One warm hand moved from her shoulder to caress her cheek. “Why? Because it would involve opening your heart and trusting a man?”
His touch was like being kissed by an angel. As hard as she tried to hold on to that wall, Travis kept creeping inside.
“What’s it to you?” she asked, trying to direct the conversation to someone other than herself.
In a voice filled with quiet thoughtfulness, he replied, “Maybe I want to be that man.”
His words filled her ears as if they were spoken in her dreams. She couldn’t imagine any man wanting more from her than sex, and as much as she tried to discount his intentions, every part of her soul told her Travis Gage was different from all the others.
But could she trust her soul?
“Why would you want someone like me when you can have practically any woman in Chicago?”
He paused, tilting his head in a seriously cute way. “Yeah, I could hook up with one of the thousands of women in this city, but honestly, I haven’t been interested in anyone since Jess died.”
Until now.
He didn’t say the words, but she heard them, loud and clear.
And then she couldn’t hear anything except for the thud of her pulse in her ears, because Travis leaned down and kissed her. Unlike their last kiss, this one was anything but gentle. His mouth latched on hers, his tongue thrusting in her mouth quickly, as if he wanted to make the extent of his need clearly known. And boy, did she feel that need. Felt it right down to her toes, as his tongue devoured her mouth and his groin rubbed urgently against hers. He was hard, the thick bulge of his erection pressing into her belly and eliciting a thrilling wave of desire inside her.
Before she could stop herself, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back with fervor. She swirled her tongue over his, while her heart pounded against her ribs and moisture pooled between her legs. Oh God. Why was she doing this? Why did she want this man so badly when her entire life she’d avoided this kind of contact?
Without thinking, she pulled back slightly, hearing herself say, “Come inside.”
His chuckle tickled her swollen lips. “No.”
Her eyes blinked in confusion. “What?”
He took a step back. “Rachel, as much as I want you right now, I want more than your body.”
“What do you want from me then?” She met his gaze, questioning, searching, suddenly knowing she should have asked him this before she’d ever thought to invite him inside.
She watched as he drew his brows together in a frown. He appeared as baffled as she felt, as if he too had never stopped to think about what was happening between them. He swallowed visibly then said, “More than a roll in the hay. You need to believe that.”
“I do,” she said, inwardly flinching at the desperation she heard in her voice.
“Maybe, but I’d rather wait and prove it to you.”
He pressed a hard kiss against her cheek and slid a hand in his pocket. With his other, he led her to the front entrance of her building. “I’m trying to get a listing of staff who worked at Chicago General when Carrie volunteered there.”
For a moment, she stood, confused as to what he was talking about, then the kiss slowly drained from her thoughts. Her sister. The investigation. How on earth did he do that, go from sensual to professional like the flip of a light switch?
“It’s not an official case, so I’m trying to get one without a warrant, or at least find someone who will talk to us. I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know what I find out.”
She blinked, trying to clear the fog from her mind. “Okay,” she heard herself say.
He bent and kissed her again, lightly, briefly.
“Tomorrow,” he said.
She punched in the code on the keypad, allowing Travis to open the door. After she stepped inside the lobby, she turned. “Tomorrow.”
“So, what’s up?” Suzanna hovered over Rachel as she attempted to sketch some new designs.
“Nothing’s up,” she replied absently, dragging her pencil over the paper.
“Oh, really?” Suzanna pulled the sketches from Rachel’s drafting table. “Since when do you design lingerie like this?” She held up a sketch of a sheer lace bustier.
“I’m just…expanding my market,” Rachel defended, snatching the sketch from her hand. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks. She wasn’t typically modest about her new designs, but Suzanna had never turned them personal, until today.
“Come on. And you’ve been whistling all morning. I didn’t even know you knew how to whistle.”
The burning continued to torment Rachel’s cheeks, and now she was growing embarrassed at her own embarrassment. “I’m just in a good mood. Can’t I be in a good mood?”