She fought the urge to walk straight out the door, and when he stood behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, she wished she could find the strength to shake them off. But her willpower seemed to vanish at his touch and her skin heated beneath his fingertips. “Do I know her?”
“You’ve met, I think. A long time ago.”
Wynona. She felt like such a fool and her shoulders drooped a little. He pulled her closer and whispered into her ear. “I was here with my mother. I was ten or eleven at the time, I think.”
Relief flooded through her, and when she met his gaze in the mirror again, she saw the hint of laughter in his crystal-blue eyes. “You are a rotten, mean, miserable—”
“Prince,” he supplied, and she couldn’t help but grin as he twirled her in his arms.
“You’re the king now, you know.”
He shook his head. “Not me. Just a regular Joe.”
“Regular Joes don’t do this—” She motioned to the room and deck.
“They should,” he said, as he lowered his lips over hers and dragged her onto the bed with him. She quit arguing and gave herself body and soul to him. The doubts and fears in her mind were stripped away as surely as were her clothes. The old bed creaked as he removed her jacket, sweater and slacks and, while she was dressed only in her bra and panties, he tore off his own clothes. His shoes clunked as they hit the floor and were followed quickly by his slacks and shirt. In the firelight, his chest seemed bronze, the swirling black hairs darker than ever. His body was taut and strong, and she was reminded of a Native American warrior, so sinewy were his thighs and shoulders. But his eyes were blue, a tribute to his Anglo ancestors.
“This is the way it should be,” he whispered, as his arms folded around her and he nibbled at the skin of her neck. Her pulse jumped and her blood flowed like liquid fire through her veins. His chest hair was stiff and curly against her skin and he seemed all hard and angular where she was soft and supple. His mouth found hers, and he kissed her long and hard, his tongue exploring, his hands moving sensually along her rib cage.
He shoved her bra away from her breast, kissing the nipple with featherlight strokes that caused her to writhe and arch against him.
“Slow down,” he said, his lips brushing her breasts, his breath caressing her nipple. “We’ve got all night.”
It sounded so good. She cradled his head against her breast as he removed the rest of her clothes. She reveled in his touch and her heart pounded as his fingers grazed her nipple before he lowered his mouth and teased her with his lips and tongue. His hands sculpted her back, holding her firmly to him, making her feel the length of his hardness pressed deep against her abdomen.
His hands worked magic as they explored her, touching her in intimate places, causing her heart to beat as rapidly as the wings of a hummingbird. Lovingly he caressed her, moving with a slow steady hand that only increased when her body requested a faster tempo.
The room seemed to spin, the heat within her coiled, whirling so quickly that she closed her eyes. But still the candlelight was there, in bright vibrant colors that exploded behind her eyelids and caused her body to quake in violent convulsions that ripped a primeval sound from her throat. “Hayden,” she cried in that foreign voice.
“I’m right here,” he assured her as she clung to him. He let her body slow, and only when her breathing was even and her eyelids fluttered open, did he kiss her again. “Okay, love, now it’s my turn,” he said.
She reached for him, but he picked her up and carried her outside where the cold air brought goose bumps to her flesh. “Are you crazy? What’re you doing?” she cried as he set her into the hot tub and followed after her. “It’s freezing out here.”
“Not in the water.”
“But—”
He kissed her and cut off further protests, and there in the steamy water, with snowflakes sticking to their hair, he gently prodded her knees apart and claimed her for his own.
* * *
LATER, WRAPPED ONLY in a bath sheet, she dialed her home, accessed her answering machine code and discovered no messages, so she hung up feeling less irresponsible. Hayden came up behind her, stripped away the bath towel and forced her back to the bed.
The night passed quickly in a haze of lovemaking and glasses of champagne. They fell asleep sometime before dawn and when she finally awoke, the sun was high in the sky, glistening off six inches of fresh snow. Hayden stood by the window, dressed only in his shorts, staring at the trees. When he heard her stir, he turned and spying her sprawled upon the bed, grinned mischievously.
“This is the way I’d like to wake up every morning.”
Her traitorous heart skipped a beat, but she ignored it and stretched lazily.
Hayden’s gaze moved to her breasts, covered only by the sheets, and he stifled a groan. “We’ll never get out of here if you don’t quit that.”
“Quit what?” she taunted, and he swore under his breath.
“You little tease.”
“Me?” she asked innocently, and he crossed the few feet and threw himself over the bed.
“Yes, you.”