Snowbound Cinderella (9 page)

“But we—hardly know each other.” She held herself perfectly still, afraid to move. Afraid that if she even breathed too deeply she would shatter like fragile glass. The feelings pulsing through her were too overpowering. The need too great. She was surprised, and more than a little frightened, by what she was feeling. “This is—” she struggled for breath “—too fast, too sudden. I…can’t think.”

“Yeah. Thinking’s a problem.” He combed his fingers through her hair and drew her head back. “It’s time we both quit thinking and just allowed ourselves to feel.”

“That won’t solve anything.” Her voice was a little too tight.

“Maybe not. But it’ll go a hell of a long way toward sweeping away all this tension between us. And besides, it’ll make us feel so good.”

“Tension is…normal when you’re feeling—” she swallowed “—what we’re feeling.”

His eyes narrowed on her. “What are you feeling, Hollywood?”

She backed away, her hands fisting at her sides. “You know exactly what I’m feeling. And you’re the reason why.”

“You mean…” His grin came, quick, dangerous, sending her heart on a fast, bumpy ride. “You’re seriously tempted? Are you saying you want me?”

It was on the tip of her tongue to deny it. But she knew he could see through her lie. “You know I do.”

His heart started racing. “Well, that makes it a little easier. We both want the same thing. So, what are we going to do about it?”

“Nothing.” She backed up another step, until she felt the wall behind her. “You said yourself you don’t believe in casual sex.”

“There’s nothing casual about what I’m feeling.” He moved closer, his eyes gleaming in the glow of the fire. “You know something, Hollywood? I’ve always known exactly who I was and what I wanted. And when I wanted something, I always went after it with absolute focus. But this time…”

She tensed, aware that he wanted to kiss her again. But he held back.

He kept his hands at his sides. “Ever since I came up against you, I seem to have lost all my bearings.”

“You’re not the only one.” She made a sound that could have been a laugh or a sob. It stuck in her throat, threatening to choke her.

“So.” He kept his eyes level on hers. “What are we going to do about this? The choice is yours.”

For a moment she said nothing. She stared into his eyes. Her throat felt parched. She ran her tongue over her lips before she managed to whisper, “It would help if you’d touch me, Jace. I need you to touch me.”

He was afraid to touch her. Afraid that if he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop. The need was too great. And the feelings pulsing through him right now would probably turn him into some kind of savage.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Unless, of course, you want the same thing I want.”

She brought her hands to his wrists. She could feel the tension humming through him. Could feel the strength of will as he held on to his control by a mere thread. But even as she ordered herself to get a grip on her emotions, something seemed to take over. Something stronger than common sense. The mere touch of him had her sliding her hands along his arms, feeling the muscles bunch and tighten under her fingers. It was exciting to feel the keen edge of tension throbbing through him, and to know that she was the cause.

She couldn’t seem to stop herself now. She lifted her hands higher, to his shoulders, then slowly encircled his neck. Despite her fears, she had an overpowering need to kiss him again. She couldn’t bear to wait another moment to taste him. She had to stand on tiptoe to reach his mouth. She heard his quick intake of breath in the moment that their lips touched.

It was the merest whisper of mouth to mouth. A
soft little butterfly kiss. But the feelings that pulsed through him shattered all his defenses.

His voice was rough with frustration. His eyes narrowed. He lifted his hands again to frame her face. “If you keep this up, Hollywood, I’m going to lose all control.”

“Really? That might be…interesting. I think I’d like to see the very cool, very contained Jace Lockhart step out of character.”

“You know what they say. Be careful what you wish for.” His head was spinning. The whisper of her breath against his mouth was as fresh, as clean, as a mountain spring. She smelled of soap and water, and just the merest hint of some half-forgotten fragrance from his childhood. She had him tied up in knots. And all he could think about was tasting her. All of her. Here and now.

“I remember how you looked that first night.” The image of her flashed through his mind. Wild-eyed with fear, but ready to stand her ground. “If I take you, I’ll want you like that. Frightened and bold. Advancing and retreating. Demanding and surrendering. And naked. With even those bits of silk and lace gone, so I can touch and taste and feast to my heart’s content.”

The thought of all the things he wanted to do with her, to her, had the blood pounding in his temples. He pulled her head back sharply, his fierce eyes steady on hers. “So, do you still want to see me out of control?”

If he expected to read shock or censure in her eyes,
he was mistaken. What he saw was pure sensuality, mingled with a hint of doubt.

But all she said was, “I might be mildly interested.”

