Body Heat (Vintage Category Romance) (5 page)

Blaire
shivered and sighed; his chin rested on her forehead. Wiggling backward a bit, she raised her face to his and looked square into his open gray eyes, which incidentally didn’t look cold and stabbing anymore, but warm and full of something she really didn’t want to name at that moment.

T
hey lay there, face to face, practically nose to nose, each studying the other, until Blaire did something she’d never done in her entire life. Something so bizarre, something so uncharacteristic of her, she thought she’d gone out of her mind. Something she’d never before even dared to initiate.

She leaned forward and kissed him ever so softly on the lips.

Chapter Three

And he kissed back.

His lips captured hers and his arms tightened their hold around her back. He smelled of wood smoke and tasted of coffee. The whiskers over his lip tickled slightly but also felt sort of raw and manly. She liked it. His flannel shirt, as well as his body, held the heat between them. Blaire’s lips seared with the moist intent of his angled across hers. His tongue dipped, and she parted her lips cautiously and then let caution to the wind as he groaned and deepened the intensity of the kiss. She groaned a little back and gathered the fabric of his shirt in her hands.

Passion, deep-seated in her belly twittered up in sensual ribbons and she wanted to open up her body and let him in. Oh, God. That thought was ridiculous. But it was what she wanted.

But she broke away, pushed him back.

“
Mornin’, Pixie,” he said.

Blaire leapt back out of his grasp, berating herself for her stupidity.
What was she doing kissing the man? What was she doing in his bed? She glanced down at herself. Where did she get this T-shirt? How in the hell did she allow herself to get suckered in by his flannel shirt? Darian MacGlenary held an evil, sexy look in his eye. Most definitely evil. Temptation. Oh God. And she was frightened beyond belief. Not only of him but also of herself.

“
Um…yeah. Mornin’.”

She scrambled
to the far corner of the bed near the headboard. Blaire sat up, drew her knees to her chest, and draped the blankets over them protectively. It was then that she risked a look at him. He was still lying on his side, his head propped on his fist, legs crossed leisurely at the ankles. Smiling.

“
Why are you still lying there? Shouldn’t you get up and…do something?”

Darian shrugged.
“Nothing to do right now.”

He still watched her.
Blaire looked everywhere but at him until she couldn’t stand it anymore. She looked at his lips.

“
You know I really need to get out of here before somebody kisses…”
Oh damn
.
“I mean, misses me.” Blaire looked away in blushing embarrassment. She felt MacGlenary’s grin on her.

“
You said ‘kisses’.”

Her gaze snapped to his.
“I
meant
‘misses’.”

“
That’s not what you said.”

Her eyes narrowed.
“It’s what I meant.”

“
Really?”

“
Yeah.”

“
Oh.”

By this time MacGlenary had rolled over on his stomach closer to her and Blaire had leaned in his direction to make her point.
She looked at his lips again, remembering the tickle of his mustache, but also remembering the eruption of emotion and the warmth she felt with his arms wrapped around her.

She hadn
’t realized she was staring at him until she saw his lips move.

“
Want to try it again?”

Blaire sat up,
ramrod straight. “What?”

MacGlenary chuckled.
“C’mon, Pixie.” He pointed to his lips. “Lay another one on me.”

He was taunting her!
How dare he. She, an innocent victim of circumstance, holed up in this ungodly cabin with an uncivilized man who wears flannel shirts. And he was taunting her?

“
Go lay one on yourself.”

He snorted and she jerked the covers back in an attempt of escape.
But he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. MacGlenary was on her in a flash. Beneath him, his hard muscled body covering every inch of her five-foot-four frame and then some. Every time she breathed in, her chest rose and the thin, cotton T-shirt she wore did nothing to protect her hardened nipples from his chest. They seemed to graze the front of his shirt every few seconds. And she didn’t like what it did to her.

Well, actually, she did.

No, she didn’t.

Darian took first one of her hands, then another, and lifted them over her head.
She sucked in a shaking breath as he pinned them there with his one big hand. His stare bore down on her but had lost the evil teasing look of a moment earlier. She was momentarily frightened.

He rocked against her
, his arousal more than apparent.

Oh, God.
Blaire tried to squirm out of his grasp. Oh. God. It was useless. He was too powerful. What was he going to do?

“
Please…” The solitary word came out as a pitiful plea.

Darian
was suddenly angrier at the plea than he was when her lips brushed fire across his a few minutes ago. He didn’t like what he was doing, but it had to be done. He had to scare her the hell away from him. She was here for several days and there was no way he was going to be stuck in the cabin with a woman who was pining after him twenty-four hours a day. No way. Things needed to be set straight from this moment on.

“
What’s the matter, don’t you want to kiss me again?”

Her frightened
gaze gave him the answer he needed.

Lowering
, his lips narrowly an inch from hers, he continued. “Little girls shouldn’t go messing around in places they’re not welcome.”

Blaire
’s voice squeaked out. “I’m not a little girl.”

Darian smiled.
“Yes you are. You’re a pixie.”

“
I’m not a pixie, I’m a woman.” Her eyes narrowed.

Darian felt her
body soften under him. Dammit! He dropped down and cradled her into him. Both of their breathing slowed. He wanted to push back the red strands of hair at her temple with his free hand and kiss right above her ear.

Fuck, he was so conflicted.
“Hmm.” He gazed at her lips. “Maybe you are a woman.”

She squirmed and pushed against him.
“Let me go. I want to get out of here.”

Darian shook his head from side to side slowly.
“No. You can’t.”

