Love Songs (6 page)

“Hi, pretty lady,” a voice crooned with a deep resonance she would have recognized even had it not been imprinted on her memory so recently. In shock, she brought herself to full awareness. Her brown eyes widened to encompass the thick head of hair, sleep-mussed as was hers, the deep gray orbs which reflected her own image, the lips that were sensual and alive.

Forgetful of both the time and the surroundings, she cried in astonishment, “Alex!” Any further exclamation was drowned as his lips covered hers in a gentle greeting. She gasped, yet was, once again, powerless against his spell, savoring the sweet story his lips told so briefly. When she could breathe again she simply stared at him in amazement as he continued to kneel before her.

“What are
you
doing here at this hour?”

Amusement flitted dangerously in the gaze that swept her semiprone form. “The same thing you are.”

“
You’re
part of the study?” Was that possible? Was that why he had been here earlier? Was that the coincidence that had brought them together?

“Is that so hard to believe? I mean,” he teased her wickedly, “I know that I may be handsome and witty and utterly irresistible during the day,” he counted off the points, “but is it inconceivable that we share this problem as well?”

What else was it he had said they shared—their sense of challenge? It was a reminder that buoyed her through her confusion now. “You have insomnia?”

He nodded.

“No wonder you knew something about the study.” Her thoughts were growing more lucid. “I more or less assumed that it was your family’s role…”

Alex’s expression tensed noticeably. “My family’s position in this community, any power they may wield, is only incidental to my participation in the study.”

It was, ironically, his vehemence that convinced her. Earlier he had been in full command of his charm. Now, in the middle of the night, when they both should have been sleeping like so many of their peers, his shortened fuse was obvious. And she understood the feeling.

“I’m sorry. That came out the wrong way. I’m just so … surprised to see you here.”

“Didn’t I imply that we’d meet again?” He seemed to regain his humor as his gaze held hers steadily.

“You implied a lot more than that! I’d pretty much written you off as a crackpot!”

His grin was slow and enticing. “I do like your humor.” He paused. “Couldn’t sleep either?”

“Afraid not. I’ve been up for a while.”

“Reading anything good?” His attention shifted momentarily to the now-forgotten magazine by her side.

“Very boring.”

Without quite standing, he moved forward. “Move over. You’ve got the best spot.” He took her shoulders to shift her before she could reposition herself. As he slithered into the corner where she had been she looked at him in alarm.

“Now
you’ve
got it. That wasn’t very fair. I was there first.”

“But you’ve got something even better.” In graphic explanation he drew her against him, his body giving her far more exciting support than the sofa ever had. His arm curved around her shoulder; before she knew how her own settled across his middle and she rested comfortably against him. His warmth was as much a relaxant as her deep-breathing efforts had been earlier. Surprisingly, she didn’t resist the lure.

“Comfortable?” he asked softly.

“Ummm.” The scent of him was all male, filling her senses with a creeping euphoria.

Later she was to wonder at her complacency as she lay against Alex, a devastating stranger who had proposed marriage at their first meeting. Now, however, the silence was restorative, filled with a contentment that she savored, regardless of whatever afterthoughts she might have. His breathing was steady, his hands undemanding. At length he spoke with a resonance that flowed soothingly through her.

“I like you this way.”

“What way?”

“Undressed.”

Alanna tilted her head back, only realizing that he wore a burgundy-colored robe of thick terry as her cheek rubbed against it. “I’m not undressed,” she contradicted him staunchly. “I am very properly covered by several layers of fabric.”

“But soft. So very soft,” he hummed against her hair. “And I like your hair down.” His hand moved to gently explore its length. “It’s like silk—golden silk.”

“One hundred brushings a night and very hard to control at times,” she quipped lightly, unable to accept the compliment with the pleasure she felt.

“That’s why you wear it knotted back? For control?”

“Among other things.”

“What things?”

The faint frown that brought her brows together was hidden as she relaxed her head once more. “It’s hard enough projecting an image of efficiency and professionalism at the office without having a loose mop to cloud the issue.”

“Ah.” He caught her gist instantly. “Your male colleagues. Then I totally agree with you. By all means tie your hair up during the day. As long as you wear it down for me.”

“Hmmmm,” she chuckled. “No glasses. Long hair. You’ve got a nearsighted witch.”

“A very beguiling one…” he drawled, his fingers tilting her chin up so he could study her face. “A very beautiful one…”

She was mesmerized, able only to return his gaze, devouring his good looks with helpless greed. Why was he
so
handsome? Or
was
it all physical? There was that aura again—one that surrounded his entire being with a sensuality she could not deny.

Her lips felt parched, her mouth dry. Every nerve end tingled with awareness. She felt herself sucked into the depths of those dark, charcoal eyes—sucked in and consumed, no longer a separate entity. Was that what life with Alex Knight would be like—the loss of the identity she had worked so hard to establish?

With a flash of fear she tried to pull away. But he held her firmly, refusing her bid to escape. “Don’t go. I’m no threat to you.” It was as if he read her mind. “If nothing more, indulge me.
You
know how maddening it is when you can’t sleep. I’m more relaxed now than I’ve felt since I woke up.”

The last thing she wanted was to leave, yet the strength of his power over her was disconcerting. As to his argument—hadn’t Ellen suggested that the participants of the study might help each other? Perhaps, she mused, if there was some distance—
any
distance—between them …

“Just let me sit up,” she suggested, her voice uncharacteristically wobbly. “I’ll stay with you awhile.”

