He had a feeling that she didn’t have a clue and he didn’t want to embarrass her. He liked the fact that she seemed to have lost some of her wariness around him.

He closed his eyes and tried to think of something suitably neutral and boring, something that didn’t involve being semi-naked while Jenny rubbed oil into his body.

Even so, the first touch of her hands on his skin made him groan and he knew that if her intention was to make him relax, she’d chosen the wrong activity. There was no way he would ever be able to relax while Jenny was sliding her palms over his shoulders in such a seductive fashion.

He never would have guessed that she had such good hands.

She hadn’t seemed a particularly tactile person—at least, not with him.

But her hands slid over him in a smooth, seamless motion that ignited the most wicked of fantasies in his active mind. She had the most incredible touch.

The touch of a lover.

He lay still, his eyes closed as she worked on his shoulders and then moved slowly down his back.

She didn’t speak and the silence merely intensified the erotic thoughts throbbing in his brain.

Her hands slid smoothly over his body, gliding lower, and he groaned again.

She paused. ‘Am I hurting you?’

She really had no idea.

He decided enough was enough and rolled onto his back, his jaw tense and his eyes closed.

‘I think you’d better stop.’

She frowned, puzzled. ‘But—’

His eyes opened and what she read in them must have made an impact because she sucked in a breath.

‘Run, Red Riding Hood,’ he said softly, his gaze fixed on her face. ‘Run while you still can.’

She froze then, her green eyes locked on his. But she didn’t seem able to move. She reminded him of a delicate, gentle animal who has just realised that she’s been playing with the ultimate predator.

Torn between fascination and terror.

He gritted his teeth and fought the very male impulse to grab her and roll her under him.

‘Go, Jenny,’ he said hoarsely. ‘For heaven’s sake, just go.’

She spoke then, her voice breathy and very feminine. ‘I’m sorry if I did something wrong…’

Damn. She should be running to her room and locking the door behind her.

‘You didn’t do anything wrong.’

‘But—’

She obviously had no idea of the danger she was in.

Swearing softly under his breath, he reached for her and pulled her down, rolling her under him as he’d been dying to do from the moment she’d lit the candles.

Or maybe from before that. He didn’t know. All he knew was that he wanted Jenny and that she wasn’t running fast enough.

‘You should have run, Red Riding Hood, while you had the chance.’

She stared up at him, her breath coming in little pants, her pupils dilated. ‘I can’t run…’

‘Well, you should,’ he growled, lifting a hand and pulling her hair out of the clip that she always wore. He combed his fingers through the silky strands of dark hair, deciding that he’d never felt anything so soft and smooth. ‘Push me away, Jenny.’