One-Click Buy: November Harlequin Presents (101 page)

‘I don't understand.'

‘Oh, but I think you do!' He was pinning her with his eyes as he voiced a question most would never have dared. ‘How did someone as young and as beautiful as you get so cynical?'

‘Cynical.' Lily smiled and frowned at the same time—cynical was the
last
word that she'd use to describe herself. She adored her life, her family, her friends, was happy, motivated and truly believed that the world and the opportunities it offered were there for the taking.

‘Yep, cynical,' Hunter insisted. ‘All this talk about not believing in love—maybe you shouldn't knock it till you try it.'

‘I tried it once and didn't like it.' She threw his own words back at him but despite her best attempts Lily's dismissive voice couldn't disguise the pain that was there.

‘What happened?'

‘I don't want to talk about it.'

‘For someone who makes a living getting people to open up, you're incredibly reluctant to share.'

‘There's not much to tell.'

‘Try me.'

Her eyes jerked to his, saw the challenge that was there and met it head on. ‘OK, then. I was engaged for two years—we were actually going to bring forward the wedding in the hope my father would be able to come.'

‘But?' Hunter asked because clearly there was one.

‘My father took a sudden turn for the worse—and two days before he died I found Mark, my wonderful fiancé, in bed with my supposed best friend. There—is that enough information for you?'

He didn't respond to her sarcasm and again he offered no sympathy, didn't even acknowledge her pain, just fired another direct question. ‘So you ended it?'

‘No.' She watched his eyes narrow at her response. ‘I was too busy dealing with my mother, the hospital. There was just so much going on…' Her voice wobbled a touch and Hunter jumped in.

‘You didn't even confront him?'

‘Nope…' Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. ‘I just put it in the too-hard basket. The last thing Mum needed was more upset—she was really close to Mark, and for all the world Mark was the perfect fiancé when my father died. You should have seen him take over, calling relatives, arranging the funeral, even holding my hand through the service. I can still hear everyone telling me how lucky I was to have him—in fact, if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes, I'd never have believed he could be unfaithful. I'd probably be married to him now if I hadn't found out—still be living in a fool's paradise.'

‘Where is he now?'

‘With Janey—my one-time best friend. Apparently, as Mark likes to tell it, I was a bit depressed after my father died and froze him out—they still insist that nothing happened for months after we broke up.'

‘You're better off without them.' Hunter shrugged, not remotely moved by her story. ‘But one swallow doesn't make a summer.'

‘Sorry?'

‘So, your ex was a bastard—hardly enough to judge an entire species by.'

‘It was enough at the time,' Lily countered, but two spots of colour were burning on her cheeks, his scrutiny unnerving as he refused to accept her sorry tale.

‘Come on, Lily, you're a sensible girl—relationships end for far less—you probably were a right old misery to be with at the time. Now, I'm not saying he was right to do what he did, but I'm sure you can see where the relationship started to go wrong.'

‘Are you always this sensitive?'

‘Not always.' Hunter responded to her sarcasm with a brand of his own. ‘But given we've only just met, I didn't want to be too harsh.' He stopped teasing then, his eyes assessing her for the longest moment, his voice serious when finally it came. ‘What else happened to you, Lily?'

‘Nothing!' She answered him too quickly, her voice a touch too shrill, and if she'd been strapped to a lie detector it would have blown a fuse at her pathetic attempt at denial. ‘Isn't that enough to be going on with?'

He stared at her through narrowed eyes and Lily dragged hers away, his scrutiny unnerving, as if somehow he could see deep inside her. But just when she thought he'd push harder, just when she was on the verge of maybe even telling, thankfully, regretfully even, he pulled away. ‘For now,' Hunter said, pulling his car keys out of his pocket, and turned to go. ‘Thanks again for the coffee.' He smothered a yawn as he walked out of the door and no doubt out of her life. Lily was gripped with something akin to sadness, biting down on her lip she fought the impulse to call him back, not realising that Hunter was battling with demons of his own.

He didn't want to go home.

Didn't want to ring Emma and tell her about his evening—didn't want a night rattling around his apartment on his own. But more than that, he didn't actually want to leave Lily.

And it wasn't just because she was gorgeous—beautiful women were ten a penny in his word. If it was just sex or company he wanted, he had plenty of willing participants—it was
this
gorgeous woman that enthralled him.

Drenched, miserable and exhausted, she'd still given him her time—and unlike so many others she expected nothing from him.

Nothing!

Jangling his key on his index finger, heading for his car and a music-fuelled ride home, something stilled him.

Something he couldn't define made him pause and turn around.

‘I really am fine to drive…' Very slowly, very deliberately he turned to face her. ‘I'd just rather not.'

Her eyes jerked to his and the lust blazing in them was so blatant there was no question of mixed messages, his meaning utterly, utterly clear. As Lily stared back, transfixed, she begged for reason to descend, for her usually ordered mind to focus, to give an appropriate response to his terribly inappropriate proposal.

She wanted to say yes!

One hand was leaning on the wall behind her as his other smoothed another imaginary lock from her forehead, tracing again the path he had blazed so easily before, infinitely kissable lips literally a breath away, the taste of him an imagined delicacy on her tongue, and lust battled with reason. Surely she'd regret this. To contemplate sleeping with this man was something every woman in his path surely did, but to actually fathom it, to
know
that for tonight at least all this could be hers, was a conundrum Lily had never in her life envisaged. He was as out of place in her bedroom as he had been at the community centre, a divine prototype that didn't belong in the parameters of her existence. Yet here he was, adoring her with his eyes, lifting the silver lid and tempting her with laden, flambéd plates of passion—the ultimate, most elicit dessert menu thrust in front of her to break her diet. She toyed mentally with the delicacies on offer, knew that a flavor of nectar would surely sour her tastebuds for ever, that to taste him now could only render any future offerings lacking.