“Not good enough, Hollywood. I need your full involvement in this, or I step away.”

Though she said nothing, the look in her eyes was too much of a challenge. Besides, his blood was already hot, pumping through his veins with such intensity that he could hear it roaring. Still, he had to give it one more try. For both their sakes.

“It’s your call, Hollywood. And if you’re smart, you’ll run to your room now, and lock the door.”

She swallowed, and the sound seemed overloud in her ears. “What if I don’t?”

“At least have enough sense to be afraid.”

“Are you, Jace?”

“Scared to death.” But he knew if she tried to keep him away now, he’d tear her door from its hinges to have her. His head was already lowering until his mouth was fully on hers. The flash of fire caught him by surprise. And then he could feel the need twisting, turning, churning inside.

Against her mouth he muttered, “You should have run when you had the chance, Hollywood. Now it’s too late.”

“It was too late the minute I walked into this room tonight.”

“Yeah.” He pressed his mouth to hers, lingering over her lips until he heard her moan with pleasure. “You got that right.”

He was through fighting it. He would have her. All of her. He would taste her until he’d had his fill. And touch her everywhere. And if, in the morning, there were regrets, he’d deal with them then. For tonight, he would have everything he’d ever wanted. And in return give her all that he was capable of giving.

H
is hands moved over her, and she felt her desire rise as he cupped her hips and dragged her roughly against him. And still he lingered over the kiss. With lips and teeth and tongue, he took her on a wild ride. One minute she was holding on tightly, afraid of falling. The next she felt herself stepping over the edge of a mountain, falling, falling, then suddenly soaring.

While he explored the wonders of her mouth, she drank him in. He tasted dark and mysterious. The tang of cool wine and the sharp bite of tobacco. She sighed. A man of so many moods and even more secrets. And she was determined to learn all of them. Who he was. And what he was. But for now…

All she could do was hold on.

Annoyed with the barriers between them he tugged the heavy sweatshirt over her head, only to discover a chemise of silk and lace beneath. The contrast surprised and aroused him. In the firelight her skin was pale and smooth, like the underside of a rose petal. He was fascinated by the long, sleek column of her neck. He ran his tongue down the length of it, before pressing his mouth to the sensitive hollow of her throat.

She made a sound like that of a purring kitten and
arched her neck, giving him easier access. He remained there, pressing light, feathery kisses along her throat, across her shoulder, over her collarbone. But when he brought his mouth lower, to close over one erect nipple, she felt her knees buckle.

The only thing that kept her from dropping to the floor was his hands, pinning her against the wall. Hands that moved over her body with all the skill of a musician, playing her as though she were his instrument.

In the firelight she looked to him like a goddess. All golden hair and honey skin. Her eyes a little too wide. Fear, he thought, and that knowledge made him bolder. He dipped one hand beneath the waistband of her leggings and tugged until they joined her sweatshirt in a heap at their feet. Then he found her, hot and moist.

Stunned, she could only clutch at him as, without warning, he drove her to the first glorious peak. She had no time to recover as his mouth moved over her body, making her hum with needs she’d never even known she possessed.

Trembling, she reached a hand up to unbutton his shirt, sliding the fabric over his shoulders so she could touch him as he was touching her. She felt a ripple of excitement as her fingers traced the taut muscles of his chest, then moved lower, across the flat planes of his stomach, until she reached the snaps and zipper at his waist. With one quick tug he stepped out of his jeans and briefs.

“Jace.” She struggled to see him through the haze
of passion that clouded her vision. But all she could see were his eyes, dark and dangerous, stripping her soul bare, just as his hands had stripped her body.

“This is just the beginning, Hollywood. You wanted to see me out of control.” He gathered her against him and dropped to his knees, dragging her down with him. “Before this night is over, I’m going to take you where you’ve never been.”

The darkness, the danger, excited her. She touched a hand to the scar on his cheek, then pressed her lips to the spot. “I don’t care, Jace. As long as you go there with me.”

They came together in a kiss that spoke of hunger, of need, of blinding, desperate passion. The world beyond this cabin no longer mattered. The wind blew, tossing a spray of snow against the walls, causing sparks to leap and dance in the fireplace. The fire burned low, leaving the cabin chilled. The candles on the mantel sputtered, and threatened to go out with each gust of wind. But the heat between them grew, until their breathing was labored and their bodies were slick with sweat.

No one had ever touched her like this. With lips and tongue and fingertips. One moment, so gently that she wanted to weep. The next, creating a frantic rush of almost desperate need that had her pulse speeding up, her breath racing from between parted lips. Taking her higher. Faster. And farther. Until she lay steeped in pleasure.

