he was almost thirteen years old, helping him to care about life again after his father’s private jet crashed during an impulsive weekend ski trip to Vail. Seamus was the only family Michael had left in the world—the only family that counted, anyway. And he damn well intended to do whatever it took to protect the old man.
Michael raked the end of the bronze spear across his back, moaning aloud with pleasure as he satisfied the itch that had plagued him all evening. The spear had brought close to two thousand dollars at a Sotheby’s auction—one hell of an expensive back scratcher.
Music floated up from the ballroom two floors below and he knew he should return to the party until the last guest walked out the door. But he just couldn’t stand the thought of putting that suffocating wolf costume back on. Or making small talk. Or parrying the flirtations of the inebriated women downstairs.
There was only one woman he wanted.
Smoothing one hand over his bare chest, he wished like hell he’d never stopped kissing her. But Michael didn’t believe in regrets. Time to forget about her and move on. He’d done it before.
He laid the spear on top of his dresser, then padded over to the window to open the drapes. Moonlight cast an ethereal glow over the room. He turned to switch off the lamp and, for the first time, he caught a vanilla scent in the air that reminded him of Little Red Riding Hood. Her perfume must have clung to his costume.
Picking up the furry shirt, he held it to his nose and inhaled deeply. But all it did was make him sneeze. “Give it up, Wolff,” he muttered, dropping the shirt on the floor once more.
He padded barefoot to the ridiculous harem tent bed, already dreading the long day that lay ahead tomorrow. His grandfather would be coming home from the hospital, and that would make him vulnerable to another “accident.” Michael would have to be more vigilant than ever.
As he pulled back the heavy gold canopy drape, the alluring vanilla scent assailed him again, only much stronger now. He blinked when he saw the reason for it sitting on his bed.
Red had ventured into his lair after all.
THIS WAS NOT GOOD.
Sarah should have realized her mission to return the diamond necklace was doomed when that stupid flashlight didn’t work.
No, even before that, when she’d found the back stairway under construction. She should have turned around at that moment and walked right out the door. Now she had to find some way to extricate herself from this sensitive situation before Michael got the wrong idea.
Judging by his expression, it was already too late. “My, what big eyes you have,” he said, standing beside the bed in nothing but a pair of black boxer shorts. The sight of his powerful body sent her already frazzled nerves into complete disarray.
Sarah could hardly think straight, much less speak. At last she recovered enough to form a sentence. “I think that’s my line.”
His brawny shoulders and rippling muscles belied the fact that this man worked behind a desk. The dark, silky hair matting his chest tantalized her, but her hands fisted into the sheets as he loomed closer. She knew he’d be as dangerous to touch as a real wolf.
It was a danger that strangely appealed to her.
Sarah sucked in a deep breath. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“But I’m so glad you are.” He reached out one broad hand and lightly traced the length of the red glove encasing her left arm.
His touch was hypnotic. Her gaze followed his hand as it trailed up her forearm, then down again. She should make some kind of excuse, jump out of this bed and run right out the door.
Only the diamond necklace was still in her picnic basket, and that basket sat directly beneath the safe. If she left it behind, could Michael find a way to trace it to her? She needed time to think. A new plan.
But thought became impossible when Michael leaned even closer, the canopy drape falling closed behind him so that they were now enclosed in silky darkness. Only the barest hint of light glowed behind the golden drapes.
Michael’s face was hidden in the shadows, which just made everything seem more unreal. More dreamlike.
Until he kissed her. The taste of him was very real. Dizzying. Delicious. His warm, firm mouth skimmed her lips in a way that actually made her lean into him for more.
A low growl rumbled in his throat as he deepened the kiss and she had to grab his broad shoulders to keep from falling back on the bed. Her fingers encountered warm skin and hard muscle that flexed beneath her touch.
Michael moved beside her on the bed, never breaking the kiss, as his fingers slid down the length of her throat to the bow tied at the collar of her cloak. He worked it with his fingers until it loosened, the fabric gaping to reveal the red silk blouse she wore underneath.
He broke the kiss and used both hands to reverently lower the hood, revealing her hair tied back in a ponytail. He released it, so that her wayward dark curls hung about her face. Winding one loosely around his index finger, he brushed it against the rough whiskers on his jaw.
“Soft.” His voice was husky, his eyes intense.
Desire pooled low in her belly as Michael slid her cloak off her shoulders, his hungry gaze roaming over her body.
Sarah reached out one hand, but instead of pushing him away, she placed her palm flat against his chest. The silky hair there trickled between her fingers. Her touch made his chest muscles contract and she could feel the fast gallop of his heart beneath her hand.
Almost as fast as her own. “My, what big muscles you have,” she whispered, knowing instinctively how risky it was to tease a wolf. But Sarah couldn’t seem to stop herself. She didn’t want to stop.
“All the better to hold you with, my dear.” Then Michael kissed her again, even more hungrily this time. He enveloped her shoulders with his grip, the warmth of his big hands seeping through the thin silk of her blouse.
He pulled her closer, until her body was flush against his own. Silk against skin. Soft against hard. The intimate contact made her long for more. Made her forget everything but this man. This moment.
As his mouth devoured her, his fingers stalked the buttons of her blouse. The zipper on her skirt. Until she wore nothing but her lacy red bra and panties, lingerie bought on a whim yesterday to implement her New Year’s resolution to take more risks. No more boring beige underwear.
No more boring beige life.
“My, what big hands you have,” she gasped as his touches became more intimate.
She could sense rather than see his predatory smile.
“All the better to ravish you with, my dear.”
Then he did just that, but with a fierce tenderness that both touched and aroused her. Michael’s big hands peeled away her bra with such sensual skill that Sarah thought she must be dreaming.
Then those incredible hands moved lower.
A midnight madness now consumed her and she simply couldn’t think at all anymore. Only feel. The hard length of his body pressed against her. The skilled pressure of his hands. The urgent heat of his kisses.
Soon they were both naked. Both voracious. Both hunting for the pleasure they knew they’d only find in each other.
Michael tasted every inch of her. His tongue stroking her breasts. Her belly. The inside of her thighs. His ravenous exploration of her body driving her wild. A wildness he seemed to share when she did the same to him.
“Oh, Red,” he moaned, his breath coming in short pants as her hair swept over his belly. Strangled groans of desire emanated from deep in his chest.
At last, Michael pulled her up to kiss him. Frantically. Reverently. Her naked body now lay atop his own and she wasn’t surprised to find they fit perfectly together.
Then he rolled her under