her, yet he obviously liked what he saw. She’d never seen a man react that way—not to her. She couldn’t speak, her voice was trapped in her throat.
He whispered softly, “You’re beautiful.”
Her eyes shifted nervously with the racing of her heart. Brenda had said men would find her attractive, but.... She hadn’t believed her, not really. Usually, Tyler never looked at her twice, but then, he’d never seen her dressed like this.
The costume was definitely a mistake.
Tyler was still watching her, and she inhaled. She had to say something. “You look...dangerous.”
His teeth flashed in a quick grin. “Not dashing?”
Confused, she shook her head. In an even lower tone, sounding of accusation and anticipation, she asked, “What happened to your date?”
He tipped his head, as if he was straining to hear her, then carefully stepped away from the door. “She wasn’t my date.”
Liar, she thought. A man like him wouldn’t come to a party alone. He attracted beautiful women without even trying. And Valerie Rush was certainly that—beautiful, chic, sophisticated and very sure of her own appeal. She was everything Carlie was not.
So why was Tyler here now? She’d always been aware of him; he was impossible to ignore. Dark, charming, a devastating man. But completely unattainable. At least for her.
Of course, after her disastrous marriage, she didn’t want any man, not even Tyler Ramsey.
He took another step forward when she remained silent, and she went back one, bumping into the wall.
He was watching her so very closely, almost stalking her, and she could feel her chest shuddering, straining for air. She trembled inside, feeling light-headed and so conscious of him as a male. She didn’t dare take her eyes off him.
He took another step.
The rain was coming down more heavily now, tapping against the windows and the wind had begun to whistle. Carlie was glad for the darkness. She didn’t want reality to intrude too quickly. She didn’t want him to recognize her. Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
He started to reach for her, then dropped his hand. “Do you know who I am?”
She shook her head. “No.” She didn’t know this man at all, so intense and attentive, exuding raw sexuality. The air was filled with his scent, his purpose.
His eyes drifted over her body again, then he stared intently into hers.
She didn’t dare say anything. What was there to say? He wasn’t reacting to Carlie McDaniels. He was reacting to the night; to the atmosphere and the mystery of a masquerade. If he knew who she was, he’d lose interest quickly enough. He’d give her that same polite nod she’d always received from him, then go on his way.
Tyler stepped toward her and she balked, feeling her back against the wall. It would be mortifying for him to realize her identity now, with her acting like such a ninny. She was a professional woman, a teacher, mature and capable. And here she was, behaving like a coward. A virgin coward.
She knew in that instant, she wouldn’t tell him. He would never find out who she was. She had to leave, had to...
His hand caught her arm. “Wait. Please.”
She trembled, trying to pull loose, stunned by the strength of his grasp.
He released her instantly. Holding his hands out to the sides, he tried to softly reassure her. “It’s okay. I’m sorry.” She trembled again, and he said, “You’re cold.”
Swamped with uncertainty, wanting to do one thing, but knowing she should do another, Carlie turned away. Then Tyler was behind her, not touching her, but the warmth of his body surrounded her. She felt a pulse beat of heat run through her, swirling in her belly. The feeling was unfamiliar...and exciting. As his breath brushed her nape, she shivered with growing sensation.
His palms grazed her shoulders, smoothing away the chills and the dampness from the rain, warming her. She was surrounded by him, by his scent.
His touch was tentative, careful, and when she didn’t move, he leaned closer, his chest barely touching her back, his thighs brushing her own. She shuddered.
His fingers continued to stroke, feather-light, up and down her arms. He drew in a slow, rough breath, then molded his hands over her shoulders, holding her. She felt his suspended breathing, his hesitation. And when he finally spoke, his voice was low and unsteady.
“I want you. I think I wanted you the moment I saw you.”
She stilled as his lips very lightly touched the side of her neck. Slowly, he drew her toward him, her back against his chest, then waited, keeping her pressed close to his solid length.
“I want you,” he repeated. “Stay with me.”
Only in her wildest imaginings had she ever considered Tyler saying such a thing to her. It was unbelievable. It was outrageous.
It was her own private fantasy.
She swallowed hard, squeezed her eyes shut, then whispered, “I want you, too.”
TILTING HIS HEAD BACK, Tyler exhaled slowly, then tried to relax. It was unbelievable how much her answer meant to him. She was staying.
He didn’t understand his own reaction, or hers, for that matter. He only knew he needed to get closer to her. She’d stood there in the doorway earlier, looking feminine, yet so unsure. Unlike the other women in the room, she hadn’t flaunted her assets; she hadn’t even seemed aware of them, despite the provocative harem costume that left her more bare than not. Even now, she seemed so vulnerable, so wary.
He leaned down, inhaling her fragrance, then touched his open palm to her soft belly. She jerked and pulled away.
He was surprised by her reaction, and forced himself to go perfectly still. He squeezed her shoulders again. “Shh. I’m not going to hurt you.” She remained strangely quiet, her body trembling, and then it hit him just how innocent she truly was. Suddenly, it made sense—the way she’d reacted to his interest. She was wary, and with good reason. He felt confusion first, then the unfamiliar stirring of protectiveness. He didn’t want to frighten her, didn’t want her to be uncomfortable with him. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her carefully.
“I would never hurt you.”
Her hands came up to clasp his arms where they crossed her chest, giving him her silent trust.
His chest squeezed tight. It was remarkable how she affected him. Smiling, he rubbed his chin against her temple, then turned her to face him.
He cupped her jaw, tilting her chin toward him. He could see the scant light reflected in her wide eyes. Slowly, tentatively, he bent and put his lips to hers. It wasn’t a devouring kiss, but tender and sweet. She seemed unsure of where to put her hands, then laid them lightly on his chest.
He groaned quietly, tugging her closer. “Open your mouth,” he urged, continuing to nibble at her lips.
She did, gasping, and he teased her, stroking her mouth, licking carefully at her lips, touching her tongue with his own.
After a few moments, he pulled back. Her fingers had curled tight against him, and she was panting softly. Instinctively, he pressed his arousal, full and hard, against her belly. She seemed stunned by his blatant need, and he relished her reaction to it, watching her eyes slowly close. Nothing had ever made him feel so wild or urgent, so alive with sensation, as her innocent acceptance.
Her mask was in the way and he touched his fingers to it. Instantly, she jerked back, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.
His muscles