Janelle Denison - Too Wilde to Tame

That final recollection made him smile to himself and think of all the different, uninhibited ways they'd made love. He'd always known Mia was a vibrant woman, but last night she'd exceeded his expectations. She had an incredible amount of passion and an abundance of energy when it came to sex, and she was an adventurous lover. There wasn't anything he'd asked for that she'd denied him. No request made her blush. No invitation she refused.

Simply put, she was a man's dream between the sheets.

His dream. His fantasy woman come to life. A temptress who knew exactly how to turn him inside out with lust and a need unlike anything he'd ever known. A shameless nymph who wasn't afraid to go after what brought her the greatest pleasure. Physically, they were a match made in heaven.

Emotionally, however, she shook him up inside and left him reeling… and trying to decipher exactly what it was about her that affected him so profoundly. Unfortunately, he had no definite answers for that question, but he was coming to realize, and accept, that she was starting to mean more to him than a brief fling. And he had no idea what he was going to do about that, especially when a long-term commitment between the two of them was highly unlikely.

With a low exhale, he turned his head and glanced toward Mia's side of the bed, where she was still fast asleep. Her silky black hair was tousled over her pillow and around her face in a wild disarray, and the sheet was twisted around her naked body. She was on her side in a fetal position, with her arms pulled in tight against her chest and her knees raised up high against her stomach-as if protecting herself in her sleep or maybe to keep anyone from getting too close emotionally.

Even in sleep, she was such a paradox. She'd been confident and assertive last night, but now she looked vulnerable and almost childlike. And while most women wanted to cuddle after sex, once Mia thought he'd fallen asleep, he'd felt her move out of his arms and curl up by herself.

He thought it interesting that she didn't desire the simple human need to be held. He wondered if she felt stifled when she should have felt comforted. Instead, it was as if she preferred to be alone. He wondered if that's how it had always been for her, if being alone was all she'd known. Was she afraid of relying on one particular person too much, even for something as simple as tenderness and a warm, secure embrace? Or was he reading too much in to her actions?

She had three brothers who loved her very much, that much was obvious to anyone who knew her family. Three brothers and three cousins who took their job of taking care of her, and protecting her, very seriously. So this need to be self-sufficient obviously stemmed from something else that had happened in her life.

As he folded his hands behind his head and continued to watch her sleep, he wondered if he'd ever figure her out and then realized that was such a part of her allure and what intrigued him so much. All those facets and layers showed him that the person she presented to the outside world wasn't necessarily who she was inside.

Finally, nature called and he slid as quietly as he could off the mattress, then headed to the adjoining bathroom. On the way out he found his jeans on the floor and pulled them on, figuring he'd go and make a pot of coffee and watch TV in the living room until Mia finally roused herself from sleep.

But as he fastened the top button to his pants, he caught sight of a drafting table, which wasn't something a woman normally had in her bedroom. Last night the room had been shadowed and dim and his sole focus had been on Mia, but in the morning light, the drafting table piqued his curiosity, especially considering Mia worked as a secretary for her family's tile company. And as far as he knew, her duties didn't require such a large, oversized desk for her to use at home.

He moved closer and glanced at the drawings laid out on the surface, surprised at the talent evident in each one. Some were completed, others only half finished, but all of them were beautifully drawn with eye-catching and vivid details. Some of the pictures were floral designs, others of exotic animals, and some abstract. A few of the sketches were filled in with colored pencils, giving the picture a striking dimension that was sharp and rich looking.

Hearing a rustling sound from the bed, he glanced in that direction and found Mia gradually coming awake. She uncurled her body and stretched with her arms over her head, drawing his eyes to the way the sheet pulled tight across her full breasts and over the curve of her hip. His groin stirred-no big surprise there-and he forced his gaze back up to her face, which was beautifully flushed and glowing with sexual satisfaction.

His heart skipped an odd little beat in his chest, and he grinned at her. "Good morning."

She blinked slumberously, her lashes still weighing heavily with sleep. '"Morning," she murmured and then sighed blissfully, the sound rife with utter contentment.

A contentment he was solely responsible for.

As if he'd spoken his thoughts out loud, one of her eyes peeped open at him. "There you go again with that smug look," she said, the soft accusation in her tone tempered with humor.

He leaned his backside against the table and crossed his arms over his bare chest. "Can you really blame me?"

"I suppose not," she admitted softly, huskily. "You were pretty amazing last night, and you did manage to prove, numerous times, that you sure do know how to rise to a challenge."

"Believe me, the pleasure was all mine." He winked at her and then swept a hand across the surface of the drafting table. "I was just looking at these drawings. What are they for?"

The light-heartedness between them faded as he watched her expression shut him out and she started to withdraw-from him and the new topic of conversation he'd just introduced. Intrigued, he continued before he completely lost her.

"I didn't mean to snoop or pry," he said, not giving her the chance to shut him out. "I was on my way out of the bathroom and the sketches caught my eye. They're very good. Did you draw them?"

She sat up in bed and reached for the silky robe she'd retrieved from her closet at some point last night. "Yes, I drew those designs," she said, the reluctance to admit as much evident in her tone.

Without an ounce of modesty, she let the sheet unravel from her body as she stood up, baring her to his gaze for a handful of arousing seconds before she slid into her robe and tied the sash. He swallowed to ease the dryness in his mouth so he could speak again, determined not to let anything distract him from the course of their conversation.

"So you're an artist?"

She rounded the bed to where he was standing and smiled at his surprise, though there was a bit of reserve in the depth of her eyes. "That all depends on who you're asking."

He thought her comment odd but suspected there was a wealth of meaning behind her words and that glimpse of emotion he'd seen in her gaze. "I'm asking you ." He didn't care about anyone else's opinion.

"I'd like to think I'm an artist," she said as she came up beside him. "It's what I love to do. Drawing. Creating unique designs. Bringing them to life." The brief excitement he'd heard in her voice was suddenly eclipsed by a somber sigh. "My family, however, thinks of this as just a hobby."

"But you want it to be more," he guessed.

She shrugged as she ran a finger along a half-finished sketch that looked like a spotted leopard in the midst of a jungle. "At one time I hoped it would evolve into a career, but I'm beginning to think it wasn't meant to be more than a leisurely pursuit. You know, one of those pipe dreams that's not quite attainable."

"You can't mean that." He couldn't believe that with Mia's drive and determination she'd give up on something she wanted so easily. "There's real talent in these pictures and drawings." And he hated to think such a gift would never be appreciated as more than just a hobby.