A worried look came into Aerin’s eyes. ‘Are you having second thoughts?’
He kneeled one knee on the bed beside her and leaned forward to cage her in with his arms. ‘Are you?’
‘No.’ She lifted her hand to his nearest shoulder and stroked her fingers down the length of his arm in a touch as light as fairy footsteps. ‘I want you.’
‘You know this is madness, don’t you? Us doing this.’
Her other hand trailed down his other arm, sending shivers up and down his spine. Her gaze was luminous at it met his, shining with the same need he knew shone in his. ‘It would be madness if we both didn’t agree on the terms.’
Drake planted a kiss on her lips, a long passionate kiss that sent his blood pounding all the more. He was hard and aching to possess her but he knew he would have to slow down and take things gently with her. She had cast some sort of spell over him, a magical spell that made it impossible for him to walk away and leave her well alone.
He straightened from the bed to step out of his boxer shorts. ‘I have to get a condom.’
‘Do you have any with you?’
‘I always carry some in my wallet.’
She chewed at her lower lip for a moment, her eyes downcast. ‘Of course...’
Drake picked up his wallet from where he had left it on the bedside table. But then he snapped its folds back together. ‘It’s too late to change your mind.’
‘Why would I change my mind?’
He took in her pink cheeks and unblinking grey-blue gaze.
‘Because I’m a playboy and you’re a virgin.’
Her cheeks darkened another shade but her eyes remained steady on his. ‘I’m not making any judgements on your lifestyle. You’re not currently seeing anyone, so I don’t see a problem.’
Drake could see a problem. His past was a problem that cast long shadows over his life. How he could be sure those dark shadows wouldn’t somehow taint Aerin by being closer to him than anyone had got in years? He had told her things he had told no one. She had not pressed or pushed him to reveal his childhood trauma but he had opened up to her all the same. Why had he allowed her to get past the fortress he had built around his emotional centre? Wouldn’t making love to her only bring her closer?
He would be her first lover.
That was not something he could dismiss from his mind like so many of his other lovers who had faded so easily into the background. He would carry the memory of this experience with Aerin for the rest of his life. And so would she of him. He would not be able to look at her without seeing her like this—naked, hungry for him, her chin reddened by his stubble. She would not be able to look at him and not recall this stolen moment of pleasure. What if he hurt her, even unintentionally? Could he live with that? Could he live with more guilt to lug around?
But maybe guilt was the price to pay for what he wanted right now.
Drake came back over to her and tilted her face up so her gaze meshed with his. His brushed his thumb across the reddened circle on her chin. ‘I’ve given you beard rash.’
‘Have you?’
He bent his head and lightly kissed her chin. ‘I should shave before I make love to you.’
Her hand came up and stroked the rough stubble on his jaw. ‘I like the feel of it, so raspy and prickly.’
Drake stroked her smooth cheek with a lazy finger. ‘Your first time might be a little uncomfortable. I’ll take it slowly and make sure you’re well prepared.’
‘Isn’t that a bit of a myth? That all virgins feel discomfort or bleed? I read an article about it somewhere. Being forced to prove one’s virginity is an outdated patriarchal practice that still happens in some developing countries. I’ve been physically active all my life so I might not feel a thing.’
He slipped his hands down to her waist, his smile wry. ‘I’ll definitely have to work on my technique if you don’t feel a thing when we make love.’
Her cheeks were tinged with pink but her eyes were alight with anticipation. Her arms came up and looped around his neck, her breasts pressed against his chest, stirring his blood to a roaring, rushing river of fire. ‘I thought I’d be nervous but I’m not with you. This feels like it’s meant to be. Does that make sense?’
Drake brushed an imaginary wisp of hair off her face. ‘It makes perfect sense,’ he said, and, joining her on the bed, brought his mouth down to hers.
Because in a weird sort of way it did make sense. They were snowbound, secluded, and attracted to each other. Why not enjoy this for what it was? A secret weekend fling that would be over before it got a chance to do any permanent damage.
CHAPTER SEVEN