took her in his arms. He heard her instinctive intake of breath, saw the alarm widening her eyes as she lifted her head to protest, a protest that was smothered when his mouth covered hers.
She jerked in his arms, and he gently controlled the action, pulling her even more firmly against him. He took care not to hurt her but deepened the insistent pressure of his mouth until he felt her own mouth yield and open. The sweetness of her lips sent an electrical thrill along his nerves, tightening his muscles and swelling his sex. He took her mouth with his tongue, holding her still for the imitative sexual possession, repeating the motion again and again, until she shivered and softened in his arms, her lips beginning to cling to his.
Her tentative response made his head swim, and to his surprise he had to struggle to maintain his control. But she felt perfect in his arms, damn her, all those soft, luscious curves molding to the hard, muscled planes of his body. Her mouth was sweeter than any he had ever tasted before, and the simple act of kissing her was arousing him to an unbelievable degree.
He didn’t want to stop. He hadn’t planned to do more than kiss her, but he hadn’t expected the intensity of his own response. His mouth crushed fiercely down on hers, demanding even more. He heard the soft, helpless sound she made in her throat; then her arms lifted around his neck, and she pressed full length against him. Pure, primitive male triumph roared through him at this evidence of her own arousal. He could feel her breasts, round and firm, the nipples hard against his chest, and he slipped his hand under her shirt to cup one of them, his thumb rubbing across the peaked nipple through the thin lace of her bra. Her body arched, her hips pressing hard against his…and then suddenly she was fighting, panicked, trying to squirm free.
He let her go, though every cell in his body was screaming for more. “Easy,” he managed to say, but the word was low and rough and his breath was uneven. He tried for a more controlled reassurance. “I won’t hurt you, sweetheart.”
Evie had backed away from him, her face pale but her lips swollen and red from his kisses. She forced herself to stop retreating, to stand her ground and face him. The sensual pull of his masculinity was almost overwhelming, tempting her to go back into those arms, to yield to that fierce domination. She felt a sense of doom; he was far more dangerous to her than she had first suspected.
“Yes, you will,” she whispered. Her teeth were chattering. “Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?”
Chapter Five
She looked ready to bolt. To soothe her, he moved back a few paces and let his hands relax at his sides. His eyes gleamed with faint irony. “You’re a lovely woman, sweetheart. Surely you aren’t surprised that I’m attracted to you? As for what I want from you, I was holding you closely enough that the answer to that question should have been obvious.”
She didn’t respond to his gentle teasing. Instead her somber gaze remained locked on his face, trying to probe beneath that smooth, urbane sophistication. He was very cosmopolitan, beyond a doubt, but he used that slick surface as a shield to hide the real man, the man who had kissed her with such ruthless passion. There were many hidden layers to him, his motives complex and unfathomable. Yes, he was attracted to her, as she was to him. It would be foolish to deny her own participation, and Evie wasn’t a foolish woman. But she always had the feeling that he was studying her, manipulating her in some subtle manner. From the very first she had sensed his determination to force himself into her life, and he was doing exactly that with a calm force of will that refused to be denied. Whatever his motive, it was something that went beyond the physical.
“I don’t have casual sex,” she said.
He almost smiled. It was merely an expression in those pale eyes, rather than an actual movement of his mouth. “My dear, I promise you there wouldn’t be anything casual about it.” He paused. “Are you involved with someone else?”
She shook her head. “No.”
He wasn’t surprised that she had denied any involvement with Mercer. “Then we don’t have a problem, do we? You can’t say that you aren’t attracted to me, too.”
She lifted her chin, and his pale eyes gleamed at that proud motion. “That velvet glove covers an iron fist, doesn’t it?” she commented neutrally. “No, I can’t say that I’m not attracted to you.”
Her perception disturbed him, a reaction that he didn’t allow to surface. “I can be determined when I want something…or someone.”
She made an abrupt motion, as if tiring of the verbal jousting. “I phrased it wrong. I don’t have affairs, either.”
“A wise decision, but in this case too restrictive.” He approached her now, and she didn’t retreat. Gently he cupped her face with one long-fingered hand, his fingers stroking over the velvety texture of her cheek. God, she was lovely, not classically beautiful, but glowing with an intensely female seductiveness that made him think her name was very apt indeed. So must Eve have been, glorious in her nudity. No wonder Adam had been so easily led, a weakness he wouldn’t allow himself, though he intended to fully enjoy Evie’s sensuality. Her sweet, warm scent wafted up to him. “I won’t force you,” he murmured. “But I will have you.”
“If you won’t use force, how do you intend to go about it?” she asked.
His eyebrows lifted. “You think I should warn you?”
“Yes.”
“An interesting notion, but one I’m going to leave untried.” He rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. “For now, sweetheart, we’d better get back to the marina. You have a business to run, and I have a boat to get into a slip.”
He let his hand drop as he spoke, and Evie turned from him with relief, as if she had been released from a force field. Her face tingled where he had touched her, and she remembered the electric sensation when he had put his hand on her breast. His boldness spoke of vast experience and self-confidence with women, something that put her at a disadvantage.
They were both silent on the drive back to the marina. She was vaguely surprised to see how late it was, the sun dipping low even for these long summer days. The sultry heat hadn’t abated, though there was a hint of purple on the horizon that gave the promise of a cooling rain shower.
Robert’s speedboat, a sleek, dark eighteen-footer, was still where he had left it, hitched to a black Jeep Renegade. Thank heavens it hadn’t been blocking the launch ramps, or Craig would have had a mess on his hands. She hurried into the marina office, and Craig looked up from the sports magazine he was reading. “Is everything okay?” he asked, getting to his feet. “The kids said that Jason nearly drowned.”
“He has a concussion, but he’ll go home tomorrow,” she said.
“Thanks for coming in. I’m sorry for wrecking your day.”
“No problem,” he said cheerfully. He was seventeen, a tall, muscular, dark-haired kid who would be a senior when the new school year started. He had been working part-time for her for almost two years and was so steady that she had no qualms about leaving him in charge. “Say, what about that new boat outside?”
“It’s mine,” Robert said, stepping inside. “I’ll be renting a slip here.” He held out his hand. “I’m Robert Cannon.”
Craig took his hand with a firm grip. “Craig Foster. Glad to meet you, Mr. Cannon. You must be the guy who pulled Evie and Jason out of the water. The kids said it was a tall Yankee.”
“I’m the guy,” Robert affirmed, amusement in his eyes.
“Thought so. Want me to help you get the boat into a slip?”
“I can do it,” Evie said. “I’ve taken enough time out of your day.”
“You pay me for it,” Craig replied, grinning. “I might as well, since I’m already here. Mom won’t be expecting me back until supper, anyway.” He and Robert left, chatting companionably.
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