“Sorry. I’m just curious. Insanely curious.”
Sneaky bastard. She flushed. “So much for not being nosy. That concludes this evening’s conversation.”
“We’ll be all right,” he said. “Like you said before. We can just, ah, not talk.”
Here it was. Her cue to do something sexy and uninhibited. But she felt so freaking self-conscious.
Noah caressed her arm soothingly, as if she’d spoken her thoughts aloud. “Don’t be nervous,” he said gently. “We both know it’ll be great.”
If only she could be so confident.
“All we have to do is get to where we were in my office. I suggest we start with a kiss. Unless you have a better idea.” He put down his wine glass and reached out.
She shivered as he brushed her cheek with the back of his knuckles. The gesture was tender, respectful, but it went too far somehow. She couldn’t handle tenderness, or any real intimacy. She was too raw. She’d set the limits in advance: she wanted nothing but the physical act of sex.
She would content herself with that. They both had to.
Really, it wasn’t like she had anything to complain about. She’d maneuvered herself into the luxury lair of a super-hot guy whose plan was to make her come all night long. The only hitch was that he was disappointed because he couldn’t take her to a fancy restaurant, where he wanted to wine her and dine her and ask her about herself where anyone could overhear. Awww, tough. Poor her.
He took her hand, enveloping it in his. “You don’t have to be afraid.”
“Oh, I’m not,” she said quickly. “Really I’m not.”
“We’ll take our time,” he assured her. “There’s no rush. And I’ll be very gentle.”
“You don’t have to . . .”
Too late. He lifted her hand to his lips and started kissing it. Hot, intense, deliberate kisses.
The experience was new to her. His whole playbook was new. He kissed the inside of her wrist. A swift, hot shimmer flowed right up her arm.
“I . . .” She stopped, swallowed, tried again. “Shall we—”
“Get on with it? Let me have a look at you.” He pulled a case out of his pocket, opened it, and removed the dark contact lenses, stowing them. Then he turned his jewel-clear golden eyes squarely upon her.
His gaze triggered an almost unbearable feeling of exposure. She wanted to hide. Sheer stubborn pride kept her chin up.
“You’re better,” he said thoughtfully. “But not one hundred percent better.”
“One hundred percent is not going to happen,” she said wryly. “Unless you wait for a very long time.”
He nodded, having come to some inscrutable decision. “Come with me, then. If you think you’re ready.”
She followed him through vaulted spaces full of shadows. Outside, the wind whipped the dark lakewater to rippling whitecaps. He led her into a big bedroom, decorated with the same masculine elegance as the rest of the house. Wood paneled walls, hardwood floor, a vast bed, floor to ceiling windows with vertical blinds made of paler wood.
He let her go in first, then stopped just inside the door. “Lights on or off?”
She shrugged.
“My call, then.” He hit a switch. A pair of immense floor lamps began to glow softly.
Caro wished that she’d opted for darkness. She was paralyzed with shyness.
“You wanted me to take the lead,” he said. “Now you have to trust me to take you where you need to go.”
She wrapped her arms around herself without answering.
“Do you?”
She finally nodded.
He sat down at the foot of his enormous bed, flanked by the lamps. “Take off your clothes for me.”
She was flustered, and perplexed. “While you sit there and watch?”
“Exactly.”
“Why?” she demanded.
His face was too shadowed to read. “To turn you on,” he said.
“Oh! So this is all for my benefit?” she flung at him.
“And mine. But I’m not the variable in this equation. You are.”
“Not really,” she said. “Don’t forget that I’ve already danced for you. Twice. And I wasn’t wearing much.”
“I remember,” he said. “It turned you on then, too. Both times.”
His unwavering stare had her pinned to the spot. “What makes you think so?”
“I don’t think that it did,” he said. “I know that it did.”
His self-assurance was infuriating. All the more so because it was true. Caro slashed back with a sarcastic question. “I see. Then does my lord command me, his lowly bed slave, to do his bidding?”
“Hot fantasy. Keep talking.”
“When I’m ready,” she said.
“I want to please you so badly. Please.” His low voice was charged with intensity. “Trust me.”