Against the Edge (The Raines of Wind Can - By Kat Martin Page 0,39

of narrow hips. When he turned, she allowed herself to enjoy his amazing pecs and six-pack abs.

Her eyes widened as her gaze moved lower.

“It’s not my fault, angel, if the way you’re looking at me is making me hard.”

Oh, God! She closed her eyes tightly, pretended not to hear him.

“Seems to me it’s my turn to look at you.” Walking over, he jerked back the covers. Claire shrieked as a shot of cold air hit her, then flushed when she discovered her sleep tee had ridden clear up on her hips. She was wearing a pair of white cotton bikini panties, but they didn’t cover much. She grabbed the hem of her nightshirt and tugged it back down.

“Very nice,” he said, tossing the blankets back over her. “If I hadn’t promised you’d be safe, I’d climb in there with you. I don’t suppose you’d reconsider.”

She looked up at him standing there completely aroused and not the least bit embarrassed. Claire’s stomach contracted and her nipples tightened.

“We...we need to get some sleep,” she said and rolled over on her side, facing away from him.

“Good luck with that,” Ben grumbled, then walked over and flopped down on the bed.

Claire wasn’t sure how much time passed. Minutes that seemed like hours as her mind kept replaying the sight of Ben Slocum, standing there in all his almost-naked glory, fiercely aroused. She closed her eyes but sleep remained elusive. It irritated her that Ben didn’t have the same problem. It was the sound of his deep, even breathing that finally put her to sleep.

* * *

It was three in the morning when Claire awakened. Unaccustomed to the desert dryness, she reached for the bottle of water she had set on the nightstand and took a long drink. The room felt strangely quiet as she set the bottle back down. She looked over at the other bed. It was empty.

Claire jolted up off the mattress, certain Ben had left her and taken off on his own. Then she saw him on the deck outside the sliding glass doors.

He had pulled on his jeans but wore no shirt, and his feet were bare. He stood with his back to her, staring out at the desert. There was something in the rigid set of his shoulders that moved her, the way he stood with his long legs splayed as if he faced some unseen foe. He seemed so isolated, so alone.

Laura had always said that Ben was a man who needed no one, and yet there were times Claire caught glimpses of the gentler, more vulnerable man he kept locked inside.

She hadn’t missed the relief on his face when Lyla Holden had told him Sam seemed all right. Ben might not know it, but already he loved his son.

Claire watched him staring into the darkness and wished she could comfort him in some way. It was foolish, wanting to comfort a man who would shun the very thought of it.

Still, she found herself moving toward the door leading out to the deck, sliding it open, stepping into the soft night and warm desert heat. The moment she did, he turned and their eyes met. Hers uncertain, his cool and remote. When she moistened her lips, his icy stare shifted, changed to a look of burning intensity.

A single instant of hesitation, then he strode toward her, pulled her into his arms, and his mouth crushed down over hers.

Heat, was all she could think. Power and determination. Claire swayed on her feet as need washed through her, so strong she wasn’t sure if it was his or her own. Her lips parted under his relentless assault, welcomed the invasion of his tongue, and her arms slid up around his neck. He stroked deeply into her mouth even as he moved her backward up against the wall, into the shadowy darkness on the balcony. The kiss grew wetter, hotter, hungrier.

She could feel his erection, thick and hard against her belly; his hands, big and strong, easing up her nightshirt, cupping her bottom, pulling her more solidly against him. Sensation rippled through her, heat and desire, lust unlike any she had ever known.

“God, I want you,” he said against the side of her neck, his teeth grazing her skin. Goose bumps rose wherever he touched. “I need you, angel.”

Her breathing hitched as his hands moved to her breasts, cupping them through the soft cotton fabric. She understood his need. Worry ate at him, thoughts of the past, the woman he had