But she wanted this.

Wanted to taste him, to feel him, wanted that moment on her lips to spend a lifetime in her memory…

The brush of his mouth on hers almost made her faint, her flesh swelling with ripeness as he graced her with his presence, a tiny shocked gasp as instead of a kiss, first he licked her, his tongue tracing the Cupid's bow of her lips, then bit her lower lip, and if it had been anyone else she'd have recoiled, but not with Hunter, it was the single most erotic thing she had ever experienced in her life—and it wasn't transitory, tasting her, circling her lips, till he
had
to stop, till he had to end this delicious torment with a kiss…only he didn't. Instead, he gently bit into her lower lip, sucking her till she was swollen, till her body was writhing with want, yet his hand was still leaning lazily on the wall behind her as he urged her body closer with sheer magnetism.

Then
he kissed her.

She'd
never
been kissed like this before. He tasted divine, his lips moving slowly against hers, almost lazily, but his indolent lips served a purpose—such a contrast to the hard skilful motion of his tongue, creating a frenzy in her body, his tongue cold against hers, until it was Lily pressing her lips harder on his, Lily wanting the full weight of the passion he had allowed her to glimpse.

And he reciprocated, in the tiniest but most erotic of ways, his hand moving to the small of her back. Long-fingered, warm-palmed, the weight of his hand didn't guide her forward, just radiated a heat that moved her closer to him. Pressed against him, she was lost. Lost in a the sensation of his sensual body, the lean, toned hardness of him, the heady smell of him, the luxurious feel of his hair beneath her fingers. All she wanted was for this kiss to last for ever, to feel as she did at this moment, while knowing it couldn't, their bodies just too aroused to linger in this ecstatic moment for long. And when Hunter broke the spell, moved his mouth away a fraction, Lily couldn't believe what she was contemplating but couldn't fathom saying no either.

‘We c-can't…' She stammered the words out, breathless, stunned. Still reeling from his kiss, she attempted reason.

‘Why not?'

‘Because…' Her mind flailed for a suitable response but how pathetic
any
excuse sounded when her body was screaming otherwise. ‘I'm not into one-night stands.'

‘Who said anything about one night? I like you, Lily—I think I could get to really like you.'

‘It's not that easy…' Her breath was coming out in small hard gasps. ‘I don't know a thing about you.'

‘There's plenty of time for that.' His hand was still on the small of her back, more firmly now, welding her to him, letting her feel his hardness, glimpse what could be hers—for tonight at least and tomorrow at best. Because, despite what he was saying, Lily knew she could never hold him, that for him the flare of attraction would be extinguished the second the real world invaded or his needs were met.

But?

Didn't she always say to go with one's instincts, to listen to that inner voice? And right now hers was screaming! Her instincts were all pointing in one direction only—this beautiful, beautiful man who was here and now, who was making her feel more of a woman than she had ever felt in her life, who was offering her a delectable sample of what she could never really own. And it was truly easier to go with the flow than reject him on principle. Up close and personal with Hunter was the most intoxicating experience in her life to date and one she wanted to savour for as long as the moment allowed.

‘Lily.' There was almost a pleading note in his deep sensual voice as his lips nuzzled into her neck. Her eyes closed in submission as he pressed his lips harder to her flickering pulse. ‘I don't want to sleep alone…'

He was peeling her jacket off—no invitation required, pulling her top over her head in one easy movement, expert fingers unhinging her bra. She felt the shift as her breasts fell plumply into his waiting hands, felt the swell of arousal as his fingers worked her nipples, his tongue hot now as he licked her areola in painful, ever-decreasing circles, teasing the swollen centre with a glimpse of his velvet caress but never quite taking it fully in till she begged.

Till she took his hair and guided him, till she placed his mouth where it was needed now, and even though she'd never been one for one-night stands, the ‘casual' in sex an enigma to her, she'd never been in the hands of a master before, never felt the rush of blood to her most private places, beaten only by the heavy pad of his finger. His mouth worked on, suckling her till surely she would come in his mouth.

Without even asking direction, he kissed her into the bedroom, mouth, hands everywhere as he slid her along the hallway wall, discarding her clothes
en route.
He switched on the light, for which she was pathetically grateful, because if there was ever a body to see naked it was his.

He
undressed
himself. He
dealt with every practicality, stood over her as she lay shivering with want on the bed as he disrobed. And it was the most erotic thing she had ever seen—the slow teasing opening of a decadent parcel, more blissful with each revelation, her nails digging into her palms as he unbuttoned his shirt. No torturous waxing for Hunter, the smattering of black hair fanning his broad chest, circling his dark nipples, making her stomach curl inside. Wide-eyed, drunk on arousal, she watched with almost fascinated terror as he slid down the zipper on his suit pants. Biting down hard on her bottom lip, she shivered out a greedy moan at the stunning delicacy on offer. Slender-hipped, with a toned flat stomach, his flesh was generous in
only
the right place, his black pubic hair silken and unusually straight, as if warning Lily of the rarity of the treasure she was viewing. And as he knelt on the bed beside her, it was impossible not to reach out, impossible not to touch him.

‘Careful,' Hunter warned, but she was way beyond that, caution long since blown to the wind, feeling the soft velvet skin beneath her fingers, the potent hardness alive in her hands as his mouth drank from hers, drowning as he pushed her down further, as with practised ease he slid on a condom and parted her knees with his thighs.