One Hot Winter's Night (11 page)

She shouldn’t have told him her life history. Normally you couldn’t pry it open with a crowbar, but she’d seen the sympathy and gentleness in his eyes and hadn’t been able to stop.

He got off the bed, came over to her and placed his warm hands on her arms. “Don’t go. No more questions, I promise.” He rubbed her arms, and she tingled all over.

Still she hesitated, biting her lip. He took her hand. “Did you know you can see the pyramids from this side of the hotel?” He led her over to the window and pulled back the curtain. She stared, entranced, at the view of the three pyramids in the distance, lit up by spotlights. He slipped his arm around her. “Beautiful.”

“Yes,” she said, “they are.”

“I wasn’t talking about the pyramids.”

She looked over her shoulder at him. He brushed her cheek with his fingers and slid his hand into her hair. She turned to face him and he kissed her, long and lingering. She put her arms around him, enjoying the slow play of his lips across hers, the warm brush of his tongue, his arms tight around her.

Eventually he pulled back. “Do you promise if I visit the bathroom you won’t take the opportunity to escape?”

She licked her lips. Her blood was beginning to race around her body at the desire in his eyes. Her heart thumped, and she knew she’d passed the point of leaving. “I promise. Those eleven condoms are calling out to me.”

He laughed and kissed her cheek, then went into the bathroom.

She sighed, picking up the remote and flicking the TV on, and found the music channel, smiling as one of her favourite ballads came on. Happiness flooded her. Well, what was not to like? She was in the middle of Cairo, in a room with a stunning view of the pyramids, she’d made the deal on the Bastet figurine, and the most gorgeous man she’d ever laid eyes on was about to screw her senseless. Hopefully.

She shouldn’t have told Heath about her background, but she was kind of glad she had. The heavy weight that sat permanently on her chest had lifted a little. She finished off another glass of wine and put down the glass, letting the music wash over her. Oh, yes. Tonight was a good night.

Heath stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, washing his hands. He glanced at his reflection, smiling as he saw his hair sticking up where she’d run her fingers through it. He dried his hands and smoothed the silvery strands down, hearing music coming from the other room. She’d put on the music channel. He walked over to the door.

He opened it slowly, as quietly as he could, and leaned against the doorjamb, watching her. She was dancing, her dress still unzipped, her long blonde hair rumpled around her shoulders, facing the window, presumably looking at the pyramids. She moved sensually and smoothly, her hands linked on top of her head, her hips swaying. He caught his breath as desire surged through him, but he made himself stay still. She was like a deer in a forest, and he was afraid a sudden movement might frighten her away.

Heath hesitated, battling with himself. He already knew he wanted much more than she was willing to give. He’d made the quip to Alexander about marrying her to provoke the older man, but it surprised him how attractive he found the idea of staying with her. He wanted to date this woman, take her out, spend time getting to know her, fall in love with her. Hell, he was already in love with her, who was he kidding? She intrigued him, with her strange blend of confident archaeologist and shy, nervous woman.

But she didn’t want anything more with him. Or she didn’t think she did. Something had happened in her past, something he had yet to discover, and it had scarred her for life, making her think she had to hide herself away, making her afraid to let her emotions be touched. He was going to have to show her there could be more between them than just sex.

He watched Cat dancing, desire flooding his veins like a drug. After they’d finished tonight, she was going to walk away from him, and if he wasn’t careful, she’d talk herself out of ever seeing him again. She’d convinced herself he was bad for her. And clearly Alexander wasn’t going to be any help. Persuading her to see him again wouldn’t be easy.

But Heath was a man used to getting what he wanted.

He’d have to have to tread lightly, and be sneakier than he’d ever been before. The Silver Fox was really going to have to work for what he wanted this time. He was going to have to hook her before he reeled her in. And if he had to do it one sexual encounter at a time, then he’d do it that way.

Chapter 14

Cat stopped in her tracks when she turned and saw Heath standing in the doorway, watching her. He’d crossed his arms, he wasn’t smiling, and his hazel eyes were very intense. He pushed himself off the doorframe and began to walk toward her, and her heart rate increased. He reminded her of a panther, padding across the carpet; prowling. She backed away until her legs met the bed, the momentum causing her to sit down with a bump.

