Falling for You (11 page)

“I’d love to learn more,” she said. “If you would teach me.”

Dangerous thoughts swirled through his head, memories of how well they’d worked together these last two weeks blended with images of their time continuing on into the future. He pulled back to a safe distance, where the exotic floral scent of her hair didn’t seep into his senses. “I’d like to, but you’ll be way too busy building your business once you get the loan.”

He realized suddenly that she wasn’t the only thing he’d miss. Somewhere along the way, he’d gotten wrapped up in the excitement of the project. He understood now what drove people to take such risks. It was more than the prospect of a financial payoff—it was the satisfaction of building something from the ground up.

“Do you think we’ll get approved?” she asked softly.

He blew out a breath. “It’s hard to say. If it were up to me, I’d approve the loan tomorrow. Unfortunately, I don’t work in the loan department. I run operations and handle new accounts.”

“So, when we get the loan, you’ll be our personal banker?” she asked with a quick grin.

“It would be my pleasure,” he said, even though he didn’t handle many accounts personally anymore. His management duties took up too much time. But handling the St. Claire account would allow him to remain part of the project in a vicarious way. “Are you still planning on tomorrow being the big day when you turn in your application?”

“Yep.” When the report finished running, she sent the document to the printer. “Allison has asked the antiques shop for the morning off, and I don’t need to be at the pier until noon. So, we’ll come down to the bank first thing.”

He retrieved the report from the printer. “Let’s go through everything one more time and be sure we have it all in order.”

Rising, they went to the daybed, where Chance had lined up all the reports and documents in neat piles. Watching him, Rory wanted to groan in frustration. For two weeks, she’d tried every subtle way she could think of to let him know she would welcome an advance. Honestly, she thought, if the man weren’t so intelligent, she’d think he was completely dense.

Neither of them was seriously involved with anyone else. She’d only had a couple of friendly-dating relationships in the past year, and she was certain Chance wasn’t enthusiastic about going out with Paige. He never called her, and to Rory’s knowledge they hadn’t had a single date yet.

So, what was the hold-up? They were both available, adult, and attracted to each other. At least she was attracted. Wasn’t he curious to see if there was something more interesting between them than compiling business reports?

They stood by the bed with Chance checking off each item as she put them in the large manila envelope. As the envelope grew heavier, and the bed emptier, her desperation mounted. This was their last night together. Unless something happened within the next few minutes, she would lose her excuse to be alone with him like this.

“I guess that about does it,” Chance said, staring at the empty bed.

“I guess so.” She wanted to cry. Or scream. With the envelope weighing down her hands, she looked up into his eyes. What she saw made her heart jolt. Finally, his guard had dropped, revealing desire that mirrored her own. He wanted her. She could see it so clearly. And she was tired of waiting for him to make the first move.

Now or never,
she told herself and pressed her lips to his. She felt him freeze, and she squeezed her eyes shut.
Don’t pull away
, she prayed.
Kiss me back. Please kiss me back.

He swept her hard against him. His clipboard clattered to the floor. The envelope fell at her feet. One of his hands ran up her back, into her hair as his lips took greedy possession.

Yes!
she silently shouted as she lifted one leg along the outside of his thigh. His other hand moved downward to cup her bottom.

“Aurora,” he rasped as he kissed her neck, her ear. “Aurora.”

“Yes,” she sighed just before he reclaimed her mouth. This was more than the simple acknowledgment of interest she’d wanted—far more—but his enthusiasm sent a thrill of joy singing through her. All she could think was,
Don’t stop, don’t stop.

If he stopped, he’d start thinking, and that logical brain of his would come up with some reason why they shouldn’t be touching and kissing. But it felt so right! Couldn’t he feel it, too?

With her pulse drumming in her ears, she pressed her body along the full length of his, hoping to show him the answer was yes, yes to whatever he wanted,
yes
! They fit together so well, both of them tall and lean. She felt his erection rise against her belly and she moaned in approval. If just once in his life this man would act without thinking, they might get somewhere. Later, there would be time to think. Right now, she only wanted to feel.

Tugging the golf shirt free of his shorts, she gloried in the tautness of his muscles against her palm. His hands slipped beneath her shirt as well and a moan rumbled deep in his throat. When he kissed her again, with a hunger that left her dizzy, she guided his hand to her breast.

Don’t stop
, she tried to convey with her lips and her hands, the press of her body.

In answer, he bent and swept her into his arms to carry her. She broke the kiss long enough to gasp in surprise, then pressed her lips back to his. He walked only a short distance, to his bedroom she assumed, before he lowered her and she felt the give of a mattress beneath her.

The smooth cool spread welcomed her weight and she longed for the hardness of his body on top of hers. When it didn’t come, she looked at him and saw what she had feared. Doubt had replaced the hunger in his eyes.

No, don’t think!
she wanted to shout. Hoping to throw him off balance, she took off his glasses and tossed them aside. He started to protest, but she placed both hands on the sides of his head and brought his mouth down to hers.

He responded with gratifying speed as passion exploded. His long fingers attacked the buttons down the front of her shirt, and when he fumbled, she simply pulled the thing off and threw it over her head. His gaze landed on the swell of her breasts above the neon-green bra. She smiled, realizing his brain had finally given up the fight. He trailed kisses down her neck, and she arched to guide him to her satin-covered breasts. He cupped one in his large palm as his mouth moistened the nipple through the bra. Arousal rolled through her like a wave of heat.

Greedy for more, she tugged at his shirt, until they managed to pull it off together. He threw it aside. She ran her hands over his torso, thrilling to the ripple of his muscles. His body was so beautiful, so perfect.

He removed her bra and cool air brought her nipples to aching peaks. Then came the moist heat of his mouth. She all but melted into the bed from the pleasure of it.

