Harvest Moon (Borrowed Brides 2)

David stood up and pushed back his chair. The wheels crunched on the remains of the glass. The strong odor of expensive whisky drifted up from the floor. David ignored it, focusing his attention solely on Tessa.

She wanted this one night with David Alexander and she meant to have it. With her mind made up, and her conscience firmly pushed aside, Tessa wet her lips again, then smoothed her hands over the soft fabric of her chemise.

David ached to do the same. “You thought if I got drunk enough, I’d want to make love to someone?”

“Not just someone. Me.”

“You?” David parroted, wondering if he’d heard correctly.

“Maybe you think I’m not good enough? Maybe you’d rather have Charlotte or Myra?”

“Yes. No,” David blurted out.

“Well,” Tessa demanded, hands on her hips, “which is it?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t think I’m as good as they are?” She moved so close David could feel the tips of her breasts brushing against his shirt, driving him out of his mind. And he gave in.

“No,” he told her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to his body. Tessa felt the hard length of him against her abdomen. “I think you’re better. Much better.”

“You’re not going to the Satin Slipper?”

“Dammit Tessa, you know I’m staying right where I am,” David said fiercely, “with you.” He kissed the side of her neck, nuzzling the hair around her ear.

“Have you had enough?” Tessa asked, shivering in response.

“Not by a long shot.”

Tessa pulled out of his arms.

“Where are you going?” David asked, grabbing hold of her chemise.

‘To get you a cup,” she told him. “You broke your glass.” Tessa pointed to the mess behind his desk. Then a thought occurred to her. “Unless you’d rather drink straight out of the bottle.”

“Contessa?” David’s dark brown eyes sparkled.

“Yes?”

“Forget the cup. And the bottle. I won’t need it.” He pulled her back into his embrace. “I never did.”

“But you said—”

David stopped her words with his mouth. He kissed her until her knees buckled. She clutched at his shirtfront. David bent and swung her up into his arms. He released her lips long enough to say, “Are you asking me to make love to you, contessa?”

“All night long,” Tessa reminded him. “Just as you said.”

David laughed. “What exactly did I say?”

“You don’t remember?” A frown creased her forehead.

“Bits and pieces.” David kissed the tip of her nose. “Refresh my memory.” He sat down on the top of his desk with Tessa in his arms.

“You told me I didn’t have to be afraid of you. You said that despite what people say about Indians and half-breeds like you, I should know you weren’t a mean drunk. You said—”

“I must have been crazy,” David commented, “to say all that.” He kissed her again. “What about the whisky?” he asked.

“You said it doesn’t make you want to fight or be cruel or slap women around. You said—”