He frowned. ‘Is that what I do?’
‘Yes, all the time.’
‘And you don’t like it?’
‘No. I do not.’
‘Then I apologise,’ he said stiffly.
‘Well, there’s a first,’ Shaan drawled, and knew even as she said it that she was behaving more like the child in need of reprimand than she had ever done.
He must have thought so too, because he let out a heavy sigh, his eyes closing as he seemed to make an effort to get a hold on himself. ‘We’d better go,’ he muttered grimly. ‘Before this thing degenerates into a real fight.’
‘What—another one?’ she taunted recklessly. ‘I thought we had one last night.’
His face tightened, the shaft hitting well and truly home, which almost immediately made her feel ashamed of herself for using it
Then he reacted.
His hands caught her around the waist and physically hauled her
up against the wall of the lift before she’d done more than gasp in surprise. Her eyes widened, real alarm showing in their turbulent dark depths while he stood there in front of her, pulsing with—something—though she wasn’t quite sure what.
‘Look—I’m sorry about last night, all right?’ he bit out tautly. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you. In case you didn’t notice it, I also upset myself.’
‘I…’ From feeling reckless with provocation, she now found herself feeling wretched with remorse. ‘I didn’t understand why—why you were so angry,’ she explained a little unsteadily.
‘I know.’ Something flashed across his eyes—more anger, she suspected, but couldn’t be sure, and the fingers he lifted to touch her cheek were incredibly gentle. ‘But I wasn’t angry with you,’ he said. ‘I was angry with myself, for losing control like that.’
‘I thought you must have been wishing I was Madeleine.’
However she’d expected him to react to that honest little confession, it was not how he did react. His eyes closed, his mouth clenched, his big chest moving up and down on a fierce tug of air.
‘Oh, hell,’ he muttered, and looked at her again. ‘Shaan—about Madeleine—’
‘No!’ Her fingers jerked up to cover his mouth. ‘Please don’t,’ she whispered, sudden tears shining in her eyes. ‘I don’t think I could bear it if you…’ She couldn’t finish what she had been going to say because it revolved around his love for Madeleine, and that was exactly what she couldn’t bear. ‘Can’t we just forget it ever happened and go now?’ she pleaded anxiously.
He continued to stare grimly at her for a few moments longer, taking in the ready tears, her quivering lips, and lifted a hand to clasp her fingers that still covered his mouth.
He said very huskily, ‘You beautiful fool.’ And bent his head to kiss her.
He said that to me once before, she recalled hazily as her lips parted in helpless surrender to the needs of his mouth. ‘Forget Madeleine,’ he murmured gruffly as he drew away again. ‘I have.’
As she realised she had forgotten Piers? she wondered, and felt a new warmth suffuse her as hope began to blossom.
Hope for what? She didn’t know. She didn’t even want to bother searching for the answer, because she could suddenly feel him as though he was deep inside her again, and she wanted him there in reality.
‘Do we really have to meet these people?’ she murmured huskily. ‘I could plead a headache and you could put me to bed and tuck me in, you’re very good at doing that…’
He let out a soft laugh, his hands splaying over her slender hips where they were sensually moulding themselves to his. ‘And to think,’ he murmured ruefully, ‘I thought you were such a shy little thing.’
‘Disappointed?’ she asked.
‘No—enchanted,’ he replied, and captured her mouth again.
‘Does this mean we can go back upstairs?’ she questioned hopefully some long, very satisfying minutes later. And, like a woman with a brand-new weapon in her possession, she began seducing him with soft, clinging kisses interspersed with, ‘Please?’ Her fingertips ran inside his jacket so they could stroke long, sensual caresses along his lean ribcage, and her slender hips slowly gyrated against the steadily building tension in his.
‘Please…?’ she kept on whispering. ‘Please, Rafe—please…?’