Take a Chance on Me (119 page)

large? Why did she see desire in his eyes? What was going on?

"I think it's time for some direct communication." Thomas took a step closer. "You tell me what you know, Emma. Then I'll tell you what I know."

She exhaled sharply and launched off the bed, grabbing for her clothes. "I don't want to play this game anymore, Thomas," she snapped.

"This is no game. Tell me what you know."

She grabbed a shoe off the floor. "You want to know what I know? Well, listen up, Studly—I know I've had enough! You lie to me, seduce me, and then back off, then lie again, seduce me again, and back off again! You're killing me!"

She pointed the toe of a clog in his face. "You're a nut job, that's what I know! A whacko! And I don't understand why it's so damn hard to find a decent man in this town!"

Thomas felt his mouth fall open.

Emma tried to jam a foot into the leg opening of her underwear but missed, and her toe got caught on the crotch panel. As she hopped on one foot and cussed under her breath, Thomas watched those fabulous breasts jiggle and sway, all high and full and tipped with the most exquisitely formed, seriously suckable nipples he'd ever hoped to see as long as he lived.

She pulled the little strip of beige lace up over her mound. The panties clung tight and low on her luscious hips. And then it hit him.

Oh, fuck everything—he loved this woman and there was no turning back. He wanted to ravage that body. He wanted to soothe that spirit. He wanted to hold her, make her forget everything in the world but the fact that he loved her. He started to tell her that, but he wasn't fast enough.

"And here's what I'd really like to know—why is it that no one has ever fallen madly in love with me?

What's wrong with me?" Her face was flushing and her eyes glittered with unshed tears. "Why hasn't someone ever swept me off my feet? Ravaged me? Made me forget everything else in the world but hot, wild passion? Just once, dammit?"

She shook her bra in his face to make her point. "You made me think that it was going to be you, damn you, and then you just reject me! That's the meanest thing anybody's ever done to me, and I let you do it twice! Go figure! I must be a complete idiot!"

She was waving the bra around like a semaphore, her eyes and hair wild. "And you … you bastard! If you didn't think I was sexy enough for you, why didn't you just tell me before I threw myself at you?"

Thomas found his voice long enough to say, "Huh?" Then his tongue nearly hit the floor.

She'd managed to shove her arms through the straps of her bra, but in her fury, forgot to clasp it. Two useless lace cups just hung there, separated in the front, skimming above the jut of her nipples, accentuating the round curve of the underside of each breast. With every ragged breath she took, the lace caressed the pale, creamy mounds of skin.

His whole body began to tremble, like a cat sprung tight before the kill.

"You obviously didn't think I looked good last night or you would have said something! I kept waiting for you to say something! But you didn't, you big jerk!" She gulped in a mouth of air. "I'm so sick of jerks I could scream!"

His eyes locked on hers.

"Stop staring at me!" The tears slipped down her face. "I hate it when you squint like that—it feels like you're looking at me through the cross hairs!"

"Stop, Emma."

"And I'm terribly sorry if you didn't think I looked nice in that dress, because listen up, big guy—that was as good as it's ever going to get with me, so if I didn't do it for you, then we've definitely hit the wall!" She began to wrestle with her jeans.

Thomas felt the rumble of a laugh begin deep in his chest, but knew he'd screw himself but good if he let it out. Emma needed tenderness right now, not laughter.

He took a deep breath. Obviously, the dress was the test and he'd failed miserably, just as he knew he would. It was time to beg for a makeup exam.

Thomas dived to his knees before her, his big hands ripping the jeans from her calves, then forcing her hips to the edge of the bed. Once she was seated, he grabbed her face, cradled it in his palms, and watched her eyes go wide with confusion. She began to shake beneath his touch, his gaze.

"What are you—"

His lips captured hers, hot and demanding, and the fire Emma had felt downstairs was back, but burning higher. His kiss was a slam of raw energy, raw need, and okay—so he did want her, but what about five minutes from now? Emma tried to wrestle free of his mouth, but he tightened the grip on her hips.