“No. And I don’t mind at all.”
He stepped past her, gave the parlor a quick glance, then stepped into the first bedroom, and then the second. He checked in closets, under the bed, and all around. He went through the kitchen, and the family room, and moved on to the French doors. They were locked. The drapes across the windows were drawn. Everything appeared to be just fine.
She was behind him, barefoot, rich dark hair with its glimmers of red and gold sweeping sleekly over her shoulders. Her eyes were expectant and focused on him.
“Looks like you’re safe and sound,” he said.
“I know it’s ridiculous to feel worried. I’ve lived here so long, and I’ve never been uneasy about anything before,” she told him.
“I didn’t think you frightened easily. You stayed out at a lonely plantation with just an elderly dying woman, and you never ran, no matter what she thought she saw.”
“I thought I was still sane myself then,” she said softly.
He found himself walking across the room to her. He really meant just to give her comfort, even though he wasn’t sure it was comfort she wanted.
He lifted her chin, the pad of his thumb moving gently across her cheek. “Hey, I’m sure you’re sane.”
She stared into his eyes. “I thought you just admitted that you think I’m crazy.”
He shrugged. “Crazy beautiful.”
He never meant to kiss her. He meant to keep a careful distance.
But he was there, and she was there, and suddenly kissing her was something he had to do or go completely mad. His lips met hers, and his free hand cupped her nape. It wasn’t a comforting peck; it was a kiss that quickly intensified. She tasted of the sweet fruit nectar she’d been drinking, and her lips seemed to mold to his naturally, without thought. Her lips parted easily, and it quickly escalated into one of those deep, arousing kisses that sent lightning-swift desire down to his groin and through his limbs. A voice in his head shouted it was time to pull back, time to apologize, but his hand started moving through her hair and down her back. He drew her flush against him, and the intense flashes the kiss had ignited grew into a sweeping inferno of desire.
Crazy. This was crazy.
He felt her hands on him, on his shoulders, then streaking down his back, clutching his hips. When he drew his lips from hers and looked into her eyes, he was still expecting indignation, a protest, anger.
But her eyes were on his with an expression of glazed confusion, and she quickly told him, “I didn’t…I didn’t ask you to look through the house to…to…”
“I never thought you did,” he assured her.
Then he kissed her again, and she kissed him back. Passionately, her tongue entering his mouth with sweet provocation, her body pressing against his again as if of its own accord, fitting against him as if she had been created only for that purpose. As their mouths connected with hot, wet urgency, he found his hand moving, covering her breast, and she pressed even more tightly against him. Something moved against his leg suddenly, and he jumped. She broke away from him, gasping.
“Jezebel!” she cried.
They both looked down, and the cat looked back and meowed. Then they looked at one another again, smiled and burst into laughter.
She was tousled and beautiful, and she whispered, “I’m still not sure I like you.”
“Fair enough. Do you want me to go?”
She shook her head. “No.”
So he went to her again and kissed her, gently this time. With her face cupped in his hands, he asked softly, “You’re sure?”
She nodded. And when he kissed her next, they both went for each other’s clothes. They shed their clothing across the hallway floor as she drew him backwards to her bedroom, where they fell naked onto the bed.
Somewhere, from a distant bar, the sound of music was carried to their ears. A drumbeat seemed to throb through ground and space. The room was lit only by the glow of the hall light, but even that was enough to catch the brilliance of her eyes and the luster of her hair, the satin of her flesh. He kissed her lips again and caught her eyes, then slowly pressed his mouth to her throat, between her breasts and upon each nipple. Her nails raked lightly down his back, teased his buttocks. He felt his erection hardening painfully, felt the mindlessness of need sweeping over him.
But he knew her name. Knew her.
It didn’t matter.