“I have to think. This could be a mistake.” But even as she said it, her mouth was moving hungrily over his. “I hate to make mistakes.”

“Mmm … Who doesn’t?” He cupped his hands under her hips. With a murmur of acceptance, she scooted up, wrapping her legs around his waist. “This isn’t one.”

“I’ll figure it out later,” she said as he carried her out of the kitchen. “I really don’t want this to mess up the other business. It’s too important. I want that to work, I really want that to work, and I’d hate myself if I messed it up just because …”

On a groan, she pressed her mouth to his throat. “I want you. I want you so much.”

Her words started a drumbeat in his head, slow, rhythmic, seductive. He dragged her head back with one hand so that he could plunder her mouth. “One has nothing to do with the other.”

“It could.” She rocked against him as he started up the steps. Her breath was already coming in pants as her eyes met his. “It should.”

“Then so be it.” He kicked open the door to the bedroom. “Let’s break some rules.”

Chapter 8

She had never been one to throw caution to the winds. To take risks, certainly, but always knowing the consequences. There was no way to figure the odds now, not with him. Again, it was up to instinct. Although her head told her to cut her losses and run, something else, something closer to the bone, urged her to stay.

To trust.

She was still wrapped around him, throbbing at every point a pulse could beat. It wasn’t shyness that had her hesitating. She had never considered herself overly sexual or more than average in looks, so she felt she had nothing to be shy about. It was a sudden certainty that this was vital that had her taking one last long look at him.

And what she saw was exactly what she wanted.

Her lips curved slowly. When she started to slide down him, he braced her back against the bedpost so that when her feet touched the floor she was trapped between the smooth, carved wood and his body.

His eyes stayed on hers as his hands moved slowly upward, fingertips sliding over thighs, hips, the sides of her breasts, her throat, temples. She shuddered once before his fists closed, viselike, in her hair and his mouth crushed down on hers.

His body was pressed against her so truly that she felt every line and curve. She sensed that the power inside it was that of a wolf on a leash, ready to tear free. But it was his mouth that drove her mind to the edge of reason. Insatiable and possessive, it drew from hers every nuance of emotion. Desires and doubts, fears and longings. She felt her will being passed to him like a gift.