He studied her for a moment, still not smiling, and then walked around the bed to the telephone. She watched him, puzzled.

He picked up the receiver and pushed the button for reception, then waited for a moment, his eyes on her. “Hello? Yes, can I order some room service please? A bottle of champagne—yes that will be fine—and…some chocolate ice cream. Yes. With extra chocolate sauce, please.”

Cat’s eyes widened as she remembered what he’d promised to do with the sauce. He replaced the receiver and walked back around the bed to stand in front of her. He took her hands and pulled her up. He still wasn’t smiling. The look in his eyes was desire, hot and neat, like fine whisky. She tried to think of something to say, something amusing to break the tension, but for once her mind had gone blank and she could only stare up at him, swallowing nervously.

Reaching around her, he unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor. She covered her breasts self-consciously, but he slid his arms around her. Then his mouth was on hers, and she inhaled deeply, slipping her fingers up into his hair, pressing herself against him.

He kissed her for a full minute before lifting his head, and moving closer to her, his eyes dark with passion. It forced her to step back, but the bed was behind her and she fell backward again, bouncing on the mattress.

“Lie down,” he instructed.

She did so, her heart hammering. He walked over to his night bag and retrieved something, then came back over to her. A long, silk tie trailed from his fingers.

He paused in front of her. “Move up a bit.”

She shuffled up the bed, but her mouth had gone dry with nerves. “Heath…”

He climbed onto the bed and sat astride her, then bent his head and kissed her briefly. “It’s only me. You trust me, don’t you?”

“Er, no.”

Laughing, he took her right wrist and looped the tie around it. “You promised me, the next time we’d do it my way.”

“Um… I don’t remember promising anything.”

He smiled, but didn’t say anything. Taking her hands, he raised them above her head, hooking the tie through one of the slats of the headboard before placing the other end around her left wrist.

She wasn’t sure she liked feeling so vulnerable. Her heart pounded. “Heath, seriously…”

“Relax.” He kissed her. “You can get out any time you want. It’s symbolic, that’s all.”

She looked up at her wrists. He’d slipped the ends of the tie in a simple, tight loop around each one, but hadn’t knotted it. One determined wriggle and she’d be able to free her hands. She looked back at him. “Well, you’d never make it as a Viking.”

He lay beside her, looking deep into her eyes. “I want you to give yourself over to me. Let me pleasure you. Pretend you’re letting me have my wicked way.” He stroked her cheek. “But you’re in control. You’re letting it happen. I’ll stop any time you want.” He kissed her. “But you won’t want me to.”

“Oh…” Such strong emotion washed over her that it nearly made her cry. How did he know her so well? How did he understand she desperately wanted to explore her sexuality, but was afraid of giving up control of her body? That she wanted fun, excitement, and passion, without commitment, without complications?

She cleared her throat. “Well, you’re a regular Rasputin, aren’t you?”

“Slightly less mad, I hope.”

“If the cap fits…”

He trailed a finger down between her breasts. “Rasputin believed in yielding to temptation in order to proceed to repentance and ultimately salvation.”

“He also stood drunk at the front of a Saint Petersburg restaurant and waved his dick at the diners,” she pointed out.

He gave a short laugh. “You’re the most unromantic girl I’ve ever met, do you know that?”

“I don’t know the first thing about romance, Heath. I’m sorry.”

“We’re not born knowing, sweetheart. Romance doesn’t just happen—you have to work at it. And maybe I can help there.” He lowered his head, touching his lips to hers.

He kissed her slowly, softly. His palm rested on her abdomen, warm and reassuring. Her cheeks grew hot, although she wasn’t sure why. He lifted his head. Once again, she felt herself lost for words at the intriguing blend of tenderness and desire in his eyes. What was it about this man that dismantled the speech centre of her brain?

Someone knocked at the door, and he got off the bed and walked over. For a brief second she panicked that Alex had returned but then she heard Heath talking and realised it was only room service. Still, she fidgeted uncomfortably, feeling exposed lying there naked, her arms above her head.

