Murder List

Chapter Thirty-four

She wasn’t messing around.

She didn’t give him time to ask her to explain. Clutching those lapels in a death grip, she stretched up on tiptoes and kissed him, long and hard, frantically and passionately, just the way she had fantasized. One absolutely perfect kiss, she told herself, one powerful, all-consuming kiss that would surely satisfy her unreasonable craving. Then she would let go of him, unlock the door, and send him home.

It was a good plan, really it was. It would have worked too if he had cooperated and remained passive. He didn’t cooperate, though. He participated. And then he took over. His arms suddenly wrapped around her, and he held her tight as his mouth slanted over hers with amazing control. After about five seconds it became apparent to her that he had far more experience at this sort of thing than she did. The man made kissing an art form. His hands slid down her back. His mouth never left hers as he lifted her up against him. Oh, no, he definitely wasn’t remaining passive. She probably should have spelled out the plan ahead of time, she supposed, and that was one of the last coherent, though admittedly idiotic, thoughts she was able to hold onto while he kissed her senseless. Her hands were now around his neck-had she moved them there or had he?-and her fingers were tugging on his hair.

He didn’t force her to part her lips. She did that all on her own. She didn’t push him away when his tongue slipped inside. She gave as good as she was getting, and then some.

When he finally ended the kiss, she was shivering all over. She clung to him because she knew that if she let go, her legs wouldn’t support her. His hands were around her waist and she thought maybe he was holding her up, but she couldn’t be sure.

Neither one of them seemed inclined to let go. She wanted a little bit more, just one more kiss, she thought, before she lost her nerve, and reason rushed in.

He must have wanted the same thing, because he tilted her head back and kissed her again. Though it didn’t seem possible, this kiss was even better. And hotter. He was a master of seduction and so smooth he scared her. She tightened her hold and tried to get closer to him. It was a scorching kiss that made her burn. She had never felt this way before. Never had a kiss affected her so passionately.

Alec pulled back, let out a ragged breath, and tried without success to move away. He couldn’t make himself let go of her. Hell, he just didn’t want to. His head dropped to the crook of her neck, and he took a couple of deep breaths, trying hard to recover. He loved the way she felt in his arms. He loved her scent, and he loved the taste of her. He was having real trouble getting it together. How could a couple of kisses shake him like this?

He said out loud what he was thinking. “Damn, Regan.” His voice was as rough as gravel.

“Was that a good ‘damn’ or a bad one?” she panted.

He had to think about it before he answered. He lifted his head and looked into her eyes, saw the passion he’d ignited there, and felt tremendous satisfaction. And desire, he acknowledged, for a whole lot more.

“It was a good ‘damn.’ Too good.” He was picturing her naked underneath him when he added, “We should probably stop while we-”

She put her index finger over his mouth to silence him. “Or…” She dragged the word out.

He grabbed her hand and placed it flat against his chest. “Or what?” A hint of a smile softened his expression.

Don’t lose your nerve, don’t lose your nerve, she silently chanted. She took a breath and whispered, “Or we could not stop.”

His hands moved to her shoulders and even as he was shaking his head at her, he was noticing how smooth and warm and soft her skin was.

“You do know what kissing will lead to, don’t you?”

It was a stupid question, and he didn’t expect or wait for an answer. “A heap of misery, that’s what. I’m not a machine, sweetheart. I can’t just turn it on and off. You know I want you. I’m burning up with the need to-” He suddenly stopped, took a deep breath, and said, “But you also need to know that I don’t want what comes with it.”

Did he realize he was shaking her? She didn’t think so. He wasn’t hurting her. In fact, his touch was surprisingly gentle and sweet. He wanted her. He’d said those very words to her, and he couldn’t take them back. She was thrilled, and yet frustrated, because he obviously wasn’t happy about it. The look on his face was so intense and angry, and intimidating, she suddenly felt as though she’d just poked a lion.

She pushed his hands away. “Tell me, Alec, what comes with it?”

He was glaring at her now. “I’m leaving Chicago, remember? I’ve made that clear, haven’t I? I’m packing up and getting out of here. Understand that?”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Okay then.”

“Okay, what?”

Alec gritted his teeth. He guessed he was going to have to spell it out for her. “The last thing I need or want is to leave a mess behind.”

Whoa. She didn’t like hearing that. Her eyes turned a darker blue, and her face became flushed. She was angry, all right, but he wasn’t going to take the words back.

“And I’m the mess?”

He threaded his fingers through his hair to keep himself from grabbing her and kissing her until she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He shook his head. Bad plan, he told himself. He wasn’t going to give in to his desire. No way. He could be as tough as steel when he needed to, and he was always in control.

“What I’m trying to tell you is…”

“I’m a mess.”

“Okay, that’s it. I’m through trying to be diplomatic about this.”

She blinked. “Telling me I’m a mess is being diplomatic?”

“Damn right, and you are. A mess, that is. And that ‘damn’ wasn’t a good one.”

He ripped off the jacket of his tux and tossed it on the chair. “It’s hotter than hell in here.”

He began to roll up his shirtsleeves to keep his hands busy. Better to tear his clothes than hers. That skinny little nothing of a dress she was wearing was so amazingly perfect on her. He didn’t want to ruin it, but he didn’t want her wearing it with any other man either, and how could he justify that backward reasoning?

She couldn’t hold his stare long. She focused on his chin and said, “I know I put you on the spot. It’s just that this is the first time I’ve ever tried to… you know… and I’m apparently causing you extreme anxiety. I’m just not any good at it. I realize my mistake. I just didn’t put enough thought into it.”

“Into what?”

He couldn’t be that dense. No one could. Was he deliberately toying with her?

“Into what?” he repeated when she didn’t answer.

Seducing you, you idiot. That’s what she wanted to say. She didn’t, though. Some inhibitions were just too firmly entrenched to get past. Besides, Alec was right. It would become messy, and she had the feeling she’d be the one all messed up when he left.

“You’re right,” she said. “Becoming involved, even for one night, would make things… awkward.”

He didn’t look relieved. She edged around him, flipped off her heels, and continued on to the French doors. Alec had left one open when he’d checked the bedroom. She pushed the other door back and then turned around to tell him good night.

He stared at the king-sized bed for a long minute. He felt a tightness gathering in his chest, and his mouth was suddenly dry. Every possible fantasy about her bombarded him. Hell, it was already messy.

And he wasn’t going anywhere.