She didn’t think it possible to be any more satisfied than he’d already made her. But she was wrong.

His movements slowed. He brought his mouth to the silk and lace of her chemise, running his tongue over the edge of her breast, around the peak, until she thought she’d go mad from wanting. He moved the fabric slowly upward, his thumbs tormenting her as he freed her breasts from that final thin barrier. But in his haste to find her skin, he couldn’t strip it away fast enough, and he ripped it from her. The sound of the shredding silk broke through the stillness.

At the unexpected sound she cried out, “Jace, wait!”

“Too late. I have to touch you. Taste you. Now.”

They lay on the floor, with only their clothes beneath them for a cushion. There was a sofa just a few feet away, and a bedroom just beyond that. But they might as well have been a million miles away. Neither of them could stop—even for a moment—the swirl of passion that held them in its thrall.

Jace thought of all his fantasies since he’d first seen Ciara Wilde on-screen. But none of them could compare with this flesh-and-blood woman. She lay in his arms, weak with pleasure, drugged with passion. Moonlight spilled through the window, turning her hair to flame, her eyes to the color of a storm-tossed ocean. It mirrored the storm raging within him. He could do with her as he pleased. Her sighs of ecstasy were because of him. She shuddered from his touch. The name she cried out was his. That knowledge fueled his passion.

The thought of taking her, hard and fast, made him tremble. He was desperate for release. But he wanted
more. There was so much more he had to give. So much more he wanted to take.

He teased her breasts, until she moaned and writhed beneath him. He lifted his head, his eyes deep and unfathomable as they studied her. He watched her lovely expressive face in the flickering firelight. Saw the way her lips parted, her mouth forming his name, though no words came out. Her arms lifted weakly to encircle his neck, and she dragged his head down for one long, lingering kiss.

He knew if he waited much longer he’d go mad. And still he held back, wanting to see her eyes glaze with desire. Wanting to drive them both to the very edge, and beyond. And he did. With lips and tongue and fingertips he brought her to an even higher peak.

She was wonderful to watch. Her eyes were huge, fixed on him, as she gave herself up completely.

She was his, he realized. Only his.

And then he knew he could hold back no longer.

When at last he entered her, she let out a cry. She had thought she had no more to give. But now, half crazed with desire, she wrapped herself around him, needing to hold him to her, needing to move with him, needing to match her strength with his.

He hadn’t expected this. This firestorm of passion as they came together. “Look at me, Ciara.” His voice was hoarse.

Her eyes widened, and she struggled to focus on him through a burning mist of passion. “Jace.” His name was torn from her lips. She shuddered.

And then they knew only this incredible strength.
Their breathing was labored as they moved together, strong and sure, and climbed higher and higher. They were beyond words now. Beyond thought. Beyond anything of this world, as they felt themselves shattering, splintering into tiny fragments and soaring among the stars.

“That was—” Jace paused for breath, amazed at how difficult it was to find his voice “—incredible.”

They lay, still joined, their bodies slick.

“Umm.” Ciara couldn’t manage more than that. She felt as if she’d survived a storm. And in a way, she had. One unlike any she’d ever experienced. She felt bruised and battered. Dazed and disheveled. And completely, utterly satisfied.

Jace raised himself on his elbows and gazed down at her, loving the way she looked, hair damp and tangled, lips still swollen from his kisses. “Am I too heavy for you?”

She opened her mouth, then decided it was too much effort to speak, and merely shook her head.

“Good. I’m not sure I could find the energy to move.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so disoriented. Had the earth actually moved? Before tonight he would have scoffed at such a thought. Now…

He traced the outline of her lower lip. “You’re an amazing woman, Hollywood.”

She lifted a hand to brush the hair from his forehead. “You didn’t call me that a few minutes ago.”

“I didn’t?” He frowned, trying to remember. He
felt as if he’d survived an earthquake—the ground had definitely shuddered. “What did I call you?”

“Ciara. It was the first time you’ve ever spoken my name.”

“Ciara.” He whispered it like a prayer. And realized why for so long he hadn’t been able to say it. “It’s almost too beautiful. Like you.”

She smiled. “You think I’m beautiful?”

“Come on. Don’t act so surprised. You have to know what you look like.” When she shook her head, he persisted. “What do you see when you look in a mirror?”

“I see that plain little girl from Kentucky who had few friends and was always wearing hand-me-down clothes.”

She tugged at his heart, in a way she’d never understand, and he could never explain.

