скачать книгу бесплатно
“Is that a yes?”
Deciding to yield to unnatural impishness, Catherine yawned.
Clay leaned toward her menacingly. Without a word he unsnapped the safety belt and scooped her from the car.
“Put me down,” she protested, laughing.
He didn’t.
Suddenly she didn’t want him to.
She wanted, if just for this moment in time, to believe this craziness might truly last.
And why not? She was well and truly stuck for the next month. He held the keys to the car. Along with the one to her heart.
She vowed he wouldn’t open that lock to the same hurt a second time.
Clay carried her inside, holding her tight to his chest. She heard the steady ebb and flow of his breaths, noted the fact his dark hair was now shaded with subtle streaks of gray.
“Well?” he asked, letting her slide down the length of his hardened body.
She glanced around the cabin. Sucked in a deep breath. “You did all this?”
He shrugged. “Not much use owning a construction company if you don’t put the talents to good use.”
“It’s stunning.” Old, worn wood had been replaced with bleached pine. A fireplace graced an inside wall. A bank of windows formed the exterior wall. No drapes hung on the picture windows to mar the sensational view of the valley below.
Warm throw rugs adorned the hardwood floors. Dried mountain wildflowers sat in vases scattered through the living room and kitchen.
“I did it for you.”
Her eyes squeezed shut. “Clay...”
He turned her to face him. Then he ran a fingertip across her eyelids, commanding her attention. “I’m not trying to guilt you into staying with me, Cat.” He laid one finger across her lips. “Don’t make any decisions. Don’t say anything. Just enjoy the moment. ”Can you do that?”
She managed a shallow nod.
“First things first.” He moved his finger, slowly trailed it to her chin, pausing on the small cleft.
“Dinner?”
“Nope.”
“Unloading the rest of our supplies?” asked Catherine.
“I carried my bride across the threshold.”
Her breath seemed frozen.
“I need to give her a kiss to welcome her home.”
Oh, heavens.
“Slow and soft, Cat?”
Her mind ordered her to run.
“Or with the passion that built inside me during the months you weren’t in my house, the months you weren’t in my bed?”
Her heart held her firmly in place.
“It’s your choice. But know one thing. I’m going to kiss you. And it won’t be a kiss you’ll forget anytime soon.”
For all the aspens in the high country, she couldn’t find her voice.
His finger trailed lower, down the middle of her neck, then lower again. Before he’d arrived to pick her up, she’d shed the suit jacket and opened the top button on her blouse.
Now Clay opened the next one.
His callused finger dragged her tender skin as he eased down even farther. She shivered. Vulnerability began to chum inside. No man ever touched her the way Clay did. No man knew exactly the right words, the right combination of sensual pleasures that undid her.
Her lips parted.
She wanted.
Wanted to resist.
No and yes blurred in her mind as he prolonged the torture. She no longer knew the meaning of the words, no longer cared.
“Which will it be?”
He gently opened the next button, skimmed the lace bra, and paused between her breasts, right above the clasp that held the material together.
She looked up at him.
“Hmm, Cat? Slow and soft? Or fed by passion?”
Which would it be? Neither, she wanted to say. Neither, she should say. They’d spent less than three hours in each other’s presence and already she yearned for his touch.
Before much longer, she knew he would make her burn, too.
Damn it, why had she agreed to this?
“Tell you what,” he said softly, leaning a little closer, stealing the air she intended to breathe, “I’ll make the choice for you.”
Her eyelids drifted shut as another button magically surrendered beneath his skilled touch. Clay tugged on her blouse, pulling it free of the skirt’s waistband.
He released the final button.
The slippery silk slid against her shoulders.
Did Clay intend to slip it off her and allow it to pool on the carpeted floor?
Would she let him?
A breeze brushed treetops, then drifted through the open door, teasing the flesh laid bare by Clay’s hands.
“Slow, this time. Soft, too. I want to savor you, Cat.”
She licked her lower lip in anticipation. But he surprised her.
A feathering of a kiss whispered across her forehead. She opened her eyes.
Then shivered.
Clay’s blue eyes had darkened. Silver flecks from the dim overhead lighting radiated his inner intensity.
This was no game to Clay.
He wanted her back.
And intended to pursue her with the same single-minded determination that won Landon Construction half a dozen of the biggest contracts in Denver this year.
He brought a hand up, cupping her chin in his palm. “Your eyes show hurt, Cat.”
She swallowed. “I hurt,” she softly admitted.
“And I’m the one who hurt you.” Self-loathing sandpapered his voice.
The night gave courage. His eyes demanded the truth. “Yes,” she admitted.
“I’m going to chase it away.”
“And what if you make it worse?”
No answer. Just sounds of nocturnal animals stirring to life. Her heart continued to beat frantically. His jaw hardened.
“I won’t make it worse,” he finally said.
A part of her wanted to believe it.
“Fall in love with me, Cat.”
She refused to admit she already was.
“Let me love you. Let me chase away the pain.” Gently, ever so gently, he moved his forefinger across her brow, then back again.
Incredibly tender, he explored the contours of her face, the length of her nose, the outline of her lips, the shape of her cheekbone. Everywhere he touched felt light and ethereal, as if moonlight had caressed her.
Her lips seemed to swell with the promise that never came.
Instead, he lowered his head, trailing warm kisses down her throat, over her shoulder, baring it as he went.
Silk teased her skin, raising goose bumps.
He thumbed aside the bra strap, healing the flesh beneath with his tongue.
Catherine’s head tipped back as she surrendered to Clay. She offered her trust. Hoped he was worthy of it. Her hair hung down her back in abandon she hadn’t felt in years.
He lovingly rediscovered the nuances of her, the hollow of her neck, that place where a pulse raced, then the underneath of her chin.
His left hand held her, palm flat against the small of her back. With his right hand, he supported her neck.
With his mouth, he awakened her.
Clay’s unhurried homage made her feel feminine. Womanly.
Her breathing labored. Sharp nails sliced into her palms, adding to the hundreds of sensations that bombarded her.
“Touch me, Cat.”
His breath warmed her and she responded to his words, reaching for him, burrowing her hands in his thick hair, drawing him closer.
His evening shadow dragged across her skin. She cried out, not with pain, but with awareness.
Clay paused for a moments, looking at her questioningly.
Her eyes didn’t want to stay open, didn’t want to do anything but let her other senses be consumed. “Please don’t...”
His Adam’s apple moved as he gulped, waiting for her to finish.
“Don’t... stop.”
His curse was earthy. Fired a purely womanly response deep inside.
Holding his head, she urged him up. She ached for his touch. Ached. Wanted. Wanted it. Wanted it now.
“Kiss me, Clay.”
“Slow and soft...Cat?”
She barely recognized his voice, so labored with his rapid breaths.
“Or with passion?”
“Sl-slow,” she managed. Any more passion would see her unhinged. She knew it, suspected he knew the exact same thing.
His grip tightened, holding her steady as he claimed her lips.
