The Beautiful Widow - By Helen Brooks Page 0,31
glanced her way. To all intents and purposes nothing had changed since he’d divulged the facts about his father, but she could sense a definite coolness where there’d been warmth before. It shouldn’t matter but it did. He clearly regretted talking to her. Maybe he thought she would gossip? She wondered how she could reassure him without bringing up a subject he clearly didn’t want to discuss any more.
Looking at her, Steel knew exactly what she was thinking. Her face was very expressive, the exact opposite of most of the cool, elegant, superbly controlled women he liked to date. She was the exact opposite. And therein lay his problem. He had no concerns she would discuss his father with anyone; it was more the fact he had found himself revealing what had happened that had panicked him. He’d never talked about the incident that had shattered his family and left himself and Annie orphans, not even to well-meaning family and friends, and certainly not to the lady from social services who had tried to press him to come to counselling at the time of the accident.
Somewhere in the distance a dog barked, the sound intruding into the sheltered little garden where only the low hum of distant traffic served as a background to the scented night. He drained his coffee cup and stood up, feeling the need to distance himself from her and take stock. For the first time in his life he felt as though his feet were on shifting sand and he didn’t like that; he didn’t like it at all. All the circumstances surrounding her were wrong and he’d known the moment he’d agreed to the mother’s bidding to come into the house he was treading on dangerous ground, so why the hell had he done it? Why had he followed the desire to meet her family, her children, and why had he shamelessly played on the mother’s soft heart to wangle a dinner invitation?
This wasn’t like him. Dammit, he didn’t feel like himself. He was autonomous and independent; he didn’t do happy families in any shape or form. Everything in his life was on his terms and that was the way he liked it. And why the hell was he brooding over this right now anyway?
Toni had risen too, and as he walked round the little table she was saying something or other about how pleased she was she’d been to the site today and what a lot of ideas it had given her, but that was on the perimeter of his mind. He knew exactly what he was going to do. There could be no excuse afterwards about it being an impulse; he was going to kiss her because he wanted to. It was as simple as that. Simple, and hideously complicated.
His gaze fell to her mouth as he took her into his arms before she realised what he was doing. Her lips parted as she tried to speak, and he felt heat like liquid fire racing through his body as he took her mouth. She smelled as sweet as the night and was as warm, her hands resting against his chest as he let the kiss deepen slightly, shamelessly testing the water.
He had told himself that a kiss, a swift goodnight kiss at the end of an evening, could be explained away as social politeness, but now she was in his arms he knew he’d been fooling himself. He couldn’t draw away. He deepened the kiss still more, his tongue rippling along her teeth until she opened fully for him, and as she kissed him back it sent his senses reeling.
Her hands had risen to his shoulders and now the delectable length of her body was pressed against his. As his fingers tangled in the raw silk of her hair she arched towards him with a little involuntary moan that destroyed the last of his shaky control. She was delicious, intoxicating.
He placed a hand in the small of her back to steady her as he plunged into the undefended territory of her mouth, fuelling and feeding on the fierce rush of sensation the feel and taste of her was producing in every inch of his body.
He wanted her, right now, on the stone slabs under the stars. He wanted to make love to her in this velvet darkness until there was no room in her mind for anyone or anything but him. He wanted to possess her completely, to make her his.
Her tongue had