Janelle Denison - Forbidden

His heart wrenched in his chest. He brushed the moisture away with his thumb, wondering at the source of those tears. “Paige?” he questioned.

A watery smile curved her mouth. “Don’t ask me to explain what even I don’t understand,” she said, brushing her fingers along his jaw, right where she’d walloped him earlier. Her touch was soothing, but the look in her eyes was troubled. “Let’s chalk it up to a very emotional night.”

Her tears were a natural release after everything she’d been through that evening, he told himself, but he couldn’t help but wonder, and worry, about the change to their relationship after what they’d just shared. They’d crossed boundaries and become lovers in a time of need. What would happen now? Would this be a one-night stand, or the beginning of something special for them?

Tomorrow would tell.

That simple thought led to another more complicated issue-the fact that he’d yet to tell Paige that Anthony’s perfidy had put her life at risk.

Knowing her fragile emotional state couldn’t withstand more shocking news, he decided the morning would be soon enough to discuss things. Moving off her, he stood. She sat up, too, reaching for her sweater.

He found her bout of modesty endearing, but unnecessary. “You don’t need that, sweetheart. I’ve seen everything there is to see.” Catching her hand before it closed around the article of clothing, he gave her an easy tug until she was standing before him in all her naked glory.

Letting out a breath that did nothing to ease the surge of heat heading straight to his groin, he glanced away and started toward the hall, pulling her along. “Come on, let’s put you to bed.”

She’d transformed the master bedroom from what had been a masculine domain into a feminine haven, her touch evident throughout. The furniture was frilly and Victorian, as was the four-poster bed. Lacy curtains framed the window, and the bedspread was made of mauve silk with matching ruffled pillows, which he tossed onto the brocade chair in the corner of the room. He pulled back the covers, waited until she slipped between the sheets, then adjusted the blanket around her shoulders.

“Get some rest, Paige,” he said, and couldn’t resist sliding his fingers through her silky hair one last time. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

He started back out of the room, but her husky voice halted him before he could retreat.

“Josh?”

He stopped and glanced back at her, though all he could see in the darkness was a huddled form beneath the covers. “Yeah?”

She hesitated, then, “Will you stay with me tonight and just hold me?”

It was the last thing he expected, and the last thing he’d refuse. “Let me take care of the fire, and I’ll be back, okay?”

“Okay.”

Less than five minutes later he returned, sliding into bed next to her. He snuggled up behind her, his muscular body pressing against soft womanly curves. Wrapping his arms securely around her waist, he cocooned their bodies in a warm, trusting intimacy. Long after Paige had fallen asleep, he savored the feel of her in his arms.

And realized he never wanted to let her go.

PAIGE OPENED HER EYES, blinked, then groaned and squinted at the slivers of sunshine filtering through the shutters covering her window. Stretching the kinks from her body, she rolled over to face the other side of the bed, expecting to find Josh sleeping beside her.

She was alone.

Raising herself on her forearm, she pushed her tangled hair from her face and glanced around the room, listening carefully for any signs of life beyond her closed bedroom door. The house was still and quiet, and everything outside was calm, making her wonder if the storm and Josh’s visit last night had all been a dream. A dream that had begun with devastating news surrounding Anthony’s death, and had ended with an incredibly erotic night of making love to Josh.

Still hovering between the lassitude of sleep and full wakefulness, she slid out of bed and headed to the bathroom, certain the whole episode had been some kind of bizarre illusion.

But it had seemed so real…

Switching on the light, she caught sight of her reflection in the large mirror over the dual-sink vanity. She was naked. That revelation was enough to cause a stirring of alarm, considering she never slept in the nude.

Bits and pieces flooded her mind, solidifying facts and wiping away any last remnants of slumber. Last night hadn’t been a figment of her imagination. The proof mocked her-in the form of red patches on her skin caused by the light stubble that had been on Josh’s jaw. She was marked everywhere! Branded by whisker bums!

She touched the abrasion on her neck; it was warm to the touch and a little sensitive. Her fingers fluttered lower, to the chafed skin on her breasts. Vivid memories leapt to life, of Josh rubbing his cheek gently against the plump flesh before flicking his tongue over her nipple. And then there were the pink scratches on her flat belly, and more evidence of whisker burn between her thighs. She lightly touched those scrapes, remembering how the raspy sensation had aroused her as much as his mouth and hands had, and recalling her shameless response to the wicked things he’d done to her.

A shudder rippled through her, and a low groan caught in her throat. She closed her eyes as much to shut out the arousing memories assaulting her senses, as to block out how rumpled and wanton she looked.

But she couldn’t forget.

Another vision intruded, the image wispy and fleeting, like a dream. Only it hadn’t been a dream, but reality in its purest sense. She’d slowly woken in the middle of the night, feeling lethargic but very aware of a large hand fondling her breasts and the press of an erection nestled against her bottom.

She recalled thinking she wanted him. Again. With the same desperation as the first time. But he’d gently eased her onto her belly, followed her with the length of his body, and whispered in her ear that this time they were going to take it slow and easy.

He’d made love to her lazily, their bodies so in sync, it was hard to believe they’d been lovers for just one night His lips pressed damp kisses on her neck, his tongue traced the shell of her ear. When he’d murmured so sexily, “Come for me,” she’d unraveled and had done just that. He was with her all the way, taking them up that crest at a leisurely pace that drew out the pleasurable sensations shimmering between them.

Paige opened her eyes and stared at her horrified expression. She pressed her palms to her flushed cheeks. Oh, Lord, what had they done? What had she done? In a moment of weakness she’d sought comfort in Josh’s arms, had bared herself emotionally and physically. His healing touch had been like a balm to her battered and bruised heart. He’d made love to her as if she were the only woman left on earth, had settled for no less than her full surrender.

In return, she’d given him her body, her heart, and the part of her soul that had been lost for so long. She’d always cared for Josh, possibly even loved him on some level beyond friendship. Last night had been a culmination of those feelings. She’d needed him as much as he’d needed her-needed to feel something other than the pain of Anthony’s deception. Making love with Josh had wiped out the horrible truth about her husband for a few hours. With Josh, she’d felt more alive and desirable than she had in the past three years.

But it couldn’t, and wouldn’t , happen again. No matter what had transpired between them last night, no matter that Josh had claimed a part of her Anthony never had, involving herself with Josh beyond a platonic friendship was pure madness. Sheer stupidity. It had taken her three months to make difficult decisions about her future and decide what she wanted to do now that she had nothing substantial left to keep her ied to Miami. Especially when her entire family lived n Connecticut. The last thing she needed was her bloscoming feelings for Josh to get in the way of her plans-plans she intended to expedite as a result of last night’s encounter.