He was aroused. She could feel his hardness thrusting against her, his hips moving ever so slightly in a nestling motion, wordlessly trying to tempt her into opening her thighs to cradle him. It was tempting. Damn tempting. She couldn't deny wanting him, had never tried to, but he was right: she didn't trust him.
"It won't work," she said hoarsely.
"It already has." The words were soft, almost crooning, and his warm breath washed over her mouth a second before his lips were there, firm and hot, his head slanting to deepen the kiss and open her mouth to him. She hadn't meant to do so, but she found herself helpless to prevent it. Right from the beginning, his kisses had made her dizzy with delight. His self-confidence was manifested even in this; there was no hesitancy, no awkwardness. He simply took her mouth as if it were his right, his tongue probing deep, and a deep shudder of pleasure made her quake.
Held against him as she was, she could feel the tension in his body, feel his sex throbbing with arousal. He had never made any effort to disguise his response to her. Though it had been obvious even on their first date, he hadn't pressured her in any way. Maybe she had started falling in love with him then, because he had been both amused and matter-of-fact about his frequent arousal, his attitude being that it was a natural result of being in her company. She hadn't felt threatened in any way; in fact, looking back, she realized that Quinlan had gone out of his way to keep from alarming her. He had been remarkably unaggressive, sexually speaking, despite the persistent evidence of his attraction. She had never felt that she might have to face a wrestling match at the end of an evening. Even the night they had made love, she hadn't fully realized the seriousness of his kisses until she had somehow found herself naked in bed with him, her body on fire with need. Then she had dis- covered that he was very serious, indeed.
The memory made her panic, and she tore her mouth away from his. She had no doubt that if she didn't stop him now, within five minutes he would be making love to her. The hot sensuality of his kisses was deceptive, arousing her more and faster than she'd expected. It had been the same way that one night. He had just been kissing her; then, before she knew it, she had been wild for him. She hadn't known such intense, heat and pleasure had existed, until then.
"What's wrong?" he murmured, reclaiming her mouth with a series of swift, light kisses that never- theless burned. "Don't you like it? Or do you like it too much?"
His perceptiveness alarmed her even more, and despite herself she began to struggle. To her surprise, he released her immediately, though he didn't step back. "Tell me what went wrong, babe." His tone was dark and gentle. "I can't make it right if I don't know what it is."
She put her hands on his chest to force him away and was instantly, achingly aware of his hard, warm flesh covered only by a thin layer of cotton. She could even feel the roughness of his hair, the strong, heavy beat of his heart pulsing beneath her fingers. "Quinlan..."
"Tell me," he cajoled, kissing her again.
Desperately she slipped sideways, away from him. Her body felt overheated and slightly achy. If she didn't tell him, he would persist in his seductive cajoling, and she didn't know how long she could resist him. "All right." She owed him that much. She didn't intend to change her mind about dating him, but at least he deserved an explanation. She should have told him before, but at the time all she had wanted was to stay as far away from him as possible. "But... later. Not right now. We need to get everything gathered up and get settled in the lobby."
He straightened, amusement in his eyes. "Where have I heard that before?"
"It isn't polite to gloat."
"Maybe not, but it's sure as hell satisfying."
She was nervous. Quinlan was surprised at the depth of her uneasiness, because that wasn't a trait he associated with Elizabeth. He wondered at the cause of it, just as he had wondered for the past six months why she had run from him so abruptly after spending the night in his arms. She wasn't afraid of him; that was one of the things he liked best about her. For him to find women attractive, they had to be intelligent, but unfortunately that intelligence tended to go hand in glove with a perceptiveness that made them shy away from him.
He couldn't do anything about his aura of dangerousness, because he couldn't lose the characteristics, the habits or the instincts that made him dangerous. He didn't even want to. It was as much a part of him as his bones, and went as deep. He had made do with shallow relationships for the sake of physical gratification, but inside he had been waiting and watching. Though the life he had led sometimes made him feel as if only a few people in this world really saw what went on around them, that most people went through life wearing blinders, now that he was mostly out of the action he wanted the normalcy that the average person took for granted. He wanted a wife and family, a secure, settled life; as soon as he had met Elizabeth, he had known that she was the one he wanted.
It wasn't just her looks, though God knew he broke out in a sweat at the sight of her. She was a little over average height, as slim as a reed, with sleek dark hair usually pulled back in a classic chignon. She had the fast lines of a thoroughbred, and until he had met her, he hadn't known how sexy that was. But it was her eyes that had gotten him. Cat eyes, he'd told her, and it was true, but though they were green, it was more the expression in them than the color that made them look so feline. Elizabeth's nature shone in her eyes. She had given him a warning look that had said she wasn't intimidated by him at all, underlaid by a cool disdain that was certainly catlike.