LITMIR.BIZ

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      “Damn,” she said. “And here was me planning to get you drunk and seduce you. The temperature’s dropping you know – we might be forced to strip off and share body heat to survive!”

      She was joking. He knew she was joking. But there was something bubbling between them, something so powerful the rest of the room seemed to fade into the background. The radio was on in the kitchen, and choirboys were singing about little drummer boys. The reception was poor, and the sound was crackling. The logs in the fire were crackling. And they were crackling, with raw sexual energy.

      Leah looked at him, noticing the quizzical upward twist of his lips, the sideways quirk his mouth took when he was amused or intrigued. It was strange, she thought, how after only a few hours in his company she could already spot his familiar expressions. His eyes, though, they looked completely new. There was a glimmer of golden flecks she’d never noticed before. Like the flames of the fire were somehow leaping around in the chocolate brown of his pupils.

      “Only kidding,” she added, suddenly feeling a flush of heat rush through her – heat that had nothing to do with the blaze in the fireplace, or the excellent whiskey, and everything to do with the big man lying next to her.

      “Do you always talk this much?” he asked simply, locking his hands behind his head and gazing up at her. His eyes skimmed her chest on the way to her face, and her nipples tightened in response. She felt her pulse rate soar and knew she was blushing. Again.

      “Only when I’m…” Nervous, she thought. Terrified. Aroused. “…awake,” she said.

      “Do you remember when you came to, last night? After you fainted so delicately into my arms, smashing whiskey and glass all over the place?”

      “Sorry! But, no. Nothing at all. Just getting here, and being so relieved when you opened the door, then waking up this morning. Why? What did I miss?”

      “You sat up, praised the Lord, and kissed me.”

      “Oh! Sorry again! That was very forward of me!” she said, torn between embarrassment and laughter. In the end, laughter won out – surely it wasn’t such a big deal? She’d been barely conscious at the time. The ultimate let-out clause. Shame she hadn’t had a quick grope of his arse while she was at it, in fact.

      “Well, how was it for you, then, this kiss? Obviously not that good for me, given that I don’t even remember it.”

      She gave him a look she knew was way too flirtatious. She was still thinking about his bum, and wishing she could remember the way those luscious lips had felt on hers. Where was the harm in a bit of casual flirtation, anyway? After all, as they’d now established, neither of them was married – despite him wearing a ring and her turning up in a wedding dress. Appearances could be deceptive.

      He didn’t reply, and she wondered if she’d blown it – he was a moody so-and-so, flirty one minute, closed off the next. Or maybe he was just so arrogant he couldn’t stand even a joking critique of his snogging skills.

      He reached up and grabbed her shoulders, suddenly tugging her down onto his chest. She landed with a thud, and lay there for a second, stunned in several different ways. Oh. Yes. It was just as hard as it looked; pure muscle. And he smelled really, really good. Of wood and spice and something that took a direct route from her nostrils to somewhere much lower. Never had the simple act of breathing been such a turn-on. She lay still, inhaling the fresh cotton of his T-shirt, the hint of something gorgeous from the shower, and the underlying scent of him…sexy, virile, male.

      She pushed herself up, her face inches from his, taking tiny breaths as she lost her gaze in the pool of those gold-flecked eyes. Deep enough to drown a woman. Even looking at him was divine, and the feel of his hard body crushed under hers was even better.

      Rob tangled one hand into her hair, not even knowing himself what he was going to do next. There was something about this woman that confused him, intoxicated him. Took away his ability to think clearly. In the end, without thinking at all, he pulled her mouth down to meet his.

      He kissed her softly at first, giving her the chance to pull away – part of him even hoping she would. When it became clear from the way her body moulded to him like running water that she was going nowhere, the contact deepened. Mouths parted, his tongue touched hers, his teeth sweetly nipped her lower lip. One hand held her head firmly to his while the other roamed expertly over the contours of her body – her neck, shoulders, down to the small of her back, caressing and stroking with fingers that clearly knew their way around a woman.

      Leah was thinking no more clearly than him. Her body was filling with warmth; a thousand nerve endings tingling as his hands and lips dominated her senses. She could feel his arousal pressing into her, and she slid shamelessly around on top of him, wriggling her body into position until the hard denim-clad bulge hit just the right point to make her gasp. She slipped a hand under his T-shirt, tracing the smooth lines of his pectorals, the silky trail of hair, the peak of his nipples. Jesus. What a body. She wanted to pull that jersey away, to look at him and lick him and kiss him all over.

      As fast as it started, it ended. Suddenly, he pulled her face away, using the tangle of her hair to hold her back, ignoring her small pleas and moves to return to his kiss. He looked up at her confused expression with a big, dazzling grin, eyes wicked and teeth gleaming white.

      God, she was magnificent, he thought as he gazed at her. Lips swollen from kissing him back so hard. Eyes wild with desire. Her body bucking and rubbing like she was riding a rodeo horse; her fingers already instinctively seeking out the parts of his body that were the most sensitive. Those lush breasts straining to escape. He was so turned on his whole being was thrumming. And still he held her back. He had a point to make, and Rob Cavelli was very good at making his point.

      “As the last kiss disappointed you so much, d’you think you’ll remember that one?” he said, smiling as her lust-clouded eyes started to clear. The amber settled from tigress to kitten, and she sighed as she realised she’d been played.

      “Yes. ’Til I’m 100 and senile,” she said breathlessly. “Point taken. But why did you stop? You seemed to be enjoying it as well.”

      “Of course I was. But you might regret it later,” he said, his voice gravel. “Your judgement doesn’t exactly seem to be working right now. And because this is how babies are made, and I’m sure neither of wants that for Christmas. And because I’m hungry. For food.”

      Even as he said it, he knew he was lying. Making excuses. He was nothing but a coward, pretending to protect her, when in reality it was himself he was worried about. Sex with this woman would blow his mind, he already knew it would. And that would be very unsafe sex…in all kinds of ways. He was buying time. Trying to get his body to cool down so his mind could take control. He hadn’t lived like a monk since Meredith, but no woman had ever come close to making him feel like this. It was crazy, and he’d already been too crazy. He lived there for a long time after he lost Meredith, and he never wanted to return.

      He kept his face closed, guarded, making his expression as light as his tone. Leah smiled at him, and knew he was stalling. Decided, he knew, to go along with it. Good girl.

      “Food.” she murmured, sitting up so she was straddling him. She tidied her hair back into its pony tail and gazed ahead, deep in thought. From this angle he could see the firm buds of her nipples thrusting proudly forwards, her body still bearing the remnants of her arousal. Even the thought of it made him twitch in the pants department, and he firmed up against her again, so hard there was no hiding it. She wriggled against it, very deliberately, as she pretended to ponder dinner plans.

      “Well, if you’re sure it’s food you’re after, I’m your girl. You happen to be in the company of one of the finest chefs in London – or at least on one street in London. I’ll go and see what’s in the kitchen…” she said, and nimbly climbed off him. He felt cold as soon as she’d gone, already missing the soft press of her body.

      She looked down, grinning at the sight of his distressed groin.

      “You just lie there and

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