Now there was panic, fizzing up like champagne in a shaken bottle. "I don't—What do you expect me to say to that? God!" Despite the shoes, she wrenched open the door and stepped out into the night.
"I didn't ask you to say anything. I'm telling you." He came up beside her and turned her to face him. "It's probably a mistake, but I'm telling you anyway. I have memories of you. I didn't realize how many until I saw you again and they just popped out of my head. I used to think about you. Damned inconvenient, and embarrassing to be thinking about you the way I was when you were the kid sister of my best friend. Josh would have kicked my ass for what I was thinking, and I'd have had to let him."
"I'm no good at this." She moved back, retreating quickly. "I'm no good at this sort of thing. You'll have to stop."
"Not till I'm finished. I never stop until I'm finished. Keep backing up that way, sugar—Laura," he corrected himself as he grabbed her arm, "you're going to break an ankle. I don't mind you being afraid of me. I'd be surprised if you weren't." His grin flashed. "Hell, I'd be insulted. Just hold still a minute."
He held both of her hands at her sides and moved in. "I'm not going to hurt you," he murmured as his mouth lowered. "This time."
It didn't hurt. Devastation came too quickly for pain. He simply undid her with
one soft, lazy kiss. Then with another, harder, impatient, until that reckless, relentless mouth against hers chipped away at the wall of restraint.
And she knew that marriage hadn't prepared her for this kind of desire—the kind that curled like raw, ragged fists in the gut and twisted in angry frustration.
When she gave, he wanted more. He wanted her there, atop the windy cliff with the moon spotlighting them and the violent thrust of the waves matching the way he imagined thrusting into her. And he knew greed could be his undoing.
"I want you to think about it," he told her. "The horses taught me patience, so I've got a small store where you're concerned. It seems only fair to let you know that I want you. It doesn't have anything to do with saving your face in front of the country club set, or with making your idiot ex-husband steam a little. It has to do with you and me. And it's unlikely when it's done that you'll have to ask whether you should thank me."
"I have children."
Laughter, he discovered, could relieve even a great amount of tension. "Christ Almighty. You've got great children, Laura. But this is between you and me."
"I—let go of me and let me breathe, will you?"
She jerked away, rubbing her hands through hair that the wind had tossed into curling confusion. However shaken she was, she felt the simplest way out was honesty.
"I don't have any experience with affairs." Her voice was composed again, but her hands continued to twist together. "I was married for ten years, and I was faithful."
"You've been divorced how long?"
When she didn't respond, he stared. Then he began to see what she was telling him. There'd only been one man—which made her former husband even more of a fool, in Michael's opinion.
"Is that supposed to make me less attracted to you? You know what it makes me, Laura? It makes me want to toss you over my shoulder and find out if I still know how to pleasure a woman in a parked car."
He saw her glance toward his Porsche, and for a moment he was sure there was speculation in her eyes. "Sugar, I'd be willing to give it a shot."
When he stepped forward, she risked a wrenched ankle and evaded him. "Don't. Just don't."
She turned and stared out over the sea where waves slashed white against speared fingers of rocks. It was a long fall, she thought. Reckless jumps were always followed by long falls.
And she had never taken one.
"I don't know how I'm going to react to this. I don't know what I'm going to want to do about it."
"Think about it," he suggested. "I'm going to be around for quite a while. You want to neck in the car, or do you want me to take you home?"
Now she smiled. How could she help it? "Another of those intriguing offers of yours. I'll take the ride home, thanks."
"Your loss, sugar."
Chapter Seven
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"And then Mrs. Hannah said that everyone who'd finished all their assignments could have extra time on the computer. I picked the Art Studio so I got to draw a picture and print it out and everything. Then she put it on the board because she said it was excellent."
While Kayla chattered about her school day, Michael continued to water brush his mare's mane. Kayla had fallen into the habit of visiting him, and he'd