“I’m here. Right here.”

“Bess.” His mouth moved from hers to skim along those sharp cheekbones. “I’m in love with you.”

She felt her heart stutter. That was the only way she could describe this sensation she’d never experienced before. “Alexi—”

“Don’t.” He closed his mouth over hers again. “Don’t say it. It comes too easy to you. Just come to bed.” He buried his face against her neck. “For God’s sake, let me take you to bed.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Hurt. Oh, she’d read the stories and the poetry, watched the movies. She’d even written the scenes. But she’d never believed that love and pain existed together, could twine into one clenched fist to batter the soul.

Yet his words had hurt her—immeasurably—even as her heart opened to give and accept.

This time it was different. How could she possibly explain that to him, when she was still groping for the answers herself? And what good were words now, when there was so much need?

A touch would be enough, she promised herself as they swayed toward the steps. Tonight would be enough, and tomorrow all the aches would only be memories.

His mouth came back to hers, restless, insistent, as they began the climb. The first helpless sigh caught in her throat as he pulled her close and aroused her unbearably with a long, sumptuous meeting of lips.

Her fingers trembled when she tugged at his jacket. Had they ever trembled for a man before? she wondered. No. And as the leather slid away, leaving her free to grip those magnificent shoulders, she knew that none of this had happened before. Not the trembling, not the raw scrape of nerves, not the sting of bright tears, not the sweet, slow throb of her blood.

This was the first time for so many things.

He didn’t know how much longer he could perform the simple act of drawing breath in and out of his lungs. Not when her body was shivering against his. Not when he could hear those small, desperately needy sounds in her throat. The staircase seemed to stretch interminably. With a muffled oath, he swept her up into his arms.

Her eyes met his, and though her heart seemed ready to burst, she managed to smile. She knew he needed smiles tonight. “And I said you weren’t romantic.”

“I have my moments.”

Shaky, she nuzzled her face into the curve of his neck. “I’m awfully glad I’m here for this one.”

“Keep it up,” he said in a strained voice as she ran nibbling kisses from throat to ear, “and I’ll do something really romantic, like falling on my face and dropping you.”

“Oh, I trust you, Detective.” She caught the lobe of his ear in her teeth and felt the quick jerk of reaction. “Completely.”

With his heart roaring in his head, he reached the top. She was teasing his jawline now, making little murmurs of approval as she sampled his flesh. He headed for the first door. “This better be the bedroom.”