Her eyes were flush with awareness and caution. There was confusion in her deep green pools, but something else, too. Desire. Matching desire. She wanted him. Maybe as much as he wanted her. It didn’t matter because he would have her.
“Want to know something else?” he murmured. “I almost didn’t consider Maddox for the account. Want to know why? Because I didn’t want it to interfere with my pursuit of you.”
He was close now. So close he could feel every little puff of breath that came from her lips. He could see the tiny little nervous swallows that worked her throat up and down. And her mouth. Her luscious, sweet mouth. He wanted to taste it, devour it like candy.
“W-what changed your mind?” she whispered.
“I’m perfectly capable of separating business from pleasure,” he said evenly.
“Evan, we can’t.”
She put her hand on his chest. Big mistake. A current of electricity singed him. They both jumped, but before she could withdraw, he caught her fingers and trapped her hand between his and his chest.
“Just one kiss, Celia. Just one. I have to kiss you. It’s all I’ll demand for now. I can wait for more until we have this account settled.”
Without waiting her consent, he swept his mouth over hers. Finally. Her sweetness exploded onto his tongue the moment he licked over her lips. Her mouth parted in a gasp, and he took full advantage, delving deep into her moist heat.
She made the sweetest sounds. He swallowed them up as he devoured every inch of her mouth. He was transfixed by her full bottom lip. He nipped lightly at it, teasing it to fullness and then he sucked it between his teeth.
Her tongue stroked tentatively over his, just light brushes with the tip and then she grew bolder, taking a more active part in the kiss.
His hands delved into her hair. He loved her hair. Long and glorious, the color like a russet sunset over the desert. The temptation was too great. He’d fantasized about it for too long.
He fumbled with the clip and released its hold on her hair. It tumbled down her back, over his hands like a wave. He gathered the strands between his fingers, mesmerized by their silky smoothness.
He drank deeply, not wanting the moment to end. He could spend hours kissing her, but he wanted more. He wanted to work his mouth down the curve of her jaw to her neck. He wanted to peel every layer of clothing from her body and then run his tongue over her soft skin.
He wondered what her br**sts would feel like in his hands and what her ni**les would taste like, how they’d feel as he sucked them into his mouth.
Oh, yes, he’d spent a lot of time wondering about her br**sts. She never wore clothing that could be
deemed too provocative. She was fashionable, yes, but he secretly wished she’d wear something a little more revealing. It was killing him not to get a hint of her full, ripe br**sts.
Soon. Soon, he’d unwrap all of her. He’d possess her. She’d be his.
He needed air and he broke away only long enough to pull oxygen into his starving lungs. She gasped along with him, and then he started at the corner of her mouth and licked and kissed his way across to the other corner.
Her small hands slid up his chest. It was like a heating element sliding over his skin. She left a blazing trail of fierce need in her wake. His entire body came alive, and all she’d done was touch him. Innocently.
They wound up around his neck and then her fingertips just delved into the hair at his nape. He shuddered, and it was all he could do to retain his tight hold on his control.
His body screamed at him to haul her over his shoulder and drag her caveman-style to the bedroom.
He’d rip off her clothes and spend the night taking her over and over until they both succumbed to exhaustion.
His mind yelled at him to be careful. To take it slow. Not to push her so far away that she never returned.
It was that fear of driving her away permanently that finally pulled him back from the brink of insanity.
With great reluctance, he pulled back. His hands were still tangled up in her hair, and he carefully extricated them from the heavy coil that lay over her shoulders.
Her eyes were cloudy, a gorgeous mix of confusion and desire that had him wanting to throw caution to the wind and continue his seduction.
“That,” he whispered, “is what I’ve been wanting to do ever since I saw you across a crowded room six months ago. Now you tell me this has anything to do with Maddox Communications and Reese Enterprises.”
Her hand fluttered to her mouth and she stared at him with shocked awareness.
“Oh, God, Evan. What are we going to do?”
He smiled gently and slowly pulled her hand away from her swollen lips.
“What we’re going to do is get your pitch out of the way tomorrow morning. Whatever happens afterward, we take it as it comes.”
Eight
There was no need for Celia to set her alarm. She never went to sleep. She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, her senses completely shattered by something as simple as a kiss.
No. That kiss could never ever be called simple.
She’d thought to go over her pitch. Mentally replay everything she wanted to say until it flowed seamlessly through her mind. But all she’d been able to do was lay there and wonder how she was going to manage to keep things with Evan on a strictly professional level.
He kissed like a dream.
He’d make love like a dream.
And the sick thing was she’d never find out.
She rolled over and buried her face in her pillow.
Celia, Celia.
The admonishment burned like acid on her tongue. She was walking a very tight, very dangerous line. It was bad enough that she was here with Evan. Sharing a suite with Evan. Her groan was swallowed up by the pillow.
The least she could have done was insisted on a separate room, but that wouldn’t have gone far in convincing his family that they were happily engaged.
Friendship. Okay, she could handle a friendship with Evan. She liked him. He asked her to consider this a personal favor. As a friend. And she’d forget the kiss. Forget that he had made his intention to make love to her abundantly clear.
All she had to do was get through her presentation, go to a rehearsal dinner, wedding and reception with Evan—as his fiancée—and then she could go home and put him firmly back in his neat, tidy little corner.
She struggled out of bed, knowing it would take her the better part of an hour to erase the look of someone who hadn’t slept. Evan had ordered room service to be brought up at eight, and she wanted plenty of time to go over her notes again.