She had no choice then but to offer a vague look into the olive grove and murmur, “Oh, look—puppies.”
“You’re not funny.”
“Sure I am.” She left the car and pulled her own seat forward to help him retrieve the removable side windows and canvas top. Her reflexes felt clumsy as she helped him snap and button everything into place, her whole being intimidated by the easy mastery with which he moved.
The patter of rain on the budding branches above them increased as they finished, bouncing through to hit them in fat dollops. They slammed themselves back into the car as the sky opened up. The drumming became a wild rush of sound.
As the windscreen blurred with heavy rain Rowan glanced at him, expecting him to start the car and pull out. In the muted light his blue eyes were charcoal, his body a mass of gathered energy.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I can’t wait.” He leaned across, one hand cupping her cheek as he slanted his mouth in hot possession over hers.
Rowan gasped, parting her lips. Nic took devastating advantage, thrusting past the games and hesitations of their past kisses and slamming them into a new reality of raw seduction. His arm came behind her shoulders, gathering her up and providing a pillow as she yielded. So much had changed between them in the last twenty-four hours Rowan couldn’t do anything but give herself over to the flood of desire.
When his tongue touched hers lust struck with blinding ferocity, lighting a fire of aggression in her that made her kiss him back with equal fervor, lashing at his tongue with her own, fueling the blaze of need expanding around them.
She was dimly aware of a soft growl in his throat, that his fingers moved in a gentle caress of her jaw and throat, but she wouldn’t give up their kiss. Her hands went into his hair, holding him so she could harden the press of their mouths, inhibitions demolished by how instantaneously he inflamed her. She needed this more than air.
With another feral sound he slid his hand to her breast, boldly sliding beneath the scoop neck of her top and invading the snug cup of her bra.
At the first catch of his fingers across her nipple Rowan released a cry into his mouth, startled by the shot of intense pleasure that bolted directly into the heart of her.
Nic pulled away, watching as he exposed her breast. Rowan thought she ought to be embarrassed, but she wasn’t. He wore a reverent look, like her pink nipple was beautiful, thrusting so wantonly. She couldn’t help but feel pride as she basked in his ravenous gaze.
Then he lowered his head and took her into the hot velvet of his mouth. A keening sound left her. The sensation was so intense and sustained. Cradling his head in her forearms, she pressed her legs tightly together, trying to ease the ache throbbing between.
He pulled back a little, just enough to jerk open his shirt. “Touch me.” He brought her hand to his hot chest, then forced his own between her clenched thighs.
Rowan splayed her hands on his hot damp skin, bombarded by too many sensations: the loving stroke of his tongue against her throat, the rasp of silky chest hair on her raw palms and the stunning pleasure that accompanied the firm cup of his hand where she wanted pressure most.
He kissed her again, short-circuiting her brain. Her hips rose into the press of his palm. She tried to feel all of him: the hair-roughened muscles of his chest, the flat quiver of his belly, the silky smoothness of his spine. As her fingertips quested toward the waistband of his jeans he pulled back again.
“Do you have anything?” His voice was deep and sensual, urgent and ragged.
“What—?” She was so new to this it took a second for her to understand. “Protection, you mean? No!”
“You’re not on the Pill?”
“No!”
With a soft curse he fell back in his seat, hands gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. “That’s probably for the best. This car is impossible. What would we do? Lie down in the grass in the rain beside the road? Don’t do that on my account,” he added, with a covetous look to where she was snapping out of her torpor and rearranging her clothing.
Shell-shocked, she could only tuck, adjust and zip her jacket to her throat. “I didn’t mean to let it go that far.” How had it happened? What about her little speech about having found a spine against being pressured?
“I shouldn’t have kissed you. I knew I wouldn’t want to stop.” He checked the mirrors, then fired the engine and pulled into the rain, the wipers slapping at full speed in the tiny windscreen. Reaching out to take her hand, he tangled his thick fingers between hers. The tiny stretch was sensual and erotic. He rested their clasped hands on the stick shift.
“It’s okay. I have some in my room.”
“Some—condoms?” So premeditated. If he’d pulled her to the wet grass a few seconds ago she would have gone without protest, but talking like this allowed reservations to creep in.
“Yes.” The curt way he answered and the purposeful way he drove made it sound like they were on their way to pick up an organ transplant.
But his having condoms in his room made Rowan’s hand go cold inside the vital grip of his. Did that mean he slept with women at Rosedale? All her insecurities flooded to the fore as she contemplated the scope of his sexual conquests. And she was signing up to be next? How demoralizing!
Twisting free of his grip, she swallowed back sick anxiety that grew all the more troubling when she realized he’d released her because he needed to shift down and make the turn into Rosedale. Seconds later they pulled into the garage. The absence of pounding rain made the interior of the car overly silent—especially once he cut the engine.
Feeling suffocated, Rowan threw herself out of the car, then stopped. She wanted to stomp away in a jealous temper because he’d confessed to having other women, but that would be immature. It wasn’t as if she’d believed he was a virgin. Maybe it made her heart ache that he treated Rosedale like a brothel, but given the way its owner had caused him to feel left out in the cold could she really expect him to view the house as sacred and special the way she did?
Moodily shifting to the open garage door, she stared through the wall of water pouring off the eaves and hugged herself.
He’d had casual sex with a lot of women. Maybe sex with her would be equally casual for him, but it would mean something to her. Nic, her first, here at Rosedale.
Rowan pressed the backs of her knuckles against lips that began to quiver with vulnerability, edging toward one of the biggest decisions of her life.
“Ro?” Light fingers tickled over her hair, sending a shivery warmth cascading through her. His hand settled warmly on her shoulder.
Rowan turned her head to look up at him, catching her breath at the impact he made on her. He looked into her eyes and she saw a tiny flicker of something, almost a flinch, like he saw something in her gaze that struck past his impervious shell. His hand flexed and hot intent flowed back into his evening-blue eyes, burning out anything else she thought she might have seen.
“Will you come upstairs with me?”
She couldn’t speak, but she nodded. His smile, warm and appreciative, softened his warrior features into something so handsome he stole her breath. He took her hand and led her into the house.
CHAPTER SIX
THIS WAS HAPPENING.
Nic’s grip on her hand was warm and strong, holding her anchored when Rowan felt she might float away. This was one of those instances so perfect it was like a rainbow on a bubble—enchanting but fragile. She clung to his hand as they climbed the stairs, fearful something would break the spell and cause her tentative euphoria to burst.
When he led her to his door she hung back, trying not to reveal how much tension was gathering inside her.
His gaze searched hers and Rowan felt as though invisible threads looped out to cast around her and back to him, gathering them into a tight, inescapable cocoon. There was such smoldering sexuality in his face she feared for a moment that she was about to be overtaken by him, captured and smothered.
“Second thoughts?” he asked with gruff coolness.
Rowan looked down at the threshold she couldn’t bring herself to cross. “Suffering a bit of performance anxiety. I don’t want to disappoint you.”
Nic surprised her by lifting her hand to press soft kisses on her cool fingers, his lips twitching with amusement. “You’ve come a long way. Twenty-four hours ago you didn’t give a damn what I thought.”
Rowan couldn’t speak. The truth was too revealing. She’d always cared. This was just the first time she was admitting it. The back of her throat stung. The moment was huge.
Nic’s fingers tightened on hers. “You won’t disappoint me,” he said. “I’ve waited too long for this to be anything but completely gratifying.” He leaned down and took her mouth in a slow kiss.
She clung to his lips with her own, prolonging the exquisite rightness, letting the soft kiss play out into intensifying rhythms that made her hurt inside. It was so good.