“But—” She took a step closer.
“No!” Holding up his palm, he shook his head. “My job is to protect you, not seduce you.” His gaze found hers. “Your parents—”
“Are in L.A.,” she blurted out.
“—trust me.”
He was right, of course, but she was too young and stubborn to admit it.
“Come on, let’s get out of this downpour….”
Throwing caution to the wind, she flung her arms around his neck and pressed her anxious lips to his. She felt him shudder. From his shoulders to his knees a shiver of desire possessed him.
“No, we can’t…. Oh, God.” And with that desperate prayer, he kissed her, long and hard, his arms surrounding her, his mouth exploring. Turning quickly, he pinned her against the rough bole of the tree, but she barely noticed as she kissed him with all the wild abandonment she’d dreamed of.
His hands moved upward until the weight of her breast filled his palm. His hips shoved tight against her, and she felt the rock-hard force of his desire creating an answering awakening in her. Warm and moist, like the spring shower, she experienced a want that was dark and dusky and so demanding she ached for him, wanting him as she had no other.
He kissed her eyes, her nose, her cheeks, her throat, his tongue licking away the raindrops as his hands found the zipper of her jacket. The bleached denim opened, and he lifted her blouse until his damp fingertip plundered beneath her bra, touching and delving, causing her nipples to crest into small, hard buds.
Desire crept up her spine, spilled into her blood, causing her to moan and kiss him feverishly.
Beneath the drooping branches of the willow tree, with the wind sighing and the rain creating a moist curtain, Kaylie wanted to be loved.
“Oh, I should be hanged for this.”
“Don’t stop—” she cried, feeling him pull away.
“You’re barely eighteen,” he whispered, once again moving away from her.
“But I love you.”
The words seemed to sting. He stepped backward and sucked in a long, slow breath while Kaylie, her breasts still aching, her jacket draped off one shoulder, felt suddenly bereft and empty. Didn’t he want her? She had only to look at him to know.
“Those are strong words,” he said, his voice so low and rough she barely recognized it.
“But—”
“Shh!” Stepping forward, he placed a finger to her lips, and she kissed his knuckle, touching it with her tongue. He grabbed her roughly. “Stop it, damn you!” he growled. “Don’t you know you’re playing with fire?”
“I’m—”
“You’re eighteen. Eighteen! And I’m being paid to keep you safe!” In frustration, he straightened her jacket. “Let’s get out of here before we do something we’ll both regret.”
“This is what I want,” she pleaded, as his fingers clamped around her wrist and he yanked her toward the path again.
“You’re too young to know what you want.”
“I’m not—”
“And you’re too used to getting anything you desire. On a whim,” he said with more than a trace of remorse. “I’m not a rich man, Kaylie. And I’m not going to blow this job by getting involved with you.” Casting her a dark look over his shoulder he added, “And I’m not some toy that you’ll experiment with, lose interest in, then discard when you’re bored.”
“What?” she cried, planting her feet and trying to pull free of his grasp.
He stopped and then, as if he were searching for a way to throw away her feelings, he said, “Grow up.”
She slapped him. With all the force of offended youth, she hauled back and smacked him across his wet cheek.
“You spoiled brat,” he muttered, and she couldn’t tell if he were angry or relieved. Maybe he’d baited her on purpose. But this time, when he took hold of her wrist, his grip was punishing, almost brutal as he half dragged her through the park, mindless of the muddy puddles that splashed her boots. The path cut through a rose garden and a thicket of oaks before spilling onto the sidewalk that flanked the hotel. “Thank God.”