His tone was mocking, yet he released her. “Not exactly what I had in mind, but, if I have no other choice…”

“You don’t.” Alanna sat now at arm’s length. No part of their bodies touched yet, to her dismay, she was as aware of him as ever. Driven to break the bond of raw attraction that sizzled between them, she spoke quickly. “Tell me about yourself, Alex. I really know nothing about you.”

One dark brow rose. “You did pretty well in the cafeteria.”

“That was a game. Tell me something concrete. Like … like…” she grappled with sanity, “… like what you do for a living.”

“I thought everyone knew.” His dry statement puzzled her.

“That’s the second reference you’ve made in the past few minutes to your family’s reputation. Is that bitterness I detect?”

Alex thought for a moment, as though he had never been put to this test before. “Not bitterness. Let’s just call it … resignation. I’m the third generation of my family in this area. It’s often difficult to be preceded by someone else’s reputation.”

“I’m sure you meet the family standards,” she offered in encouragement.

His gaze sharpened. “I meet
my
standards, or, at least, I try to. But I like to be judged on my own merits, rather than those of my family. Do
you
come from a large family?”

Alanna was unaware of his deftness in shifting the conversation back to her until well after she’d fallen into the trap. “No. I had no brothers or sisters.”

“Are your parents living?”

The painful memory forced her to avert her gaze. “They died years ago—my mother, when I was twenty, my father four years later.”

“Then you’re alone?”

She smiled thinly. “Alone … but not lonely, as the saying goes.”

“You have friends?”

“My share. Mostly my work keeps me occupied.”

“Tell me about your work.”

Enough was enough. “Uh-uh. I asked you first. What do you do—every day?”

He looked at her evenly. “I head the Knight Foundation.”

“Which means…?”

“Which means that I have a finger in a lot of pies at any given time.”

Alanna grunted. It was like pulling teeth to get the man down to specifics. Was he always this closemouthed? Or simply with her? As though sensing her frustration, he yielded to her silent plea.

“Right now we’re in the process of merging one of our electronics firms with two others. By forming a larger corporation we will have access to a nationwide network.” The preoccupation of his gaze with her eyes suddenly ended. With slow deliberation he skimmed her neck and shoulders with his eyes, following the soft fabric of her robe to where her breasts swelled. Serious discussion was totally forgotten as Alanna felt the heat within herself begin to rise.

“Do you … ah … do the actual … negotiating…?” She clutched at the conversation, fighting the honeyed currents which flowed around and about her.

His voice was low and at seductive odds with his words. “We have legal counsel for that. But
I
have to be on top of the legal counsel.”

Her whispered “I see” fell victim to the web of arousal his gaze spun. His fingers moved to her shoulders, their tips drawing tiny circles on the silken gown.

“You look so pretty,” he rasped as those fingers rose to thread through the hair that fell by her cheeks. “Do you always wake up looking like this—or did you do it just for me?”

“I didn’t know you would be here!” she cried weakly, her sense of reason suddenly shaky. As his arm moved slowly to draw her closer she grew aware of its sinewed length, bared as it was to the elbow by the robe that barely reached to his knees. It had been bad enough when he had been fully dressed;
this
was sheer madness.

Alex had been right; she
was
different dressed like this. Her proper businesswear had been a shield, perhaps meager, but a shield nonetheless. In it she had known who she was and why she was here. Now she felt exposed—by far more than just the change of attire. Suddenly she felt unsure—and that made her angry. Moving quickly from his embrace, she stood.

“I think I’d better go to bed.” Without looking back she crossed the floor and headed toward her room. She had not gone far enough, however, to miss his low-murmured “Chicken.” It stopped her in her tracks.

Head low, she took a breath. On its own a smile stole to her lips. He knew just how to manipulate her. That challenge … She simply could not turn down a challenge. Shaking her head in grudging admiration, she turned slowly to face him.

“What was that?” She cocked an eyebrow pertly.

Alex rose from the sofa and circled it to stand beside her. His eyes were dark with desire; it took every ounce of restraint for her to hold still. “I called you a chicken. You seem to take the easy way out when the going gets … hot.”

Her hands found her waist. “I’m not taking the easy way out. I’m simply taking the smartest way. As I recall, we’re here for a purpose.” Her words were spoken in self-reproach as much as to the dark form towering above her. “A love affair in the middle of a hospital lounge is a little … tawdry.” Miraculously, her voice remained steady, belying the quivering deep within.

“I couldn’t agree with you more. Let’s go. I’ll put you to bed.”

Before she could protest that arm was once more about her shoulders, burning through her nightclothes, fusing her to his side. Before she could withdraw they had reached her room. Before she could escape through its door—alone—he guided her in.

Then, before she could begin to argue, he pulled her into the circle of his arms. “This may be the best sedative in the world.” And he kissed her.

3

Naked was a mild word for how Alanna felt. It had little to do with her scant covering and everything to do with the raw vulnerability Alex Knight had uncovered. Her senses were stripped of all defense by the powerfully tender persuasion of the lips that covered hers, the hard male body against which his arms molded her.

“Alex, don’t…” she gasped when he abandoned her lips to rain havoc along the sensitive curve of her neck.

“Alanna, do…” he echoed against her ear, nipping its delicate lobe before slowly working his way back to her mouth. “Show me one more time … I can’t quite remember how it was.…”

On the verge of losing control, Alanna had no suitable retort. Instead, she gripped his shoulders for support. “I can’t,” she whispered, knowing that, once she began to give in to him, she would be helpless.