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She gazed at him. "You shaved funny." She reached up and lightly touched his cheek. "You missed a spot here."
She seemed so sweet and awkward and tentative. Without thinking, he took her wrist. He rubbed the sliver of her warm, smooth skin that was exposed between her coat sleeve and her winter gloves.
Somehow, the two of them melted together. His hands bracketed her shoulders, then her face, flushed and warm and happy to see him. Her body moved closer to him, inside the private circle they made in the corner of a bus shelter.
He kissed her. Oh, man, did he kiss her. Like a dying man given a reprieve.
"I did not intend for that to happen," she whispered, breathless, pulling away from him for just a moment.
"I know you're mad at me, with good reason, and I'm sorry." He captured her mouth again. Opened her lips with his own. She was hot and breathless and she tasted like mint gum. That struck him more than anything she could ever have said or done-that she was chewing mint gum like he did.
He groaned and stroked her tongue with his. Her knees started to buckle.
"I...thought you might be angry with me." She gasped.
"Never," he growled.
"But my reaction-"
He kissed her one more time, then lifted her chin so she was gazing into his eyes. Cupped the back of her head so she could see the intensity of his feelings, of what he had felt, all last night, lying awake and thinking of her, unable to sleep. "You had every right to walk away. I kept something from you that I shouldn't have, for too long."
He sighed and started again, saying what he really meant to say, the heart of it. "That part of us is over. Okay? We're not going to do that again to each other."
ISABEL FELT DRUGGED. She was so thoroughly kissed that all she could think of was how she wanted more of Jacob.
She had a vague sense that her life was confused, that her plans had gone topsy-turvy and that the encounter with him hadn't played out the way she'd envisioned.
It was so unlike her to be losing control, to be doing something insane like kissing a man on the sidewalk on Broadway. She was supposed to be the inquisitor now-the one with the secret. Cautious and careful had to be her MO. She really had planned to phone Jacob during her dinner break, but he'd surprised her in that way he always had, of cleverly shaking her up. He was the bodyguard who walked beside her, the watcher with the intense eyes and the slow-burning fire always banked inside him, waiting to blaze. Jacob never gave up on her.
His delight in her was heady. The attention was exactly what she needed and wanted.
Maybe it was the feeling that Christmas was near. On the corner, she could smell the balsam from a tiny stand where a vendor was hawking his trees. At home there would be roasting chestnuts sold on the pavement. A warm spot to stand around on a cold December afternoon.
Without thinking or a.n.a.lyzing, she took what she wanted, pressing herself against Jacob's warm chest. He opened his coat around her, closing her inside with him. Gazing down at her, he reverently stroked her hair.
"Let's go somewhere," he said. "Now."
"But...? Isn't that crazy...?"
"Isabel, let's play hooky," he said with a gleam in his eye.
She wasn't sure exactly what that word meant, but she had an idea she would like it very much indeed.
She breathed in deeply, and biting her lip, she nodded quickly, before she lost her nerve. He glanced behind him, and there was the beep of a car horn. Eddie, at the wheel of their black SUV. Of course.
"Can we walk to your place?" Jacob asked.
"I..." She licked her lips. She felt daring. Going to lunch and joining her study group to prepare for next week's business law exam was suddenly out of the question. Jacob was lunch, and her study group could wait.
"Let's go to your flat." If she was to continue to a.s.sess him, it was the perfect place.
He didn't hesitate. "Your wish is my command."
"Just give me one moment to call my study group and cancel."
He nodded, waiting.
Charles didn't pick up the call, but Isabel quickly sent him a text message and then tossed her phone in her purse. "Let's go," she said to Jacob, feeling breathless.
She followed him to the rear pa.s.senger door of the SUV Eddie drove. He helped her up, into the seat, which wasn't easy because she wore her boots and a short pleated skirt under her raincoat. Once she was settled in, he leaned over her to address Eddie.
"We're going to my place," Jacob said.
Eddies brows rose. "Uh-huh."
With her chin on her chest, burrowed beneath her coat collar, Isabel had a split-second opportunity to collect her wits and rethink her actions before she let herself be whisked away with Jacob.
Was she certain she knew what she was doing? Was this really wise of her?
