Which didn’t come.
How strange. Where was the agony? Where was the shock?
Faintly bewildered, Laura just hung there for a second, suspended by two bands of steel that had come from who knew where and snapped round her waist. Come to think of it, what exactly was the solid thing she was pressed up against and why was her body suddenly zinging with electricity?
Her heart beginning to pound even faster, Laura gingerly opened her eyes. And found herself staring straight up into Matt’s, so close, so dark and so focused on her that she nearly saw stars all over again.
When he’d caught her he’d evidently had to clamp her to him. Now every inch of her body was plastered up against his and awareness fizzled along her nerve endings. She could feel the tension in his muscles as he held her. She could feel his heart banging against the palm of her hand. The intoxicating scent of him enveloped her, seeped into her head and made her dizzy.
He was so close she could see flecks of gold in the brown of his eyes. So close his mouth was barely an inch from her own. The lingering traces of pain and shock receded and slow drugging desire began to hum in the pit of her stomach.
Laura’s pulse leapt. Her lips actually tingled. All she’d have to do would be to lift her head a fraction and she could put an end to the speculation and find out exactly what he tasted like. Perhaps she could blame it on concussion, because, Lord, it was tempting.
But it was also just not on, Laura reminded herself, dragging her gaze from Matt’s mouth and fixing it firmly on the wedge of tanned flesh exposed by the V of his T-shirt.
The only reason she was in his house was because she’d guilt-tripped him into it. He didn’t really want her here and, as was clear from the scowl on his face, he wasn’t exactly ecstatic about having had to jump to her rescue.
A kiss from her would be about as welcome to him as UPVC windows were to her. No doubt about it.
Unfortunately knowing that wasn’t apparently enough to stop a deep sigh of longing escaping her lips.
Heat rushed to her cheeks in the silence that followed. God, she really hoped Matt hadn’t caug
ht that. And she really hoped he couldn’t feel her swelling breasts and hardening nipples press against his chest.
But as his arms tightened around her any hope she might have had that he hadn’t noticed her reaction to him evaporated. Her heart skipped a beat. Her eyes jerked up and met his just in time to catch something flaring in the brown depths. Barely a flash, but it was enough to set her heart galloping and her head spinning. And then she felt another part of his anatomy flaring and the bottom fell out of her stomach.
Oh, good Lord.
It wasn’t just her. He felt it, too. Laura’s heart thumped. Judging by the impressive evidence swelling against her hip, Matt was as attracted to her as she was to him. His head was moving forward. His eyes were darkening as they roamed over her face, lingering on her mouth before sweeping back up to meet hers.
For a split second delight shot through her and then quite suddenly panic elbowed the delight aside and thumped her squarely in the chest. Her nerves started to twist into a tangled mess.
Oh, God. If Matt did want her as much as she wanted him then she ought to leave. As soon as possible.
Because if he did make a move and kissed her, she’d never be able to resist. One thing would lead to another and another and another, and before she knew it she’d be back where she started, assertiveness course or no assertiveness course.
It would be even worse if he didn’t kiss her. Because then the danger was that what with her highly unstable behaviour of late she’d be the one to make a move.
Either way the outcome would be a disaster of epic proportions.
So why wasn’t she pushing him away? Why was she letting him get closer?
Time seemed to skid to a halt and Laura couldn’t move. Matt’s hand came up to cup her face and her skin burned as if he’d branded her. Anticipation thundered through her and her bones melted. When he slid his hand up and threaded his fingers through her hair Laura couldn’t help lifting her face. Couldn’t stop her breath hitching and her lips parting.
God, who cared if she couldn’t resist? If this was wrong, why did it feel so right? Her gaze dropped to his mouth and her heart hammered. Desperation to taste him clawed at her insides and she had to bite on her lip to stop another whimper of need escaping.
‘It doesn’t look as if you need stitches,’ he murmured, ‘but you’ll have quite a bump.’
What?
Laura froze. The whimper died in her throat. For a moment bewilderment besieged her brain. And then clarity dawned and she went scorchingly hot.
Agh. The bump on her head couldn’t possibly be any bigger than the one she’d just had crashing back to reality.
What on earth was the matter with her? How could she have got it so wrong? Thank God Matt had drawn back before she’d lost patience and grasped the initiative.
At the thought of just how massive a fool she could have made of herself mortification roared through her and made her cheeks burn. God, was there no hope for her?