“You know nothing about what suits me. And what happened on that beach had nothing to do with making love. It was sex.”
“I don’t give a damn what you call it. It was fantastic. Why won’t you admit that?”
“Such a huge ego, Lieutenant. Did you have to buy two seats on the plane?”
He almost laughed, but laughter wouldn’t help this conversation.
“How about honesty, not ego? We had one hell of a night.”
“We had five minutes.”
His eyes narrowed. “It was a lot longer than that.”
“It is time you left.”
“It is time you were honest. “ His hands closed on her shoulders. “Look me in the eye and tell me that what we did that night wasn’t special.”
“Why must you say such things?”
He took a deep breath. “Because I need to hear you admit the truth. That I’m not the only one who can’t forget.” His voice turned low. Urgent. Rough. “All these weeks, remembering the taste of you. The feel of you…”
Her cheeks flamed. Her mouth was trembling. And, hell, were those tears glittering in her eyes?
“Bianca.” Chay put his hand under her chin and gently lifted her face to his. “Tell me that what happened shook you as much as it shook me.”
“Why are you doing this?” she whispered.
“Because, goddammit, because I can’t get you out of my head.” She tried to look away from him, but he wouldn’t let her. “I’m a fool in a lot of ways, baby, but I know what we felt that night. I just don’t know why you won’t admit it— and why you didn’t let me make it better, let me take you to a bed, a real bed where I could have made love to you.”
“You just wanted to—to make me lose myself again.”
The tears he’d seen in her eyes rolled down her face, and he felt his heart turn over.
“I wanted you to lose yourself in me,” he said softly. “In my kisses. My caresses. Was that so wrong?”
She stared into his eyes.
He waited, and realized he was holding his breath. The next move had to be hers.
And just when he thought all was lost, she sighed.
“Chay,” she said brokenly. “Chay…”
She rose to him. Kissed him.
And then she was in his arms.
CHAPTER NINE
He kept his head just long enough to turn the pathetic lock on the door.
Then he carried her to the bedroom.
It was a room he wouldn’t have expected until he’d gotten to know her. Crazy as it seemed, he had gotten to know her tonight.
The walls were pink, as soft and delicate a shade as the inside of a seashell. The furniture was the shade of pale bamboo. Everything else was the color of cream. The curtains at the windows. The duvet on the bed. The throw pillows. Framed pictures were clustered on one wall. Family. A meadow of Texas bluebells. A house on a cliff.
There was more to see, to learn about her, but right now she was all that mattered. Bianca, in his arms, her mouth warm and supple against his.