Closing her eyes, she let her body sag into the mattress as he delighted her with his soft lips and the bold stroke of his hands. He molded her like putty, nipping her with his teeth, then soothing her with his tongue as he finished undressing her. The tension built deep within as he kissed her stomach. She writhed beneath him.
Oh, yes. Don’t stop.

His hand slipped down over her belly and between her thighs. Her hips shot upward on a gasp of welcome when he touched her. The world started to drop away and she grabbed fistfuls of the bedspread to hang on. She felt him focus all his attention on her as he concentrated on pleasing her. With his lips pressed just below her belly button, he brought her to the edge with those long skillful fingers.

“Oh, God,” she panted, and tried to reach for him, needing to feel his body over hers. “Chance, I need you. Now.”
Please, now.
But he continued his quest to drive her mad.

With some vague notion of ravishing him, she shoved at his shoulder, forced him onto his back where she attacked the button and zipper on his shorts. With one jerk, she stripped the shorts and briefs down his legs and tossed them away.

Then she turned back and saw him sprawled fully nude on the bed.
Oh, my.
He was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. His body sleek and refined, all of him gloriously proportioned to his long hands and feet, an image of masculine grace rather than raw power.

His eyes drank her in, as well, and dilated with desire. Reaching up, he pulled her back to him, wrapping her in his arms as he rolled her onto her back. Every touch of his hands, every brush of his lips, made her breath come faster until she felt dazed.

He settled between her thighs, and she gasped in joy at the first nudge of him against her. A swift thrust and the gasp turned to wonder at how quickly and deeply he possessed her.
Oh, my!
Gloriously proportioned, indeed. She laughed with relief to have him finally inside her.

With shared elation, they moved together, rolling across the mattress, desperate to touch and taste, both of them laughing now like children, until they suddenly dropped to the floor.

They landed with her on top, their bodies still linked, but barely. For a moment, she stared at his equally stunned face. His cheeks were flushed, his hair tousled, and she couldn’t help but smile. She’d always thought he’d look good rumpled, and she’d been right.

A devious feeling spread through her as she settled back over him. He groaned and gripped her hips in his wonderful hands to guide her as she began a slow, steady ride.

The pleasure built, in her heart as well as her loins, until she dropped her head back, closed her eyes and soared. The wonder burst around her, inside her, like a flash of colored light. She felt Chance arch up to join her—and for an instant, she felt as if his soul touched hers. She clung to the moment as long as she could. But when it faded, so did her strength. She collapsed against his chest, and let his arms enfold her.

For a long moment, Chance simply lay there, staring at the fuzzy ceiling, wondering what had happened. He remembered standing by the daybed, checking items off his list. Then he’d glanced up, into Aurora’s eyes. Desire had hit him like lightning. Everything after that was a frantic—fabulous—blur.

He blinked to focus his nearsighted vision, but it didn’t help. “Aurora?” he asked.

“Hmm?” she murmured against his chest.

“Are we on the floor?”

“Mmm.”

“How’d we wind up on the floor?”

“Hmm-mm.”

He turned his head to see her, and got a mouthful of hair. Battling the wild mass, he managed to uncover her face. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed. “Hey, you okay?”

“Mmmm.” A smile spread over her face, and he swore he’d never seen anything more breathtaking.

He kissed her forehead, and held her close for a moment, then eased her down to lie beside him. “Wait here. I’ll get a washcloth.”

First, though, he had to find his glasses. He finally unearthed them on the other side of the bed, beneath a pair of neon-green bikini panties. The memory of how she’d looked in the candy-colored underwear made his blood stir all over again. Smiling, he put on his glasses and padded barefoot to the bathroom where the glare of the light made him cringe.

As he cleaned himself off, he realized he hadn’t used a condom, which was completely unlike him. He never behaved so irresponsibly. Cursing himself, he rinsed the washcloth and returned to the bedroom. The sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks. His normally neat room looked as if a bomb had exploded. His shirt dangled from one corner of the now-crooked picture over the bed and Aurora’s green bra hung from his bedpost. In the midst of it all, Aurora lay curled up like a contented cat in the bedspread, which must have fallen to the floor with them.

The reality of what had just happened hit him full force. He, Oliver Chancellor, had made love to Aurora St. Claire.

If one could call that frenzied attack of lust “making love.” Amazing! How in the world had that happened?

And what in the world should he do about it?

Panic tried to gnaw its way into his stomach, but he whipped it back. He would handle this situation one step at a time, and the first step was to restore order. Out of order, a solution would be found.

Carrying the cloth, he knelt beside her, stopping for a moment to marvel at her satisfied expression. God, she was so beautiful with that long, tanned body of hers curled up in his navy blue bedspread. His gaze drifted down the length of her, and something more profound than desire warmed him. This gorgeous, vibrant, incredible woman had shared her body with him.

Trying to disturb her as little as possible, he set aside the washcloth and gathered her in his arms. She moaned in sleepy protest as he laid her on the bed beneath the sheet, then he retrieved the bedspread and settled it over her. He should probably wake her. But if he did, she might start talking. The possibilities of what she’d say had the panic clawing back into his stomach and right up to his chest.

Would she expect them to have a relationship now? Something more than him helping her get her business started? Surely she realized how ill suited they were for each other—no matter how incredible the last few minutes had been.

He clung to that hope as he climbed into bed beside her. Setting his glasses on the nightstand, he promised himself he wouldn’t stay there long, but he needed a minute to collect himself, just a minute or two to think of what he’d say. Somehow he’d explain that what had just happened was a dream come true for him, but it didn’t change who they were, or the fact that life had set them on different paths. It was all so logical, though, surely she’d see his point without any messy emotions or hurt feelings getting involved.