Janelle Denison: The Ultimate Seduction

"You know, we could consider this nice, casual stroll to your car a first date," he suggested, only half joking. He'd take a date with her any way he could get one.

She thrust her hands deep into her jacket pockets and slanted him a sly look. "Ah, so you do have an ulterior motive other than seeing me safely to my car."

"A very harmless motive, I swear." He held up his hands and attempted to look innocent. "We could head over to Starbucks and get a coffee and just talk about the weather if you'd like."

An incredulous burst of laughter escaped her. "The weather? Are you serious?"

He shrugged and winked at her. "I wouldn't want our first date to be too personal."

She chewed on her full bottom lip, looking torn, then said, "Noah, I can't."

The light at the intersection was red, and Noah pushed the button to give them the right of way, unwilling to give up on her so easily this time. "Not even one coffee? I promise no hand-holding or kissing."

That made her smile again, but her next words shot down his hopes. "I'm sorry, but I've got a big test on Monday I need to study for."

"We could have a study date," he suggested. "There are a few things I'm really good at teaching."

"I'm not going to touch that one," she murmured huskily. Hearing someone approach from behind, she glanced over her shoulder briefly, then back at Noah. "You don't give up, do you?"

Something in her expression had changed in those few seconds, and there was now a troubled glint in her eyes that snagged his attention, but he didn't understand its source. Wanting to soothe her sudden anxiety, he picked up her hand and drew a lazy pattern on her palm with his index finger. "I'd give up if you told me to get lost and meant it."

She stared at him, then shook her head, sending her soft blond waves brushing across her shoulders. "You're way too-"

"Irresistible?" He graced her with one of his enticing grins that never failed to score him extra points with the opposite sex.

The light changed to green, the cars on the street stopped, and they stepped off the curb to cross, severing the contact of their joined hands. "I was thinking more along the lines of persistent."

He laughed. "Hey, I do have a few faults."

She seemed distracted enough not to hear or appreciate his attempt at humor. The footsteps behind them sounded closer, and this time when she looked behind them, Noah saw her stiffen, then she hastened her steps.

He lengthened his stride to keep up. She'd piqued not only his concern but his P.I. instincts, and he glanced back, too, and saw a man about ten yards away, wearing a sweatshirt, jeans and a baseball cap. The lighting in the area was adequate, but the bill of the cap cast a shadow over half his face. The hairs on the back of Noah's neck prickled with awareness, and every investigative intuition he possessed came to full alert.

By the time they reached the other side of the street, she was nearly jogging, trying to escape a danger he didn't understand. His only thought was to grab her to keep her close and make sure she felt safe with him. Whatever had set her off, there was no way he'd let anything or anyone harm her.

Latching onto her upper arm, he forced her to stop. The street lamp overhead illuminated the sheer panic etched on her face, and he felt her tremble in fear. His gut tightened in unease. "Natalie, what's wrong?"

Her gaze shifted over his shoulder to whoever was approaching them, and her complexion paled. "Oh, God, No!" she said on a helpless moan and tried to tug her arm free from his grasp so she could bolt.

He refused to release her, knowing in her near-hysterical state she wasn't thinking straight and could hurt herself. He wanted to shake her out of her stupor but didn't want to scare her even more. He decided on verbal force. "Dammit, Natalie, talk to me!" he growled in a low tone.

"It's him!" she said on a soft, keening cry, her eyes wide and filled with alarm.

She wasn't making any coherent sense, nor was she giving him any information he could act upon. "It's who?"

She shook her head frantically, and gripping his shirt in her hands, she pulled him into a small alcove built into the back doorway of a shop.

Stunned and confused by her abrupt action, he braced his hands on the door behind her to catch himself before his body slammed into hers. "What the hell's going on?" He turned his head to get a better look at the person who'd sent her into such a tailspin, but she wrapped her arms around his neck and fisted her fingers tight in his hair, which kept him in place.

Her eyes pleaded with him to help her, to do as she requested. "Justkiss me," she demanded in a hoarse voice.

Before he could say another word, she crushed her soft lips to his.

For as many times as Noah had fantasized about this moment with Natalie, he'd never once imagined he'd be kissing her during a crisis. Neither had he expected her to be the aggressor. No, he'd always envisioned their first kiss as a slow, sensual, erotic exploration. Him coaxing her passion to the surface at a leisurely pace, and her gradually surrendering.

This reckless embrace went beyond a sweet, lingering kiss and went straight for fast, deep and blistering hot, as well as wild and consuming. She clung to him as if she wanted to crawl into his skin and be a part of him, plastering her soft, lush curves along the length of his body in a way his long-denied libido couldn't ignore. The fingers she'd thrust through his hair flexed for a better hold and she angled his mouth for greater pressure, sealing their lips so tightly he was certain he'd bruise her.

She didn't seem to care. Desperation poured off her in waves as their tongues mated in a wild, illicit dance of seduction, despite the danger he sensed around them. He tasted her panic, felt her fear, even as she kissed him with an erotic intensity that left him reeling. And every time he tried to pull away she grew more frantic, which in turn increased the depth and heat and friction of their mouths and bodies.

He didn't like having his back exposed to whatever element had frightened her, but he'd never in his life been held with such force and need by a woman-a woman intent on either using him as diversionary tactic, or a shield to protect her from harm. He swore he'd keep her safe even as he fought the drugging pleasure of having her so willing and eager in his arms.

Christ. Her feverish kiss and their intimate embrace sent conflicting signals through his brain and body. His muscles were tensed and braced for action, yet he was hard and aching where his erection pressed against her belly. He groaned low in his throat as desire mingled with arousal, and he struggled with wanting this, wanting her, but knowing the circumstances were all wrong.

It seemed an eternity had passed, though in reality only a few seconds had ticked by, when Noah finally gained the upper hand and pried her lips from his, then pulled her arms from his neck. She whimpered at the loss of contact, her entire body shaking uncontrollably. She was breathing hard, and tears of despair shone in her bright, wide eyes as she looked up at him.

He pressed two fingers to her still-damp lips to keep her quiet until he got a better feel for their predicament. "I won't let anything hurt you," he promised in a low, gravelly voice.

Keeping her covered with his body, he leaned back and peered around the alcove to see if there was anyone waiting for them. He saw a few pedestrians strolling along the sidewalk, but not the guy in the baseball cap who had seemingly set her off.

He returned his attention to Natalie, needing to know what she'd seen and what had threatened her so badly. But first he had to calm her, and he tried to do so by rubbing his hands along her arms. "Nobody's there, Natalie. You're safe with me."