Do it, the daring part of her said. Relax and take a look round his flat. See what's what. Talk with him. Dig deeper into his motivations.
But that wasn't what happened at all. As soon as they reached his building, he took her hand and then like the good bodyguard he was, he opened the door, blocking her from the cold wind with his body. He led her a few feet across the pavement and into the small building she recognized as his home.
When they got inside the foyer-it was really just a three-level town house, she realized-and up the stairs partway, she stopped him on a quiet landing.
Jacob turned to her, drawing her close. "You know what?" he asked, gazing at her.
"Wh-what?" she said breathlessly, feeling hot all over.
"Holding back my feelings-" he brushed her lips with his "-has been-" his teeth caught her bottom lip "-a mistake."
And then he kissed her. Heat coursing through her, she touched his head, running her fingers through his short, clipped hair. He devoured her with his mouth, tasting of mint.
Her heart was pounding, her breathing quickened. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s felt full and heavy, and she squirmed against him.
He opened her coat, and with warm hands stroked up her leg and under her short skirt. She'd worn boots with warm knee socks, but beneath her skirt she just wore pants-panties, the New York lingerie store clerk called them. His palm pressed over her mound, his finger drew aside the elastic of her new cotton panties-now damp with her desire-and his thumb stroked her bare flesh.
She bucked, from the irrational shock over what he was doing-he had touched her so intimately, so publicly, where anyone could see them!-as well as from the sensation he gave her. Waves of pleasure were building slowly within her. His low voice spoke against her skin, his blue eyes, deep as the ocean, gazed into hers. "I'm not holding back what I feel for you any longer."
She s.h.i.+vered. "O-oh," she said.
His thumb caressed her softly, over and over, around and around that spot she could not believe he'd dared to breach. A significant barrier was coming down between them, quickly, and rather than fighting it, she welcomed it. She gasped slightly and moved against his palm. "Jacob, I..." Somewhere, her brain was trying to form words but failing.
Oh, he felt so nice. She wasn't used to this treatment. She gazed into Jacob's eyes as he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her, his tongue caressing her tongue, his thumb creating more pleasure than she could stand.
He was destroying her composure, surely and swiftly.
He pressed his lips to her ear. "I'm not holding back anymore, Isabel."
"No. Don't. Please." That was all she could manage to gasp.
He shocked her again, where she thought she couldn't be shocked any longer. With a last gentle kiss on her lips, he withdrew his mouth and his hand. She felt naked without him.
And then he lifted her skirt and lowered his head.
She gasped loudly.
After her surprise pa.s.sed, she sighed and relaxed into him. He felt amazing. Amazing, amazing, amazing. Jacob was amazing. Tension was building in her-sweet, easy tension-and it was bringing her to a height she would soon fly from. She rested her fingers against his head, needing to climax with him....
Just then, a door below them opened. Jacob lifted his head and gently put her panties back in place, then smoothed her skirt down.
With serious eyes, he looked into hers. "We have to move now, Isabel."
"I...can't..."
"I'll help you." He took her hand.
Feeling more grounded in her own body than she ever had before, she reached up to him and pulled him down to her, kissing him, tasting herself in his mouth.
Wordlessly he smiled at her, slung her laptop over his shoulder and led her up the carpeted stairs.
He squeezed her hand tightly as he unlocked the door to his flat and drew her inside.
Jacob Ross did not make love to her with efficiency, with urgency, or-that first time, at least-with humor, but with all the intensity in his heart and soul. He burned for her, and he was determined to make her burn, too.
Isabel had never experienced anything like this. With his gaze locked on hers, Jacob set her laptop down and then lovingly undressed her. He kissed each part of her as though his kisses were meant to start a fire of need and want within her.
Her raincoat went first, and then her boots, her woolen socks unrolled. Then her blouse, her bra, the damp cotton panties.
He left the pleated skirt on her. The female version of the Scottish kilt she'd made him wear. And the scratchiness of the wool against her bare b.u.m felt incredibly s.e.xy.
But what he'd done to her on the landing had been foreplay, and she was burning hot now. She wanted him to enter her and consummate his pa.s.sion. They hadn't moved five feet beyond his front door. Wearing just her short skirt, she undressed him just as carefully.
