Night Moves: Dream Man/After the Night (23 page)

“The hell it didn’t. Maybe you need to refresh your memory.” He bent his head and, too late, she put up her hands to try to hold him away. Her palms flattened against his chest as his mouth covered hers, and immediately she was engulfed in heat. His heat. Her own. Dizziness roared in her ears. She swayed against him, her lips parting to mold more precisely to the demanding pressure of his, to admit the hot probe of his tongue. All the rich blues and golds and burgundies of his scent swirled around her, inside her, possessing her. His heartbeat thudded, strong and heavy, beneath her right palm. She felt the hard, immediate swell of his erection against her belly, and her hips moved automatically, seeking.

He lifted his head and moved back, putting a few inches between them. He was breathing hard, his eyes fierce with arousal, his lips red and moist and a little swollen from that hard kiss. His fingers moved on her shoulders, massaging, caressing. “Don’t deny what happened.”

“Nothing happened.” She uttered the lie with a defiance that hid her desperation. He knew it was a lie, she saw the
anger in his face, but she said it anyway. She knew what he was doing. In New Orleans she had made the mistake of giving him an inch, and now he was trying to take full advantage of it and gain a mile. Perhaps he had come here tonight thinking she would be easy for him; he could take her to bed, then cajole her into leaving town. For him, he would say. So they could be together without upsetting his mother. Her blatant lie served notice that she didn’t intend to let him have his way. She wrenched away from him, sliding sideways to prevent him from pinning her against the door. “It was just a kiss—”

“Yeah, and King Kong was just a monkey. Goddammit, stand still,” he said irritably, reaching out to grab her, this time holding her arms. “You make me dizzy with that damn two-step. I’m not going to throw you down and crawl on top of you—not just yet, anyway.”

Her eyes flared with panic. “You can bet your sweet bottom dollar, you’re not!” she shouted, once again trying to jerk away. “Tonight, or any other time!”

“Would you stop that?” he snapped. “You’re going to bruise yourself.” With a quick movement he whirled her around and folded his arms about her, crossing them under her breasts and holding her wrists manacled. Just that quickly, that easily, she was subdued and surrounded, his muscled body hard and warm against her back. Temptation rose, strong and immediate, urging her to relax her neck and let her head fall backward onto his chest, let her body soften and mold itself against his, let herself inhale the rich, musky scent of his skin and grow intoxicated on it. She shuddered as hunger surged within her, and knew that if she gave him the smallest response now, she would be lost. It wouldn’t take five minutes for him to have her flat on the bed.

“You see?” he asked, his voice softening to a velvety purr as he felt her tremble. His warm breath stirred her hair. “All I have to do is touch you. It’s the same for me, Faith. I don’t like this worth a damn, but by God, I want you, and we’re going to do something about it.”

She closed her eyes, still shaking with the effort of resisting him, and gave a sharp little shake of her head. “No.”

“No, what?” He nuzzled his cheek against the top of her head. “No, you don’t want me, or no, we aren’t going to do something about it? Which one are you lying about now?”

“I won’t let you,” she said, not letting him distract her. She opened her eyes and stared straight ahead, focusing on one of the lamps in an effort to ignore the feel of his arms around her. “I won’t let you treat me like dirt again.”

He stilled, even his breath halting for a moment. Then he let it out with a quiet sigh. “It’s always between us, isn’t it?” There was no need to be more specific; the memory of that night was almost tangible. He paused. “Baby, I know about Holladay Travel, that you’ve worked for everything you have. I know you’re not like your mother.”

Oh, God. He knew about her agency. She fought a lurch of panic, and instead concentrated on his last statement. “Sure you do,” she said bitterly. “You think so highly of my character that you just accused me of having a sugar daddy. My God, I invited a lonely old man to have dinner with me, so of course I’m crawling into bed with him!” Infuriated, she tried once again to wrench free.

His arms tightened until she could barely breathe. “I told you to stop that,” he warned. “You’ll be black and blue.”

“If I am, it’ll be your fault, not mine! You’re the one doing the manhandling!” She kicked backward, catching his shin with her heel, but she was wearing soft-soled slippers and he was wearing boots; he grunted, but she knew she hadn’t hurt him. She twisted her body, trying to turn around so she could do more damage.

“You . . . little . . . wildcat,” he said, panting with the effort of controlling her. “Damn it, would you be still! I was jealous,” he admitted baldly.

For a moment, she was too stunned to react. She stood motionless in the circle of his arms, wariness at battle with a dizzying spurt of elation. Jealous! He couldn’t be jealous unless he cared—no. She couldn’t let herself fall into that trap. She didn’t dare believe him. She had witnessed his seduction technique before; she remembered how he had soothed Lindsey Partain, complimenting her, telling her how much he wanted her, needed her. He was adept at getting what he wanted. While she had no doubt that he
wanted her physically, with the evidence so prominent, she knew that nothing else had changed. He still wanted her to leave, and would use her weakness for him to convince her to go.

“Do you honestly expect me to believe you?” she finally asked, weariness in every word.

He nudged his hips forward. “Do you deny this?”

She forced herself to shrug. “What’s there to deny? You have a hard-on. Big deal. That doesn’t mean anything.”

A chuckle vibrated in his chest. “It’s a good thing I have a healthy ego, or you’d give me an inferiority complex.”

She wished he wouldn’t laugh. She didn’t want him to have a sense of humor. She wanted him to be mean-spirited and small-minded, so she could despise him. Instead he was bold and audacious, with a disarming laugh. He was ruthless, but he wasn’t mean.

