The Satin Sash

Out in the hallway,Toni thanked the cleaning lady who opened the door for her and stepped into the small hotel room.A faint smell of tobacco lingered in the air, and the bone-colored tapestry on the wall seemed peeled in places. At the end of the room, leaning over an open suitcase propped atop the bed, a shirtless, jeans-clad vision went utterly still at the sight of her.

Shutting the door behind her, she leaned back against it, drawing in breath after labored breath.

“So you’re not that good at good-byes, huh?”

The atmosphere was charged with electricity as black eyes met green. Through the silence, the bitter wind outside blasted across the city and stormed across Lake Michigan. Rain pelted against the sidewalks, gently smacked the windows.

With a hard, bitter, uncompromising thinning of his lips, Heath wadded a shirt in his hands and shoved it into the rumpled suitcase. “Does Grey know you’re here?”

“Yes.”

His head fell forward as though it weighed too much; then he sifted five restless fingers through his hair and made a low, cynical sound. “He must think me more saint than devil.” He stalked over to the window and shoved his hands into his jeans pockets, his posture rigid. In silence, he watched it rain outside.

She’d wanted to say good- bye, and yet a part of her was reluctant to do so when he seemed so distant.With a mounting sense of despair, she took a step forward, finding it hard to imagine that she’d clawed at that broad, ridged back only yesterday and had taken tiny bites of those beautiful square shoulders. They had been hers for a weekend, and a wealth of resentment filled her over not feeling free to touch him now. “You leave early tomorrow?”

“First thing.”

She paused behind him and inhaled a breath. His earthy scent was so powerful in the little room she thought she’d be intoxicated by it. “Canada?”

“Yes.Vancouver.”

Her control deserted her, and she pressed her cheek to his muscled back. He stiffened under her lips as she whisked them across his skin, but the yearning in her was so great, she did not care that he did not want her touch.

“Cat, I don’t know what rules we’re playing by here.” His voice was coarse and broken as he shifted his weight to his left side—away from her.

Did he feel they’d been playing a game? It had felt so real to her, fun like games, but serious like . . . life.

Putting space between them, she circled the room even though there wasn’t much to see. A TV cabinet, a floor lamp, a landscape painting behind the bed. “Your flight from Cabo all right?” she asked.

He splayed one tanned hand on the windowsill, unwilling, it seemed, to face her. “Yes.”

“Heath, about last night . . .”

“I’m sorry, Cat.”

“No, I’m sorry. I had no right to . . . expect anything from you.”

“You had every right.” When he looked at her, his expression bleak with meaning, the shining light in his eyes made her heart leap in a strange forlorn joy. “You ha

ve me by the balls,” he admitted.

She wrung her hands, not entirely sure what he meant, but certain he wasn’t too pleased about it. “W-we were both tense.You were leaving, and things were so intense.”

For one long, tantalizing moment, he seized her chin and ran his thumb along her lower lip, and an aching tenderness both bloomed and died inside her. She had to forget Heath....

“Heathcliff . . .”

“On your lips, I love my name.” He tipped her face up to his scrutiny and slid all his fingers into her hair, cradling her so gently she felt like porcelain. “Can I kiss you one last time?”

“Please.” Oh, please.

“This is your kiss, Cat, and I swear I’ve never kissed a woman the way I’m going to kiss you.” He whisked her mouth with his, scorching her with that fast pass.A sea of anticipatory ecstasy surged inside her.“It’s going to last forever, kitten. I’m going to take it with me.”

She sucked in a breath when his lips whispered across hers. A flood of wanting drowned her words when his mouth opened and he leaned in to kiss her. His tongue massaged hers softly at first; then it raked across her top and bottom lip.

She sobbed his name, and he whispered hers, and then he delved and delved and delved his tongue into her hungry mouth until his lips closed fully around hers. His kiss was like the storm outside, starting with a drizzle and then bursting with passion once unleashed.

She felt his teeth behind his lips as his tongue pushed and then as he caught her lips between them. She could only moan when the pressure of his hands on her back glued her against him. Their sexes rubbed as hungrily as their mouths, their entire bodies.