“I’m keeping you dry. Protecting you from the rain.” He gave a slow, sexy smile. “Showing you my weakness.”
But this close she saw nothing but strength. There was strength in the arms that caged her, in the dip and swell of muscle, in the width of the powerful shoulders that blocked her view of the world. There was strength in the lines of his cheekbones, and in his jaw, shaded by stubble.
Her gaze was trapped by his and his eyes made her think of long summer days filled with blue skies and endless possibilities.
“I don’t mind the rain.”
His mouth hovered close to hers. “I forgot you were British. We probably have a different relationship with rain.”
“Rain and I are intimately acquainted.”
“I never thought I’d envy the weather.” He lifted his hand and stroked her damp hair back from her face. She felt the tips of his fingers brush across her skin, lingering, and knew this wasn’t about clearing her vision of damp hair and rainwater. It was about exploration. Possession.
It had been so long since she’
d been touched like this and she was supersensitive, her imagination and her senses keenly aware of every touch.
Dear Aggie, there’s this guy I find impossibly sexy, and when I’m with him I forget everything. I know that anything we share will be short-term. I’m worried a relationship will end in pain. What should I do? Yours, Light-headed.
The rain was coming down harder now, but only the occasional drip managed to squeeze its way through the cascading branches of the weeping willow. They were sheltered in their own private glade, protected by the tangled labyrinth of green and gold.
She’d thought there would be plenty of people seeking shelter, but it seemed everyone else had chosen to leave the park. They were alone, or at least it felt that way, trapped by the weather and cocooned by nature. It was as if someone had drawn the curtains around them, concealing them from the world. She was aware of the muted thud of raindrops as they pounded the canopy of the trees, of the rustle of leaves and the whisper of the breeze through the branches. And she was aware of the beat of her heart and the uneven note of his breathing.
She raised her hand and brushed a raindrop from his jaw, feeling the roughness of stubble under her fingers.
Dear Light-headed, not all relationships end in pain. Once in a while it’s worth trusting your instincts and taking a risk.
As he lowered his head, she rose on tiptoe and lifted her mouth to his, meeting him halfway. Or that was what she told herself. The truth was that from the moment his mouth met hers there was no doubt who was in control. He cupped her face in his hands, kissing her with slow, leisurely purpose. There was something aggressive about the way he held her prisoner, but something infinitely gentle about the coaxing pressure of his mouth on hers. With each brush of his lips and each stroke of his tongue, he stoked the heat until she was shaking and dizzy with desire. The pleasure was disorientating, a low drag in her belly, a shimmer of electricity across her sensitized skin. Her fingers speared the soft silk of his hair as she tried to pull him closer.
Reason and logic were drowned by the rising tide of arousal. She was unable to even pose a question, which was a good thing because she wouldn’t have been able to answer. All she could do was feel. She didn’t believe in magic, but for a moment she saw stars. The world around them vanished until there was only the erotic touch of his mouth and the soft patter of rain on the leaves.
She melted under the dizzying strokes of his tongue, swaying against him, and felt his hand stroke down her back and linger on the base of her spine, pressing her close. That touch confirmed everything she already knew about his body. That it was hard and strong, conditioned and athletic. The unyielding pressure of his muscles suggested he did more to keep himself fit than chase a dog around the park.
She didn’t know how she got there but somehow she was trapped between the sturdy tree and the power of his frame.
And still he kissed her. He left her nowhere to hide, exploring, demanding, discovering until she was a trembling mass of nerve endings. He showed no signs of stopping and her brain wasn’t functioning well enough to come up with a single reason why she should be the one to stop doing something that felt so good.
His hand moved to her breast, his thumb stroking over the tip. The delicious friction made her shudder and she moaned and pressed closer. She felt his fingers at the hem of her T-shirt and then the warmth of his hand settling on bare skin.
It was like being on fire, the excitement burning over her skin and settling low in her belly.
She had no idea how far they would have gone, but at that moment Valentine barked.
Daniel eased back with obvious reluctance. “Maybe we should take this indoors.”
Indoors?
The word seeped through the clouds of desire fogging her brain and finally settled into her consciousness.
She wrenched herself out of his arms, and winced as she grazed her arm on the bark of the tree.
“Hey, slow down.” Daniel’s voice was rough and sexy. “Good thing you picked a weeping willow, otherwise we would have put on a public display.”
Hearing those words was like being plunged headfirst into a bucket of cold water.
Panic swarmed up her skin. What had she been thinking? She was careful never, ever, to put herself in a position where her professional credibility could be questioned, and yet here she was kissing in the park like a teenager, in view of anyone who happened to be passing.
All it took was a single photograph. A post online. Before you knew it your life was trending, every single private thing about yourself uncovered and laid out for the malicious delectation of an audience thirsty for another public shaming.