“
But you just said…”

“
What I just said was that you don’t mess around where you shouldn’t…unless you’re prepared to go places you haven’t been before.” Her lips were like a perfect strawberry set in cream. They parted, slightly, and her eyes half-closed. Then he realized, she was just as aroused as he.

Retreat. Dammit, MacGlenary.
Back off. You aren’t prepared to go there, either.

He snapped his head back.
“The thing is this,” he growled. “I don’t want to be kissed, lady. I’m not free game, understand? And we’re stuck here together for a few days. So, if you get those urges to kiss somebody again, you can just hightail your little fanny up the holler a mile or two. I’m sure there will be somebody there who will oblige. I can’t guarantee how well they know how to treat a woman, but I’m sure they won’t turn you away.”

Blaire sat silent staring
up at him, and he immediately hated his crassness. “I can’t leave, remember?”

Darian sat up and swiped at his beard.
“Oh, yes. Believe me. I remember.” Quickly then, he pushed off the bed and crossed the room. He went to the sink, grabbed the kettle, and started pumping water into it. The thought of her not being able to leave hit him square in the chest. How in the hell would he avoid her, and how she made him feel, for the next day or so until he could get her out of here?

“
MacGlenary? Just one question.”

His back stiffened.

“Just what do
you
do when you get the urge to kiss somebody? Is there somebody up the holler there that obliges your needs?”

****

For a long moment, everything in the room stilled. Silence. Blaire watched the muscles tense and ripple across his back. The tendons at the side of his neck popped out. The pumping motion stopped. She waited for several long seconds; then just when she thought he was going to turn around and face her, he stalked away from the sink, put on his outerwear—insulated overalls, thick woolen socks, work boots, knit cap, a heavy insulated jacket, and gloves. Then without saying a word, he went to the door, opened it and left her alone in the cabin.

She
winced as the door slammed shut. “Guess not,” she muttered. “Or you wouldn’t be so damned horny.”

****

Darian tramped through the frost-fragile weeds and briars, huffing spurts of semi-transparent breath out his mouth and nostrils with each hurried step he took, until he reached the woods. Nearly twenty minutes passed before he allowed his gait to slow and his brain to decipher exactly what had just happened back at the cabin.

He hiked deeper into the woods and then
, finally, stopped. His eyes closed. After inhaling deeply, he exhaled long and hard, forcing every molecule of oxygen out of his lungs. With the expulsion of air from his body, he also felt the tension of the past day and a half flow off his shoulders. Rolling his head from side to side, the muscles in his neck semi-relaxed, as much as they could in the cold; then he twisted from side to side to rid his back of the stiffness there. And felt somewhat better.

Snapping his eyes open,
though, he realized there was nothing he could do to release the physical tension he felt below his belt. Absolutely nothing. Nothing, that is, that the pixie in his bed couldn’t cure.

Dammit.
Darian sat on a fallen log and dropped his head into his hands. This couldn’t be happening. He had taken every precaution. He’d purposely seen to it that he had no opportunity to ever get involved with a woman again. A woman! Damn it all to hell! He’d gone to the ends of the earth to avoid seeing any woman—and a woman had gone to the ends of the earth to find him. And why?

He needed to find out. Quit skirting the obvious.

He rose quickly. “It’s about high time I find out who the pixie is who’s been occupying my bed the past two nights.”

****

Blaire stood at the window watching MacGlenary stomp off across the hill toward the woods, her breath fogging up the window. She trailed him until she saw the last of his knit cap go down over the hill and out of sight. Exhaling with a harrumph, Blaire watch the ice crystals form on the inside of the window, radiating out in an intricate and beautiful pattern etched across the glass. She started to reach up and scratch it off the window but then stopped herself. It was too pretty, she thought, but all too soon it would be gone.

She
shivered and folded her arms about her. It seemed rather chilly next to the window but as the temperature of the room rose, she knew, the ice would melt. Unlike her. The intricate patterns of ice within her had never been beautiful; they’d only pierced her with icy shards, cutting her to ribbons. And at times, the pain was excruciating. The ice princess. The frost queen. The goddess of chill. The femme fatale of frigidity. She’d been called them all. Nothing would warm her, they would say. Nothing. And Blaire had tried. God knows, she’d tried, but there had never been any man desirable enough to crack her frosty exterior, let alone penetrate the layers of ice underneath. So she’d simply given up on that ever happening. And in this day and age when a man came upon a twenty-nine year old virgin, they either backed off wondering what was wrong with her, or they decided they would be the first to travel where no man had gone before. Both of which disgusted her to no end.

Blaire stepped away from the window and glanced back at the bed.
Sudden warmth swept over her and she shook away the sensation. No, she thought. Not this man. This man would not be the man to kindle the flame in the ice princess. Not the one she’d dreamed of. Not her white-hot knight. The one she needed to melt her. No. She didn’t want him to be the one. She wouldn’t let it happen, that was all there was to it. He was all hairy and cuddly and muscular and tender, all at the same time. Desirable characteristics, yes. And quite a welcome change from the staunch, eager, sex-hungry ladder-climbers she usually dated. The men Mastin threw at her. But no, Darian MacGlenary was not the one.

He would not be the one to light her fire.

She hoped.

Blaire stepped away from the window, favoring her right ankle.
The swelling had gone down, but there was still a twinge when she put any pressure on it. Glancing over at the fire, she knew why she felt so chilled. MacGlenary had left in such a huff, he’d left the fire untended this morning. The fire. In the fireplace, she reminded herself. Not the one embedded deep inside her, however small it might be. Funny. Before now she never even knew it was there. Fearing the flames were beginning to lick at her from deep inside somewhere, Blaire panicked, for she didn’t know how to put them out.