Meg Lacey - A Noble Pursuit

“What are you doing? I think you’ve really lost it, girl,” she whispered to herself.

Juliette stood on her tiptoe and peeked at herself again. Her hair was tousled and her eyes were huge. It was an appealing look if you liked drowned rats or waifs. She swore under her breath and reached for a towel to dry her hair. Leaning over, she rubbed her head briskly, her mind scurrying in place like a hamster on a wheel as she tried to control her panic. Ohmygod, maybe there’s a window I can climb through. She didn’t get a chance to find out.

The door shuddered with the force of a fist knocking. “Red, hey Red, are you okay in there?”

Juliette whirled around and stared at the door as if it had spoken to her. “I—” Her voice emerged as a squeak. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t feel dizzy or anything, do you?”

Only when I think of coming out of here and what I want to happen next.

The doorknob jiggled, then turned. “I’m coming in.”

“No, that’s all right. I’m coming out.” With a quick, despairing glance in the mirror, Juliette reached for the door and twisted the handle. She stepped from the bathroom, smacking into Shay, who was planted on the other side. Her face buried itself in his chest, which was exposed by the open shirt he wore. His rough hair tickled her nose, and her hands automatically came up to push herself away. However, she found them lingering on that chest, unwilling to move, her fingertips wantonly caressing his firm muscles, the sculpted perfection beneath her hands. She glanced up at him, only to find him staring down at her, his eyes sharp and intense.

“You changed your clothes,” she said, for want of anything more.

“You weren’t the only one who got wet.”

Juliette’s breath caught. He didn’t know the half of it. She ached, needed, wanted, longed… “Oh yes,” she whispered. “How stupid of me.”

“Are you warmer now?”

“Definitely,” she murmured. “How about you?”

“Me, too.”

She knew she should step away from him, but she didn’t want to. Couldn’t make herself do so. She had wanted the consummate fantasy, the ultimate adventure, and it was standing right in front of her. The reality was right under her fingertips. She couldn’t make herself move if she’d been standing on dynamite ready to blow. She felt his heated flesh practically scorching her fingertips.

Juliette smiled. “You seem very warm.”

“I am.” His hands lifted to cup her shoulders. “Matter of fact, it’s downright hot in here.”

She licked her lips. “Uh-huh.”

“Ah, hell. Now you’ve done it.”

She felt his hands tighten on her shoulders as she met his gaze. “Done what?”

Shaking his head, he muttered, “It’s the mouth. I’ve always been a sucker for a mouth like yours.”

Her lips felt as dry as a desert under the noonday sun. She licked her lips again, this time aware that his eyes followed the movement of her tongue. “A mouth like…” she let her words trail off, inviting his response. Maybe this seduction thing wouldn’t be so hard, after all.

“Like yours.” He leaned down, his lips touching hers with a gentle pressure, molding to her full contours.

Her lips tingled as they met his. She hadn’t known a man’s mouth could be so soft. She sighed. “Mmm…”

He drew back and looked at her, cupping her face with his hands. “They’re as full and sweet tasting as a ripe berry. I love berries.” He licked her lips, like a kid savoring a lollipop. “I could eat them up.”

Her lips parted slightly as his tongue stroked over them. “What’s stopping you?” She breathed the question into his mouth.

“You are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“I’m taking care of you. I can’t take advantage.”

“You wouldn’t be taking advantage.”

“Yes I would.” He dropped his hands and stepped back from her.

“But—”

He turned and started for the living room. “Come on. The coffee’s getting cold.”

Stunned, Juliette stared at his retreating back. What had happened? One minute the man was completely turned on, and the next he was sauntering away as if he were on his way to a garden party. Juliette’s eyes narrowed as she considered his tight buttocks and long legs. Her temper started to simmer. If he thought he could taste her lips like a rich dessert, then walk away from her as if he’d decided it was too fattening, he’d better think again. If he hadn’t kissed her, her senses might have returned. She might have decided this entire episode was best left as it was—charming, exciting, but ultimately unresolved. After all, part of her knew that was the smartest thing to do. But no, he’d thrown down the gauntlet. He had to kiss her and walk away. No woman could take that type of insouciant challenge lying down. If he thought this was over, he was sadly mistaken. Before the night was done she’d have him. Her family history dictated that the Fortiers fought for whatever they wanted, and she wasn’t about to let her ancestors down.

She wanted Shay.

SHAY KNEW HE’D BEEN playing with fire. Of all the stupid, unprofessional, brain-dead things to do! He’d known better than to kiss her. It was bad enough that he’d carried her inside, even though it had served a purpose. He was trying to shock her and see if her memory would return. At least that was part of it. But the rest—ah, the rest… He couldn’t resist the thought of getting his arms around her any way he could.

Shay could feel her eyes boring a tunnel through his back. He wondered what she was thinking, then decided he didn’t want to know. Instead he walked over to the end table and picked up one of the coffee cups he’d set there a few moments before. He turned and held it out to her. That’s when he got his first real view of her wearing his bathrobe.

“Son of a—” He choked down the rest of his words.

He would never be able to wear that robe again without imagining her in it. He’d almost thrown it out a few days before, but now that he’d seen it on this woman he might have to frame it. The thin terry caressed her curves, molding them and beckoning him closer. He wanted to hold her, to keep her safe from life’s harm. What was she doing out on her own, anyway? Some man should have tucked her in his jacket pocket and not let her out of his sight. She looked slender and delicate, but not breakable. He took a closer look. No, definitely not breakable. There was something different about her, a glint in her eyes that put his senses on high alert. He didn’t have the vaguest idea what was going on, but he suddenly knew that if he had any sense, he’d run for his life. He strove to get the situation back to normal. In other words, back under his control. After all, controlling events was what he did best.

“Here’s your coffee, Red.”

She walked toward him with a disturbing swish of her hips, reminding him of a cat on the prowl. Now that he thought about it, she had the look of an exotic feline, with those slightly tilted vivid blue eyes, winged black brows, high cheekbones and triangular face. He could only pray she wouldn’t lick her lips like he was a saucer of cream, because that darting little tongue was what had set him off the last time. Her fingers touched his as she cupped the mug.

“Thank you,” she said with a slight smile. Lifting the china to her lips, she took a tiny sip. “Mmm, that’s delicious.”

Shay had to look over her shoulder, resisting the temptation to crush her mouth under his. He thrust a hand through his hair. “I grind—”

“—your own beans. I remember.”

Shay was positive his face was turning red. Either that or it was hotter in here than he’d thought. “Glad you remember something,” he mumbled.