Home > All Night Long(29)

All Night Long(29)
Author: Jayne Ann Krentz

But Luke used his tongue the way a skillful fencer uses a foil—swift, teasing, provocative strokes that caused her to dig her nails into the back of his shoulders.

Instead of making her nervous, she found herself wanting to engage and parry.

Very delicately feeling enormously adventurous, she nibbled on his lower lip. In response, his finger lid beneath the bottom edge of her sweater. His hands were warm and strong on her bare skin.

She was channeling lightning now. She wound her arms around Luke and hung on for dear life. Energy and heat crackled through her all the way to her toes.

Luke’s breathing roughened. When she stood on tiptoe and took the lobe of his ear between her teeth,

she felt a heavy shudder go through him.

Maybe she wasn’t quite as inhibited as she and the depressingly short list of men who had shared he ed had concluded.

Luke raised his head, breaking off the torrid embrace with what seemed to be an extraordinary effor f will.

“I’d better get out of here while I can still walk,” he said. “If I wait any longer, I won’t be goin nywhere for the rest of the night.”

It dawned on her that he was the one who was calling a halt. How embarrassing.

Another couple of minutes and she would have tripped him and hauled him down onto the floor.

She cleared her throat, aware of the fiery warmth in her face. “We did get a little carried away didn’ e? Probably the aftereffects of all that adrenaline that was pouring through us earlier. I’ve read that it can really do a number on you. Something about the basic survival instinct kicking in after a close brush with disaster. An elemental need to seek the life force.”

“Yeah?” He smiled slowly “You read up on stuff like that?”

She was beyond embarrassed now. “Well, it’s not as if we have what anyone could call a close relationship. For heaven’s sake, we hardly know each other.”

“You’re forgetting about all that quality time I mentioned earlier.”

There was something wrong with her center of gravity. Her body kept trying to fall forward, straigh ack into his arms. To counter the impulse she sat down abruptly on the padded arm of the sofa,

crossed one leg over the other and made a heroic effort to look sophisticated and cool. It was just a

kiss, for heavens sake. Get a grip.

She tried tilting her chin in what she hoped was a self-possessed manner. “I think we’d better chang he subject, don’t you?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“It’s for the best. I’m sure we’re both going to feel a little awkward about this in the morning.”

He glanced at his watch. “Got news for you—it’s damn near five A.M. and I don’t feel even a little bit awkward.”

“You need sleep. We both do.”

“Doubt if I’ll be able to sleep,” he said, remarkably unconcerned. He moved toward the door. “Yo now, I’m probably going to hate myself for asking, but I’d rather avoid any more late-night surprises. What are you going to do now that the Webb house is in smoking ruins?”

The question stopped her cold.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I think the next step is to find out who Pamela employed to take care o he house. It’s safe to say she didn’t do her own cleaning and dusting. She grew up with housekeepers, after all. I doubt if she would have known how to run a household without one. Besides, she didn’ pend much time here in Dunsley. She would have needed someone to keep an eye on the place.”

He nodded, as if she had merely confirmed whatever conelusion he had already reached.

“Figured you weren’t going to give up,” he said.

“I can’t. Not yet.”

“I know.”

He did understand, she thought. He had major doubts about the wisdom of what she was doing, but he understood.

“See you in the morning,” Luke said. He opened the door letting in the cold night air.

He moved ou nto the porch, stopped and turned. “By the way, you know that little theory of yours, the one abou ow we almost had hot, sweaty sex on account of we were both running on leftover adrenaline and our primitive survival instincts were kicking in and all that other psychobabble?”

She stiffened warily. “What about it?”

“It’s garbage as far as I’m concerned. I’ve been wanting to have sex with you since the first time I saw you standing there at the front desk, pounding the little silver bell.”

He went out into the night and closed the door before she could even begin to get her brain back in gear.

Seventeen

“You burned down a house?” Jason started so sharply that the pat of butter he had been in the proces f conveying to his plate splashed into his orange juice instead. “I thought you were going over to Irene’s cabin for a second helping of corn bread. Or something. You two went out and burned down a house together instead?”

“You know damn well that’s not what I meant.” Luke shoveled three slices of the French toast he ha ust finished cooking onto his own plate, carried his breakfast to the table and sat down. “Someone else torched the Webb house. Irene and I just happened to be on the upstairs deck at the time.”

“Boy, howdy, wait until the family hears about this.” Jason used a fork to fish the butter out of th range juice. “On the plus side, at least I can report back that you went out on a real date while as here.”

Luke speared a healthy-sized bite of French toast. “I don’t think Irene looked at it in quite that spirit.”

But she had kissed him good night, he reminded himself And it had been a serious, state-of-the-art, top-of-the-line, full-on kiss. In spite of events, he hadn’t felt this good in the morning for longer than he cared to contemplate. And it had been only a kiss. His brain reeled at the thought of how he would have been feeling today if she had actually invited him into her bed.

“Luke?” Jason waved his fork and snapped his fingers. “Hello? Anybody home in there? Stay with me here, Big Brother. Answer my question.”

“What question?”

“About this arson thing. Are we talking potential legal issues? Because if so, we need to let the Old Man and Gordon know what’s happening.”

“This doesn’t involve the family or the business. No one’s threatening to arrest me.

Yet, at any rate.”

“That’s certainly reassuring.” Jason’s expression turned abruptly somber. “You say the house was owned by Senator Ryland Webb?”

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