Circle of Death (Damask Circle 2)

He pulled her close. Then he slipped his hand down to her rear and pulled her closer still, so that every inch of their bodies seemed to be touching. Her breath caught and her heart raced, but not from fear this time. Far from it. Her whole body felt as if it were on fire, and part of that came from the deliciously erotic sensation of lying here in the darkness with him, while the chance of discovery loomed only a few footsteps away.

We shouldn’t … this is dangerous. Lord, even her mind-voice sounded breathless.

We’re only lying here. What can be so dangerous in that? But even as the words whispered into her mind, he slowly began undoing her shirt buttons.

You need to concentrate on our intruders, not on trying to seduce me. She tried to add a touch of sarcasm to her thoughts, but failed miserably. They still sounded as breathy as she was feeling.

In reality, we’re the intruders here. And if they move this way, I’ll hear them, believe me.

She did believe him. He’d made a successful living from being a thief and had no doubt been caught in tougher situations than this.

His amusement washed through her. But never before have I had such a lovely way to pass the time.

The last of her buttons came undone. He brushed the shirt back over her shoulders, then teasingly ran his fingers across her bra and up her neck, until his hand cupped her cheek.

His lips grazed hers, feather light and tender. I’ll stop if you want me to.

She closed her eyes. For an instant, she considered telling him to do just that. To back away and leave her alone. But only for half a second. He was going back to America once the murderer was caught, no matter what happened between them. Did she really want to lose him without at least knowing his touch, without feeling his caress, inside and out?

No, she thought. Definitely not. Damn it, she’d spent most of life erring on the side of caution, and what had it achieved for her? Very little. And certainly not happiness. If she lost her heart in the process of making love to him, what of it? At least she would have finally taken a chance, stepped beyond the shackles of memories and mistakes and done something simply for the hell of it.

Happiness doesn’t happen all that often, Helen had been fond of saying. So seize it by the scruff of its neck and enjoy it while it lasts. Let the future worry about itself.

And just this once, she was going to do precisely that.

Don’t stop. She turned her face and kissed his palm. He shifted his hand, running a thumb lightly across her lips. She caught it in her mouth, sucking on it gently.

His breath seemed to catch, and heat flowed through the link, setting her body alight. She let his thumb go and leaned forward, kissing his lips, exploring the warmth of his mouth with her tongue, greedy to taste him more fully.

He skimmed a hand across her shoulders and down her back, catching her bra and deftly undoing it.

She pulled back a little, her heart pounding and her breathing harsh. Lord, they’d barely even kissed and already she was aching with need. In some ways, it was scary just how attuned she was to him.

If we do have to run, this is going to be get awfully embarrassing, she thought, as he pushed the bra to one side.

That it will. He didn’t seem unduly worried by the prospect. He ran a finger around the outline of her nipples, teasing them to aching life without actually touching them.

You’re not playing fair. She tugged his T-shirt free from the waistband of his jeans, pushing it upward. He caught her hand, taking the T-shirt and deftly pulling it off.

You did that a little too easily. Are you sure you don’t make a habit of trying to seduce women in confined spaces?

His amusement shimmered through her, spreading like a wave through her body, tingling even her toes. I have to admit, this is not a place I’ve ever been tempted to try before.

Oh yeah? So where have you been tempted to try? She touched his chest, running her fingers down the plane of his stomach, cupped her hand around the hard length of him, gently rubbing through his jeans. Desire burned through the link between them, ready to explode.

My favorite would be under the stars. He ran his hand down her stomach and began undoing the button on her jeans.

Her breath caught, the anticipation of his touch becoming a pulse deep inside.

There is something very erotic about two people making love under the light of a moon on a warm summer night, he continued, undoing her zipper.

There was something very erotic about making love under a dusty old bed with the chance of discovery only a quick gasp away, too. He pushed past her panties and touched her, slipping his finger down her wetness and thrusting inside. She shuddered, pushing against his hand and barely restraining her moan.

His lips caught hers. She kissed him hard and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him against her until her breasts were deliciously squashed against his chest and all she could feel was him caressing, thrusting, deep inside her.

Outside, in the hall, footsteps sounded.

Deep inside the ache was growing. Oh God, stop … stop, her mind begged, even though it was the last thing she wanted.