LITMIR.BIZ

       CHAPTER NINE

      HE PUT DISTANCE between them in the lift as if sensing her withdrawal. She kept her eyes downcast, and hung onto the photos like a lifeline. They and the exotic orchid on her wrist were mementoes she’d treasure for ever.

      She should be grateful. She would be, when common sense rid her of the dull ache. Not now. Maybe once they’d shared polite platitudes, and she was alone.

      Her key card. She’d better have it out ready and limit any awkward time. The doors opened and he guided her towards her room, turned her to face him, gripping her elbows, his features composed, his eyes dark as ebony.

      They held her captive, mesmerised her. Seconds. Minutes. She was drifting, vaguely aware of him freeing her arms.

      ‘Sleep peacefully, Lauren.’ Rough as if forced over jagged stones.

      Then, like déjà vu, his lips were on hers, moving smoothly yet more masterful, more mature. Like ten years ago their only physical contact. And like ten years ago she instinctively responded, wanting his kiss to last for ever.

      Breaking away, eyes now narrowed and puzzled, he stepped back, and gave a slow short shake of his head.

      ‘Goodnight, Lauren.’ He sounded bewildered before walking away.

      Had he remembered? Realised who she was? Her hand shook as she blindly tried to swipe her card without taking her eyes off his rigid departing back. She froze as he turned, strode back and yanked her into his arms, taking her mouth with a fierce male grunt. Causing her to drop everything and cling to him.

      This wasn’t the exploratory tenderness of the teenage boy, or the polite goodnight of a moment ago. This was raw, masculine need, a hunger that swept her up and demolished any inhibitions. He caressed her back in wide strokes, urging her closer, searing her skin wherever they touched.

      A yearning to arch into his warmth overwhelmed her. She couldn’t breathe, didn’t care. Her legs shook, her body quivered, fire flared in her core. And her lips parted willingly as he deepened the kiss.

      She tasted wine and rich coffee, a hint of chocolate and—

      His head flung back, his chest heaved. His stunned eyes raked her face, and his lips parted without sound. He backed away, arms wide. He hit the wall opposite and swallowed, dark eyes roaming her face as if he’d never seen it before.

      With his gaze locked with hers, he came slowly forward and lightly traced shaking fingers down her cheek, settling under her chin.

      ‘Wow.’ Incredulous. Deep and husky. He seemed to struggle for breath. ‘I...I’ll see you Monday.’

      By the time she’d blinked he’d gone, heading for the stairs.

      Lauren fought for composure, unable to move. What had she done to provoke such a reaction? Where had her response come from?

      The lift’s ping brought her back to the present. She scooped up her belongings and a moment later was secure behind her closed door. Dumping the stuff on the desk, she flung herself onto the bed, reliving every second since they’d exited the lift.

      She studied the photo of the two of them, searching for something to explain his behaviour and sudden flight. There was no clue in his open expression or his smile. Nothing to indicate he had anything but enjoying the function on his mind.

      So it had to be her. What deficiency did she have in her personality that discouraged more familiar contact? Did she give out negative vibes? She had close friends, some from back at school and uni in Melbourne.

      Their common interests had been the original base but their friendships now went much deeper. She knew she could always depend on their support in any situation. It was her family who seemed to find excuses not to be with her. Or was it she who put up barriers, subliminally deterring closer intimacy for fear of being rejected?

      She set the photo against the lamp on the bedside table, placed her corsage in front of it, and prepared for bed. They were clearly visible in the light from the street lamps. She fell asleep with her fingers on her lips.

      * * *

      Matt fisted one hand into the palm of the other as the taxi drove him home. He could smell her perfume on his shoulder, see her shocked expression when he’d pulled away and left. He still savoured the taste of her on his lips.

      He’d meant that first kiss to be gentle, an affectionate ending to a memorable night. Her initial response hadn’t surprised him. Its effect on him had been astonishing. His libido had gone into overdrive and that damn niggle had drummed in his head. Breaking free had been instinctive.

      But he hadn’t been able to walk away. The invitation he’d seen in her hazel eyes had driven him back and he’d let his pent-up desire run free. He’d moulded her body to his, caressing her back, and exploring the curves he’d delighted in all evening. He’d invaded her mouth, savouring her sweetness, craving more.

      Her soft moan had slammed him back to reality. To the shame of his actions. He’d never lost control before. Getting the hell out of there had seemed the only option; now it branded him a coward.

      Going back to apologise while he still ached for more intimate contact would exacerbate the pain he’d caused. Phoning would be even more cowardly. He hadn’t felt so much like a louse since...

      Since the night he kissed a girl hiding in the dark on a balcony. The niggling cleared like a light-bulb moment in his head. An irresistible allure. A barely heard sigh. Soft lips under his.

      The kiss he’d never forgotten, had relived so often in his dreams, and that had been so entrenched in his memory that his body had known her the instant their lips had met tonight. He’d never had a face to picture, only a curled mass of dark hair, and a recollection of a slender body in a blue dress. And throughout the ten years since, no lips had ever felt as soft or tasted as sweet.

      He’d searched the

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