Within seconds he was back, though, and he put the champagne in its ice bucket on the table, then came over to the bed and climbed onto it, a dish in his hands. Placing it on the bedside table, he stripped off his shirt, trousers, and socks, and then sat next to her in his boxers, legs crossed. He took a mouthful of the ice cream. “Hey, this is good. You want some?”

She shook her head, trying not to stare at his tanned, muscular thighs with their scattering of light brown hair. “I don’t like chocolate, remember?”

“Oh, yes.” He took another mouthful. “Actually it’s really good. I might just sit here and eat the whole lot.” His eyes twinkled at the look on her face, and he laughed, stretching out beside her.

He dipped the spoon in the ice cream, mischievously touching her nose with it, then grinned, leaning over her to lick it off slowly. He touched the spoon to her cheeks, then her lips, licking the ice cream off each time. Next, he dipped the spoon in and held it over her body. Trails of cold chocolate laced across her skin, making her squeal. “Heath!”

He laughed, put the bowl aside, and leaned over. Slowly, languorously, he began to lick her clean.

He slid long strokes of his tongue up her abdomen, then circled her breasts, his tongue warm and soft, making her squirm and sigh alternately. More sauce followed, and he smiled impishly when he concentrated the swirls on her nipples. She held her breath as he covered them with his mouth, sucking and licking them clean.

She’d never, ever felt like this in her life. Her heart pounded and her breathing came more quickly as he began to trail sauce and kisses down her body, skimming her hips and going all the way down her legs to her feet. He moved to the end of the bed, and she wriggled and laughed as he laced chocolate between her toes, sucking them clean.

Then, slowly, he began to kiss up her thigh.

When he reached the top and his lips brushed her pubic hair, she gasped, instinctively jerking upright, forgetting he’d tied her hands. The tie was tight enough to halt her movement, and she lay back, her heart beating frantically. He stopped, raising his head to watch her, but she couldn’t look at him.

She stared up at the ceiling instead, her hands tightening on the loops around her wrists. He said nothing, but stroked her thigh gently, comforting her and planting the occasional kiss as he waited for her to relax.

She forced herself to remember his words.
You’re in control. You’re letting it happen. I’ll stop any time you want.
She could slip her hands out of the loops now and push him away. He wouldn’t argue with her, wouldn’t make fun of her. It was her decision. He wasn’t forcing this on her.

I want you to give yourself over to me. Let me pleasure you
. His gentle reassurance echoed in her mind. He wasn’t trying to control her, humiliate her, or make fun of her. He genuinely wanted her to enjoy this.

Her heart hammered, but she forced herself not to move. He continued to place soft kisses on her thighs, his tongue tracing the skin occasionally, making her shiver.
You trust me, don’t you?
In the archaeological world, he was the Silver Fox, and she didn’t trust that sneaky bastard an inch. But here, in the bedroom, he was just Heath, gentle and loving, funny and kind. And she did trust him.

She closed her eyes. She’d read about oral sex, seen it on the movies. She desperately wanted to try it for herself.

Taking a deep breath, she made herself let it out slowly.

Heath paused. He placed another kiss on her thigh. When she didn’t react, he moved slightly higher up. He reached for the ice cream again and drizzled chocolate on her hip, licked it clean, then trailed more across her flat stomach to the other hipbone, his tongue following. He moved leisurely, letting her adjust to each new sensation. He brushed her pubic hair with his lips, sending shivers of pleasure through her.

Slowly, he moved her legs up, pushing them wider apart. She bit her lip, fighting every instinct that told her to sit up and move away. The spoon clinked in the bowl and she screwed up her eyes, jumping slightly as the cold sauced trickle right into her most intimate parts. “Jeez, Heath!” she exclaimed, not knowing whether it was the cold or the thought of what he was about to do that was making her shiver.

He chuckled, replaced the spoon and lowered the bowl onto the carpet. He hesitated for a moment. Then, finally, he brushed his warm tongue right through the central, hot core of her.

She gasped, feeling as if she’d fallen into a deep, warm bath. Her whole body glowed with warmth. The sensations threading through her were like nothing she’d ever experienced. He explored gently with his mouth, licking and sucking lightly, then firmly, teeth grazing, the stubble on his chin occasionally brushing her thighs.