He lowered his face and brushed his mouth over hers. Against her lips he murmured, “Then let me tell you what I see.” He rolled to one side, and gathered her into his arms as tenderly as if she were that sad little girl she’d described. He cradled her against his chest and stroked, soothed. Pressing his lips to her eyelids, he said, “I see eyes that, when they’re glowing with happiness, could melt glaciers.” His voice warmed with unspoken laughter. “And when they’re iced with fury could freeze the sun.”

“Ah. The old evil eye. It’s a look I’ve perfected over the years. I’m glad you’ve noticed.”

“You bet I have.” He dropped a quick kiss on the tip of her nose. “I see a nose that’s cute as a button,
but can be lifted higher in the air than a proper Boston matron when someone crosses swords with you.”

“I don’t lift my—”

“Not yet, Hollywood. It’s not your turn to talk.” He brushed a light kiss over her lips. “I see a mouth that’s full and generous. Really quite kissable. And quick to curve with laughter. It can also turn into the most delightful pout. But, when fighting tears, it trembles ever so slightly.”

“My lips don’t—”

He kissed her into silence. “They tremble. And it breaks my heart.” He ran a finger over her chin. “You have a jaw that juts like a boxer’s when you’re ready to fight. Which isn’t often, thank heavens.”

He lifted her hand to his mouth, taking the time to kiss each finger, then pressed his lips to her palm. “I see hands that aren’t afraid to get dirty for the sake of hard work. Especially if that hard work means an easier life for the people who depend on you. Your mother and brothers are very fortunate to have someone like you looking out for them.”

“Oh, Jace.” The gesture was so unexpectedly tender, it had her catching her breath on a sigh. She pressed her forehead to his and took a moment to compose her thoughts. Then she wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself firmly against the length of him. “How do you know me so well?”

“I’ve spent a lot of time watching you, Hollywood. Which is a pretty pleasant task, considering how easy you are to look at.”

“I just don’t think anybody’s ever seen through my
defenses before. Or ever seen me in quite the way you do.”

“Good. I don’t think I want anyone else seeing you like this. Because where you’re concerned, I think I could become a very jealous lover.”

“Lover. Umm. I like that word.”

“Yeah. I kind of like it myself.” He ran a hand possessively along her spine, amazed that he was fully aroused once more. How could it be possible to want her again so soon? He had thought that once they got the tension out of the way, things could become more relaxed between them. But if anything, he wanted her more. Once would never be enough where Ciara was concerned, he realized. She was the kind of woman a man would want again and again. She could become a habit. An addiction.

“I’d like to think I’m seeing you in a way nobody else ever has or ever will.”

She could feel his physical response and was thrilled and a little awed by it. Drunk with power, she ran slow, lazy kisses along his throat, then lower, across his chest and stomach, then lower still, until she heard his moan of pleasure.

She gave a little laugh of delight. “Maybe it’s time to reveal a few more of my deep, dark secrets.”

“Careful, Hollywood. You show me too much too soon, I may go into cardiac arrest. Didn’t your mother ever tell you it wasn’t nice to tease a man like this?”

“Tease? Oh, I intend to do a whole lot more than tease.”

“Stop. I can’t take much more.”

But she wasn’t listening. She was already busy driving them both far beyond madness.

“Hungry?” Jace drew a cover over both of them to ward off the chill. Sometime during the night he had carried her to the sofa, where they lay in a tangle of arms and legs and twisted blankets. Though it was barely wide enough for one, they managed to snuggle together, perfectly content with the arrangement.

“What do you have in mind?”

He shrugged lazily and lifted a lock of hair from her eyes. “I don’t know.” He allowed the strands to sift through his fingers, thinking how soft they felt. Softer than silk. In fact, everything about her was soft. And warm. And exotic. “But I noticed that you hardly ate any of your dinner.”

“I think I was too troubled to eat.”

“What was troubling you?”

She laughed. “I don’t remember. The minute you kissed me, I forgot everything. Including my name.”

He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “You’ve just described what happened to me. I was really worried about my reaction. Now I’m glad to know I’m not alone in this senility.”

He glanced idly toward the hot coals that gleamed in the fireplace. “I was going to surprise you with a special dessert. But now it’s ruined.”

“You were?” She snuggled closer, absorbing his warmth. “What was it?”

“Baked apples. Now they’re a couple of blackened cinders.”

“Sorry to spoil your surprise. How about some coffee? Is there any left?”

He shook his head. “It all boiled away. I could make a fresh pot.”