This time, when he lifted his head, she let go of him.
“Dani—” he said.
The power flickered and went out.
9
THE CABIN WAS plunged into darkness.
Dani scrambled off Daeg, not sure what to do or say. More came to mind. He raised himself up onto his elbows and she wished she could read his mind. Desire was twisting her up in knots. Never had she burned like this for a would-be lover. Never imagined she could. She needed to be alone, to think. And yet here he was, clearly going nowhere. As her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she could make him out as he lay there on the floor next to her. He was staring at the ceiling as if he hadn’t a care in the world. That was what made Daeg Ross so dangerous. She’d known he was a really, really good kisser, but she hadn’t expected he’d be such good company. Or that he’d have a playful sense of humor.
She wanted to touch him, tease him, because this handful of minutes they’d had wasn’t possibly enough to satisfy her. Or probably him. She needed more. Much, much more. And here she’d sworn she wouldn’t rush headlong into a new relationship, that she would play things cautiously. It was probably preferable that Mother Nature had thrown a bucket of cold water on her libido. Her wet clothes and dirty skin were hardly romantic.
She pointed a finger at the overhead light, even though he probably couldn’t see what she was doing. She knew and that was what counted. “See? Exhibit A.”
“Power outages are common during a storm,” he told her calmly, reaching for a flashlight. “There’s no need to panic.”
“I’m not panicking.” She wasn’t. She just believed in being prepared.
For everything.
She jiggled the light switch, hoping against hope that the power outage was a temporary glitch, but no such luck. With the storm shutters up, the dark cabin suddenly seemed far too small.
“There are candles in the bathroom.”
“No candles until the storm’s passed overhead. Fire hazard.”
Great. She was stuck in a cabin with a wannabe firefighter. Which was fine, since she didn’t want him thinking that she was thinking about bed. With him. Which she was, if she was being honest.
He handed her a flashlight. “Here.”
“You shouldn’t have,” she deadpanned, flicking the beam on and off.
“Don’t waste the batteries.”
“You want me to just sit here in the dark?”
He eyed her. “No. Strip.”
Her breath caught in her throat—well, she was glad he didn’t know about the heat pooling in her belly. It had definitely been too long since she’d had a generous lover—and that had been one heck of a kiss.
A smile curled his lips. “Your clothes are wet, Dani.”
Suddenly, the four-poster bed behind them seemed to take up the entire cabin. That bed was total romance—nine feet by eight, with a thick white duvet and an intimate canopy.
He rolled onto his side, toward her. In the beam of light, his expression seemed serious.
“How long have you known me, Dani?”
“Are we counting consecutive days or just subtracting an end date from a start date?” she asked lightly. Where was he going with this?
“Either. In all that time,” he continued, “have I ever done something you didn’t want?”
She swallowed. “No.”
“So tonight’s not any different.” He watched her steadily.
She wanted to laugh. He thought she was nervous about being alone with him when the opposite was true. She was dying to get her hands all over him—but she didn’t know how to tell him. Who would have thought that a simple proposition would be so difficult to get out?
“Got it?” He waited for her response, not moving.
“Absolutely.”
She was suddenly conscious of how she must look.
“I guess with this outfit and hairdo, I wouldn’t win any beauty contests,” she joked.
He eyed her up and down, and something about that dark gaze made her pause. No one had ever stared at her quite that intently. No man had stared at her and made her feel like he was seeing a real woman. Daeg did.
“You did go for a swim,” he allowed, a grin tugging at his mouth.
“A really big one. I’ll stick to pools from here on out.”
She closed the collar of his jacket, which she was still wearing. She wasn’t cold. She was reveling in the fact that it was his, so much so that it seemed a shame to give it back.