A Love Like This - Diana Palmer Page 0,75

her face fiery with unexpected passion as he held her. Was she mistaken, or was there a fine tremor in the arms so fiercely holding her?

His cheek brushed against hers. “Your breasts feel swollen,” he whispered, once more moving her body against him. “Do they ache?” he whispered knowingly.

“Yes,” she gasped mindlessly. “Oh, King!” Her curiosity outweighed her caution, outweighed the fear that had always come with the threat of intimacy, and she reveled in the feel of his slick, damp skin against her tender breasts.

“I can make them stop aching,” he whispered huskily. His lips traveled down her face to her throat, his breathing harsh and rapid. “Here...”

His mouth slid over the silky bodice and suddenly pressed, open and hot, right against the soft curve of her thinly veiled breast.

She cried out at the pleasure it gave her, and her back arched to give him access.

But the sound had shocked King into realizing what he was doing. His head jerked up, his eyes wide and frankly stunned. “Dear God,” he said harshly. He hadn’t expected this. Hadn’t expected to want her. He hadn’t known it until now, hadn’t dreamed... He felt the tautness of his body and suddenly released her and turned away, not wanting her to know what she was doing to him.

She gaped at him. He was breathing harshly as he reached over to pick up his nearly finished drink from the table. His hand seemed to tremble a little as he lifted the glass to his mouth and drained it. “I’m sorry,” he bit off, setting the glass down hard on the table. “I didn’t expect that to happen.”

He was apologizing, she registered, but for what? For wanting her? “I don’t...mind.” She said it and was amazed to find that it was true. She didn’t mind having him want her. It was heady and wildly exciting.

He turned, his dark eyes glazed and questioning. “Why not?”

She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know.” Her eyes fell to his chest. “I still... I still ache,” she whispered shakily.

His lips were parted, as if he was finding it difficult to breathe. “Have you felt like that with anyone else?” he asked, distressed to realize it was suddenly deeply important that he know.

“No,” she confessed, her voice soft, gentle.

He couldn’t decide what to do. Should he send her home or pick her up in his arms and take her into his bed and show her how sweet he could make it for her? Damn. How could just a couple of drinks make him so addled?

She looked up at that moment and saw the indecision in his eyes, and she knew exactly what had caused it. Her face colored. “I—I can’t sleep with you,” she whispered huskily. “I...like what you just did to me, but... I can’t deal with that kind of easy intimacy. Not even with you.”

His dark eyes roamed down her body, the sight of that sweet softness he’d known so briefly making him ache. He caught her eyes. “I can make you want it,” he said in a stranger’s sensuous voice.

“And after?” she asked.

He drew in a slow breath. “My God, what am I saying?”

“It’s been a hard night for you,” she said, forcing herself not to take it too seriously. He was frustrated, that was all, and she was handy and he’d forgotten all the reasons why not. “I wish things were different.”

“So do I.” He rammed his hands into his pockets. “Believe me, so do I.” It was the truth. His body fairly throbbed with wanting her. How odd, his muddled brain mused, to have this kind of reaction to Elissa when it was Bess he’d been afraid of wanting. Could it be misplaced desire? Lord, he couldn’t even think straight.

“I’d better go home.”

He turned. “I’ll walk you.”

“No. It’s all right. You can watch me out the door,” she said quickly—too quickly.

“I can’t help it, you know,” he said softly, accurately reading the apprehension in her lovely face and smiling in spite of himself when she colored. “A man’s body will give him away every time. But I trust you not to take advantage of it,” he added with dry humor.

She stared at him, then gasped with helpless laughter, “You horrible man!”

“Well, I’m vulnerable,” he commented as he opened the front door and stood aside to let her pass. “A man has to look out for his honor, after all. I might marry someday. She’ll want to be the first.”

“I’m sure she’d be at least the fifteenth,” she

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