stroking his hands down the sides of her body to settle on her hips. He used them to guide her as he stepped forward once, twice, until her back settled against the trunk of the maple. Awash in the smell of her, the feel of her, he pressed closer, until no space existed between them. Her breasts flattened against his chest, her hips arched into him. Heat from her body flowed into his, sparking a fire. His heartbeat echoed in his head.

“Isabeau…” He kissed her again. His lips trailed over her jaw to her throat, pressed against the sensitive spot beneath her ear. Her fingers dug into his shoulders.

Lost in her, he slid one hand up her body and settled it on the soft swell of her breast. Her nipple beaded, pressed against the center of his palm. Her breath left her in an audible rush.

“What are you doing to me?” she gasped.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“I…need to go back.”

“Stay,” he coaxed, tracing light kisses along her jaw, before returning to her mouth for a long, hard, wet kiss. Beneath his hands, her body shuddered.

“Noah,” she said, her voice raw. She shifted so that their lips no longer touched, but remained a scant inch apart. “You have work to do. So do I.”

Her breasts rose and fell against his chest as she struggled for breath. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen. The last thing he wanted to do was let her go. “Work can wait. I’m not sure I can.”