He picked her up and brought her to his bed. She felt the soft mattress beneath her, the tenderness with which he held her in his arms. He got protection from somewhere, and she drew her knees up for him; wanted him to enter and stroke her. He kissed her, gently, and when he came inside her he paused, sighing. "Heaven," he murmured.
She cupped his face. Jacob. Ran her hands down the length of his smooth, muscled back. Around broad shoulders that supported her.
Kissing, sighing, they made love slowly. Such a delicious feeling flooding her entire body, from the tips of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s to her toes. She arched her back, crying and gasping. Isabel wasn't usually a physical person, not someone who cried out and who burned. Normally she was controlled, in possession of herself, not as in tune with her own desires.
But not with Jacob. He was entirely physical. He took her body and he brought them both to climax, a long, delicious ride that was...perfect. Sweet and fulfilling and full of tenderness and release.
There was no control left in her anymore. And it felt nice not to be in control, for once.
This was a man she could easily make love to for all her days.
ISABEL WOKE TO late afternoon sun slanting across the pillow. Jacob was sleeping on his back, a sheet covering just his waist, while she'd slept with her head pillowed on his chest.
Stretching, she glanced at the clock. They'd been sleeping soundly for four hours. She didn't need to leave yet. They still had time together.
"That's the best sleep I've had in weeks," he murmured, running his hands through her hair.
"Me, too."
"Usually, I toss and turn. Sometimes going to bed with the music on helps, but having you here is better." He turned to his side, s.h.i.+fting her to the mattress beside him. She leaned her head on her arm and smiled at him.
"Want to stay in bed for a while longer?" he asked. "I'm up for more hooky." He glanced at the clock and winced. "Or we could order some early dinner."
"I'm supposed to be working on the take-home final exam for my business law course," she murmured.
It didn't faze him. "Bring your books here if you want, and I'll help you."
"How?" she asked, laughing. "My exam is for business law, not criminal law."
"I know." He continued to sift her hair through his fingers. "I finished two years of law school, so let me guess-your survey course covers basic contracts, torts, property..." He paused. "What else? Corporations?"
"You mean you're a lawyer, too?"
"No. I never finished my third year or sat for the bar exam."
She sat up. "How is it that you're such a Renaissance man?"
He smiled. "I'm not." He rolled over and stretched. "I went to law school nights the first few years I worked for the NYPD, mostly to appease my mom. But I'm drawn to law enforcement. What can I say?"
She drew her knees under her arms and wiggled her toes. On Jacob's nightstand, she saw a small book beneath his iPod. She reached past the iPod and picked it up.
The back of the dust jacket had a familiar color portrait of the Scottish poet Robert Burns. She turned it over. "Burns" was all the cover said.
Inside, one page was dog-eared. Isabel flipped to it. "A Red, Red Rose" was the poem Jacob had marked.
She pressed her hand to her heart. There was so much more to Jacob than she'd realized. And here was proof that he'd been affected by her, even before they'd been physically intimate.
Overcome, she lifted the bedsheet and joined him there, stretching out on top of him. She already felt imprinted to him, to the texture and scent and taste of his naked skin. To the comforting feel of his kiss. His mouth quirked into a smile, and as she kissed him, he groaned and stroked her body.
"I can't get enough of you, you know," he murmured.
"That's what I was hoping."
They made love again. Then they ate. They talked, and the shadows lengthened so it was dark again.
A part of Isabel knew she shouldn't be doing this, that they still had issues between them. Furthermore, outside this bedroom, they each had commitments, and those commitments clashed. She knew that she was only hurting herself in the long term by bonding with him now. But she couldn't stop herself.
Partly out of guilt, while he was dressing and also on the phone with Eddie, discussing a court date they had for the next day, she dressed quickly and took heed of her uncle's advice. She walked round his flat and made note of everything she saw.
In a small, spa.r.s.e kitchen area, she observed that he did not cook much. His refrigerator held mainly beverages-juice, water, milk, beer-and a stick of b.u.t.ter. The freezer contained only ice cubes. In the cabinets were boxes of cereal and a loaf of bread.