He bent his head to nuzzle her ear, his warm breath tickling the sensitive whorls. “There doesn’t have to be a problem,” he murmured. “We can be together—not here, but there’s a workable solution.”

Faith stiffened again. “I’ll just bet there is. And it involves my leaving town, doesn’t it?”

His tongue flicked out, lazily playing with her earlobe before he caught it between his teeth and sensuously nipped at it. “You wouldn’t have to go far,” he cajoled. “You don’t even have to sell this house. I’ll buy another house for you, a bigger one, if you want—”

Rage engulfed her, red-hot and seething. She wrenched free of his slackened embrace and spun to face him, her face white and her eyes burning. “Shut up! You can’t stop thinking that I’m for sale, can you? The only change is that you’ve moved me up into a higher price bracket! I don’t want your damn house, but I do want you out of mine. Right now!”

His eyes narrowed, and he didn’t move an inch. “I wasn’t thinking about buying you. I was trying to make things as easy as possible for you.”

“Nice try, but I know too much about you. I’ve seen you in action, remember?” The memory of that night was bitter in her tone, and flashed starkly between them. She had that
other memory, too, one he didn’t know about: the time she had watched him with Lindsey Partain. She’d seen him in action, all right.

He was silent a moment, his dark gaze moving over her. “That won’t happen again,” he said gently.

“No, it won’t,” she agreed, lifting her chin. “I won’t let you ever treat me that way again.”

“You wouldn’t have much choice, if I decided to do it,” he said, that dangerous glitter coming into his eyes. He chucked her under the chin. “Remember that, baby. I can play a lot rougher than I have so far.”

She jerked her head away. “So can I.”

His gaze slid down her body, the expression in his eyes changing into something slow and heated. “I’ll bet you can. You almost tempt me to find out how rough you can be, just for the fun of it. But this discussion has gone way off course. We aren’t in a war, baby. We can have a nice arrangement, and enjoy ourselves without hurting my family, if you’ll only agree to it.”

“No,” she said.

“That must be your favorite word. I’m getting damn tired of hearing it.”

“Then stay away.” She sighed, weary of the battle, and shook her head. “I don’t want to hurt your family. That isn’t why I came back. This is my home; I don’t want to cause any trouble, I just want to live here. If I have to fight you to do that, then I will.”

“The battle lines are drawn, then.” He shrugged. “It’s up to you, how much trouble you want to put up with to live here. I won’t back down; you’re still going to be unwelcome in town. If you change your mind, though, all you have to do is call me. I’ll take care of you, no questions asked, and no gloating.”

“I won’t call.”

“Maybe you won’t, but maybe you will. Think about what we could have together.”

“What? A couple of quickies every week? Lying about where you are, because you don’t want your family to know? Thanks, but no thanks.”

He reached out and cupped her cheek, and this time she
didn’t pull away. His touch was gentle as his thumb rubbed her lower lip, probing the inner softness. “There’s more to it than just the fucking,” he said softly. “Though God knows I want that so much I hurt.”

Because she wanted so desperately to believe him, she didn’t dare. She had to fight tears as she shook her head. “Please leave.”

“All right, I’ll go. But think about it.” He turned toward the door, then stopped. “About your company—”

Instantly she was alarmed, and tensed for another battle. “If you dare do anything to hurt my business—”

He gave her an impatient look. “Hush. I’m not going to do a thing. I just wanted you to know how proud I am of you. I’m glad you’ve accomplished as much as you have. In fact, I told my manager at the hotel to give special consideration to any groups booked by your agency.”

Proud of her? Faith stood silently as he left, and the tears she had successfully held back began to trickle down her cheeks. Did she dare believe him in this? She couldn’t, she realized. She would keep to her original decision not to book any more groups into his hotel.

But the tears still fell. He’d said he was
proud
of her.

Ten

M
onica took her time in the bathroom, needing the privacy to get herself back. It was always slightly alarming, that loss of self, of personhood. Michael didn’t seem to feel it; he was always content, a little drowsy, when he moved off of her. She could hear the squeak of the bed now as he moved, probably to put out his cigarette. He didn’t smoke much, he was trying to quit, but after sex was one of the times when he found cigarettes harder to resist. Today his hand had been shaking a little as he flicked his lighter, making the tiny flame dance.

That telltale reaction made her feel soft inside, and she stayed in the bathroom longer than usual so he wouldn’t see. It was bad enough that he knew how wild she went when he was inside her, moaning, clutching at him with wet hands, her hips moving. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t make them stay still. And she was wet down there, too; she heard the embarrassing slurping sounds when he moved in and out of her. She wasn’t embarrassed
then
, all she could think of was the fever building inside her, but afterward she felt the shame.

It wasn’t that way with Alex. With Alex she could restrain herself; he seemed to prefer it that way, and she knew why. He was pretending she was Mama.

She didn’t want to do it with Alex, but at the same time, she did. She couldn’t say that he forced her, not even to make herself feel better about what she did. She loved Alex, but—he was almost like a father to her. He couldn’t take Daddy’s place, no one could do that, but Alex had been Daddy’s best friend, and he had been so hurt when Daddy had left like that. Quietly he had given them all a shoulder to lean on, or to cry on, as the case may be. Sometimes, in those first awful days, she had been able to pretend a little bit that he
was
her father, that nothing had changed.