“That’s who I am.”
“Then that’s who I want.” His eyes had darkened with impatient desire. The frustration he felt was only with himself, for being so impossibly driven he might, at any moment, beg. “Lieutenant Dallas wouldn’t be afraid of me, even if Eve might.”
The coffee had wired her. That’s what had her system so jittery with nerves. “I’m not afraid of you, Roarke.”
“Aren’t you?” He moved closer, curling his hands on the lapels of her shirt. “What do you think will happen if you step over the line?”
“Too much,” she murmured. “Not enough. Sex isn’t high on my priority list. It’s distracting.”
The temper in his eyes lighted to a laugh. “Damn right it is. When it’s done well. Isn’t it time you let me show you?”
She gripped his arms, not sure if she intended to move in or away. “It’s a mistake.”
“So we’ll have to make it count,” he muttered before his mouth captured hers.
She moved in.
Her arms went around him, fingers diving into his hair. Her body slammed into his, vibrating as the kiss grew rough, then nearly brutal. His mouth was hot, almost vicious. The shock of it sent flares of reaction straight to her center.
Already, his fast, impatient hands were tugging her shirt from her jeans, finding her skin. In response, she dragged at his, desperate to get through silk and to flesh.
He had a vision of himself dragging her to the floor, pounding himself into her until her screams echoed like gunshots, and his release erupted like blood. It would be quick, and fierce. And over.
With the breath shuddering in his lungs, he jerked back. Her face was flushed, her mouth already swollen. He’d torn her shirt at the shoulder.
A room filled with violence, the smell of gunsmoke still stinking the air, and weapons still within reach.
“Not here.” He half carried, half dragged her to the elevator. By the time the doors opened, he’d ripped aside the torn sleeve. He shoved her against the back wall as the doors closed them in, and fumbled with her holster. “Take this damn thing off. Take it off.”
She hit the release and let the holster dangle from one hand as she fought open his buttons with the other. “Why do you wear so many clothes?”
“I won’t next time.” He ripped the tattered shirt aside. Beneath she wore a thin, nearly transparent undershirt that revealed small, firm breasts and hardened nipples. He closed his hands over them, watched her eyes glaze. “Where do you like to be touched?”
“You’re doing fine.” She had to brace a hand on the side wall to keep from buckling.
When the doors opened again, they were fused together. They circled out with his teeth nipping and scraping along her throat. She let her bag and her holster drop.
She got a glimpse of the room: wide windows, mirrors, muted colors. She could smell flowers and felt the give of carpet under her feet. As she struggled to release his slacks, she caught sight of the bed.
“Holy God.”
It was huge, a lake of midnight blue cupped between high carved wood. It stood on a platform beneath a domed sky window. Across from it was a fireplace of pale green stone where fragrant wood sizzled.
“You sleep here?”
“I don’t intend to sleep tonight.”
He interrupted her gawking by pulling her up the two stairs to the platform and tumbling her onto the bed.
“I have to check in by oh seven hundred.”
“Shut up, lieutenant.”
“Okay.”
With a half laugh, she rolled on top of him and fastened her mouth to his. Wild, reckless energy was bursting inside her. She couldn’t move quickly enough, her hands weren’t fast enough to satisfy the craving.
She fought off her boots, let him peel the jeans over her hips. A wave of pleasure rippled through her when she heard him groan. It had been a long time since she’d felt the tension and heat of a man’s body—a very long time since she’d wanted to.