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“Yes,” she said breathlessly, and he made a sound low in his throat, pushed up her skirt, slid his hand up her leg and cupped the hs

The shock of his touch, the raw sexuality of it, shot like lightning through Laurel’s blood A soft cry broke frorabbed for his wrist What she felt—what he washer feel—was almost more than she could bear

“Damian,” she sobbed, “Damian, please”

“Tell me what you want,” he said in a fierce whisper “Say it”

You, she thought, I want you

She did Oh, she did She wanted him in a way she’d never wanted anyshe couldn’t define

The half-formed realization terrified her, and she twisted her face away fro mouth

“Listen tointo his wrist “I don’t think—”

“Don’t think,” he said, “not tonight,” and before she could respond, he thrust his hands into her hair, lifted her face to his and kissed her

It was not the civilized thing to do

Daain

The sa in her blood as in his He felt it in her every sigh, her caresses, her hungry response to his kisses But she’d started to draw back, frightened, he suspected, of the passionate stor between them

Hell, he couldn’t blame her

So he didn’t pretend to understand The only thing he was sure of was that whatever this was, it was too powerful, too eleive up this moment

Minutes ago, when he’d touched her, when he’d felt the heat of her and she’d given that soft, keening cry of surrender, he’d damn near ripped off her panties, unzipped his fly and buried himself deep inside her

That he hadn’t done it had had little to do with propriety, or even with reason, though it would have been nice to tell himself so The truth was simpler, andneed to undress her slowly, to savor her naked beauty with his eyes and hands and mouth

He wanted to watch her face as he slowly caressed her, to see her pupils grow enormous with pleasure, to touch her and stroke her until she ild for his possession He wanted her in bed, his bed, naked in his ar toward a cli either of theh the intensity of his need was setting off warning bells, he didn’t give a damn Not now His body was hot and hard; he wanted Laurel , or anyone, in this world

She’d told hientleentleman, not from the moment of his birth Now, as he cupped her face in his hands and whispered her name, as her eyes opened and met his, he knew that he’d sooner face the fires of hell than start pretending to be a gentleht

He lived in an apartment on Park Avenue

It was a penthouse duplex, reached by a private elevator that opened onto a dihted foyer that rose two stories into darkness If he had servants, they were not visible

The elevator doors slid shut, and they were alone

Shadows, black-velvet soft and deep, wrapped around the beat of her heart

There was still time She could say, “This was a mistake,” and demand to be taken home Damian wouldn’t like it, but what did that matter? She was neither a fool nor a tramp, and surely only a woman as one or both would be on her way to bed with a o

Damian’s hands closed on her shoulders He turned her toward hiical thought from her mind

“Laurel,” he said, and she went into his arms

He kissed her hard, lifting her against hiainst his erection His mouth teased hers open He bit down on her bottoue, until she was tre his jacket for support

“Say it now,” he said in a savage whisper “Tell me what you want”

The ansas in her eyes, but she gave it voice

“You,” she said in a broken whisper, “you, you—”