“—down,” he finished for her. “No. Now stop fidgeting.”
His warm breath disturbed some tendrils of hair at her temples. With her arm around his neck and her hand holding his far shoulder, she felt his muscles flex and move as he effortlessly carried her up the stairs.
She focused her gaze at his collarbone and bit her lip. The temptation to kiss along his jawline, just shadowed with stubble, was disturbing.
When they mercifully reached the second floor, he put her down, being careful to support her with one hand until she'd had a chance to plant the crutches he handed back to her.
She cleared her throat. “Thanks.”
“You're welcome.”
The second floor had five bedrooms, and two were not furnished at all, she soon discovered.
“I haven't had a chance to do anything about those,” he said almost apologetically. “It's been years since I bought the place, but I've let the decorating sort of languish.”
They paused outside the third door. “This is the master bedroom,” he said as he opened the door.
She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but it wasn't the sight that greeted her. Antique furniture in a rich rosewood filled the room, which was dominated by a king-sized bed. Cream-colored bedding, upholstery, and drapes offered a sharp contrast to the wood finish. The result was breathtaking.
Quentin liked antiques? And if looks were anything to judge by, he was fairly knowledgeable. She was impressed. She was, no, stunned. “This was in your apartment?”
He grinned at her shocked tone. “Hey, don't sound so surprised. The word 'taste' and I are not completely incompatible.”
“Sorry, it's just I pictured something… er….”
“—with leather and lots of mirrors?” he supplied with a chuckle.
An involuntary smile rose to her lips. Embarrassed that he'd been able to guess her thoughts, she changed the subject. “I had no idea you liked antiques.”
“At Harvard, I'd sometimes go for a drive to take a break from cramming for exams. Occasionally I'd come across an antique show, or just someone's yard sale.”
“I'm just surprised because you didn't seem to give any thought to the decor in your office,” she offered.
“True. But that's not personal space, it's work space. I figured those guys at the architectural firm knew what they were doing. I sure paid them enough.”
She picked up the clock on the bureau. Its elaborate woodwork marked it as a Victorian-era piece. “This is just charming.”
“I have a great collection of clocks and timepieces,” he said as he came up to stand next to her.
“I suppose the watch museum in Geneva is your favorite museum?” she teased.
“You've been there?” He looked surprised. “I've visited several times, when I can spare time on a business trip.”
“Yes, I visited it on a trip to Europe during college.”
“This furniture I picked up through an antiques dealer. Except for the bed frame. That I bid on anonymously at an auction.”
“Yes, it's impressive.” She went over to the bed and gave it an obligatory pat. “Do you know the age?”
“Dates from the 1890s.”
“Did you need to restore it?” He had walked up behind her as she skimmed her fingertips over the headboard.
“No, it had been kept in great shape.”
“That's good.” She was very aware of him and the tension coiling within her. Trying to keep the conversation going, she went on, “Intricately hand carved, I see.”
“Yup.” Was it her overly-sensitized senses, or had the timbre of his voice deepened a notch? She kept her gaze focused on the headboard.
“Must have been expensive.” He was very close now, his breath disturbing her hair, and blocking her means of escape.
“Yeah, but I liked the intricate carving.”
His hand settled over hers on the headboard, guiding the tip of her index finger over the swirling indentations and protrusions of the smooth wood.
Oh, boy. She was melting like butter in the sun with the heat emanating from him. Her gaze fixed on his hand covering hers, unable to look away or slip her hand from his as he continued to move their hands over the headboard.
“You can tell he took his time,” he said huskily“Everything needed to be perfect, and so he created something astoundingly beautiful.”
Just when she thought she couldn't stand any more, he dropped his hand from where it covered hers. Before she could exhale however, his hands settled on her shoulders and he nuzzled her neck.
She struggled to keep her voice even. “Perhaps the craftsman didn't work alone.”
He turned her to face him. He was smiling, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “You think?”
“As an expert on antiques, I can assure you, he didn't.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Great work is often revealed to be the result of a great collaboration,” she managed to say before his head dipped for a kiss.
“Maybe he was a hermit.”
“And creating a beautiful headboard big enough for a king-sized bed?” she asked skeptically.
He chuckled. “Hmm, good point.” His lips trailed kisses from her brow down to her jaw. He removed one of her crutches and dropped it on the bed, replacing its support with his arm around her waist. “Maybe he just liked big beds.”
It was getting harder and harder to concentrate on their conversation. “He must have had someone to inspire him.”
His fingers fumbled at the zipper of her sleeveless top. “Honey, you're inspiring me right now.”
Only when cool air greeted her back did she realize he must have lowered the zipper on her top to allow himself better access. His hand came up to cup her breast over her sagging top and he allowed his thumb to trace around the outer edge of the nipple before peeling the top away from her.
She heard his swift intake of breath and met his hooded gaze. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asked huskily. He lowered his eyes again to her br**sts, which strained against the wisp of fabric that was now their only protection against his heated gaze.
Then all coherent thought was lost as he bent his head and his mouth closed over one tight nipple through the lacy fabric of her bra. He began to suck, his tongue moving over the peak again and again.
Liz moaned and distantly heard her remaining crutch hit the carpet with a thud. Her hands moved to hold his bent head to her breast. His arms now were her only support as he transferred his ministrations to her other breast.