It was a very masculine sort of room, she decided, experimentally opening a closet door. But that stood to reason. It was obvious Judd Raven didn’t have much in the way of feminine influence in his life. She was just taking in the meaning of the shirts hanging in the closet when Judd’s voice sounded grimly from the other side of the door.
“Honor! Stop acting like a child. Open the door. I’ve got a brandy for you.”
“No, thanks.” She peered more closely at the boots on the floor. Damn!
“Honor,” he said again, sounding as if he were striving for patience, “you’re in my room. Yours is the one across the hall.”
Honor, having reached the same conclusion, swore softly again and shut the closet door. “I’m not coming out, Judd. I’m sure you can understand why. Sorry about the mix up in the rooms but I imagine you can make do. Good night!”
“Honor, I want to talk to you!”
“I’m not feeling chatty. Go hold one of your delightful single-word conversations with yourself!” She opened her suitcase and began fishing around for her nightgown and toothbrush. She was exhausted.
There was a long silence from the other side of the door and for an instant Honor almost felt guilty at having spoken so harshly. Immediately she scolded herself for the stupid reaction. What was the matter with her? The man had just kidnapped her, for God’s sake!
She didn’t actually hear him walk back down the hall. He moved too silently for that, but Honor’s instincts told her when he was no longer standing on the other side of the door. Heaving a shaky sigh of relief, she made her way into the bathroom and began getting ready for bed. In the morning she would find a way of dealing with Judd Raven. Tonight she had been through too much. She needed her rest. With all the doors locked she felt safe enough to go to bed.
* * *
It must have been nearly two in the morning when Honor awoke in the middle of the wide bed to the realization that she was not alone in the room. For a disoriented moment she lay bunking in the darkness, trying to remember exactly where she was and why things weren’t right.
Then she saw the dark, dangerous figure standing at the foot of the bed and her sleep-bemused brain finally began to clear. She struggled up on the pillows with a gasp, her eyes wide and startled in the moonlight.
Judd watched her as she took in the sight of him standing so menacingly at the end of the bed. One hand rested on a high, carved bedpost and in the other he held a snifter of brandy. His eyes were gleaming jewels reflecting the silvery light of the moon as he stared down at her.
“You’re sleeping in my bed,” he drawled softly.
Honor stared at him, unable to move. In that moment she couldn’t have fled, not even to save her own life. She could feel the waves of his desire fanning her like dark wings. The knowledge that he hovered so close sent a tremor through her but it was a tremor compounded as much of remembered passion as it was of fear. She had lain in Judd Raven’s arms once before and it had been ecstasy. For some reason mat seemed to be all her mind wanted to recall.
Still, a part of her refused to succumb so easily to the illusory love he offered. She would not be a victim again of her own romantic imagination. “No, Judd.” The whispered denial came from between dry lips. Her whole mouth was suddenly dry. Awkwardly she touched the tip of her tongue to the corner of her lips. “No.”
“But you are,” he insisted far too gently. “You’re sleeping in my bed. I’ve been sitting out in the front room thinking about it for an hour.” He dropped his hand from the bedpost and paced a step closer, gazing down at her hungrily. “Why shouldn’t I pick up where things went wrong? With you in my arms? You were happy that night, Honor. You couldn’t have faked your response. I would have known. You wanted me that night as much as I wanted you.”
“Judd,” she said, careful to keep her voice very even. Was he drunk? “In the morning we can talk.”
“It was in the morning that everything went wrong last time,” he mused and came a pace closer. “It will be different this time. I want you to understand how it is for a man…”
Her innate caution gave way to her remembered hurt and anger. “I’ve already learned how it is for a man,” she bit out scathingly. “You made it very clear the last time. I don’t want another lesson, Judd!”
“We’re going to start over, Honor.”
“No, not a chance.” But of course that was why she was there, wasn’t it? He was going to try to reestablish the physical relationship they had shared so briefly in Mexico. But why? Surely this man didn’t lack for women when he wanted them. Hadn’t he once told her he’d had a few interesting affairs?
“Yes,” he countered, “we’re going to start over and we’re going to start at the point where everything went wrong last time. I want you to understand, this time. I want you to realize how I felt.” He set down the brandy glass on the bedstand.
Honor drew in her breath, knowing her time had run out. Judd was intent on his purpose tonight. If she didn’t make a move to run now it would be too late.
But even as she shoved back [_the _]bedclothes and scrambled for the far side, Honor knew deep inside that it was already too late. She didn’t stand a chance.
He caught her before she had taken more than three running steps toward the sliding glass door, scooping her up in his arms and carrying her back to the bed. He dumped her into the middle of the rumpled bedclothes and before she could twist free he came down on top of her, anchoring her beneath him.
For a few moments she fought in blind panic, knowing it was hopeless and yet unable to think logically and conserve her energy. It was the same way it had been that first night in Mexico when she’d hurled herself at him in useless attack.
And just as he had that night, Judd restrained her without hurting her, using his crushing weight and superior strength to hold her flailing arms and pin her writhing legs until her energy waned.
“Let me go, Judd! Let me go!”
“Honor, stop fighting me. Please, stop fighting me,” he muttered hoarsely and then with a low groan he bent his head and stilled her abruptly by taking her mouth with his own.
The shock of his warm, hungry mouth on hers washed through Honor like a tidal wave. Once again she felt the depths of his desire and her resistance faded in the face of it. He wanted her in a way no man had ever wanted her and there was no way she could ignore what that primitive passion did to her senses. No wonder she had longed for the physical relationship to mean something far more important to him. It had meant so much to her that her heart had refused at first to believe the feeling wasn’t mutual.