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to the floor then and there. The response worried him since he’d never been this desperate to touch one particular woman. Ever. “Do you always wear sexy underwear?”

“No.” Her throat moved as she swallowed. “I usually wear white cotton. A while back, though, I saw this set in a store window, and I bought it on impulse. But I’ve never worn it.”

Until now. The unspoken words hung between them. Frightening in their implication. She was the innocent he’d suspected in so many ways, but with a streak of hidden passion she’d never let out. He felt suddenly torn between the desire to seal her in a glass case to protect her from all the world’s vices, and a potent urge to help her explore every naughty thought she’d ever entertained in the privacy of her mind.

“Are you ready to order?” the waiter asked, making them both start.

Scott glanced at Allison.

She stared at him, her gray eyes dark, her lips slightly parted. “To be honest,” she said at last, “I’m not very hungry.”

“Neither am I.” He pulled his attention away from her long enough to ask for the check, and for the wine to be recorked so they could take it to their room.

Chapter 7

What have I gotten myself into? Scott wondered as they rode up in the old elevator. Every bachelor survival instinct he had was screaming for him to run like hell. The woman who stood quietly beside him watching the numbers change was far more complex than he’d bargained for, and his fascination for her had grown all out of proportion to what he was used to handling.

The elevator came to a jarring halt and the doors slid open to reveal the ornate hall with Art Deco chandeliers. Allison glanced up at him, her smile timid. Shifting the bottle of wine to his other arm, he took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Everything will be fine, he told himself as they started down the hall. You’ve spelled out the rules. She’s agreed. Nothing to worry about.

Except he’d never been this nervous about making love to a woman. Or this aroused so early in the game. Just holding her hand made his pulse jump. Once he’d matured past the selfishness of adolescence, he’d learned to take pride in pleasing his partners. But what if he was so rusty he’d forgotten how?

He brushed that possibility aside as ridiculous. No one “forgot” how to pleasure a woman.

As for the fact that she intrigued him more than any other woman he’d ever met, it didn’t have to mean anything. They were two mature, consenting adults about to share a little mutual gratification. Period.

When they reached the suite, he dropped her hand to unlock the door with the card key. “I hate these things,” he muttered when he couldn’t get it to work.

“Here, let me.” She took the card from him and got the green light to flash on the first try. He turned the handle and opened the door for her.

Allison’s knees shook as she walked to the center of the sitting area, clutching her purse. Soft light from the courtyard came through the sheer curtains, giving the room a peach-colored glow. Behind her, she heard the jangle of loose change and keys hitting a hard surface. She turned and found Scott standing by a marble-top table near the door, emptying his pockets. It was such a simple male ritual that suddenly seemed very intimate—the sort of thing a wife would watch her husband do at the end of each day.

He set the bottle of wine on the same table, then looked at her. He appeared more shadow than reality, with his dark beard and hair, the darkness of his clothing. But his eyes captured the light in a way that made them gleam. Wolf’s eyes, she thought with a shiver.

“Would you like some wine?” he asked.

“No,” she said, barely above a whisper. She wanted him to kiss her and end the wondering and the waiting.

He came toward her and her body began to tremble. When he reached her, he pried the purse from her hands and dropped it to the coffee table. The height and breadth of him dwarfed her as she tipped her head back to meet his gaze.

He raised his hands and cupped her face. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

She closed her eyes as his mouth descended, the contact so soft it was hardly a kiss at all. He held her there, his warm palms cradling her face as his lips brushed and retreated, then brushed again.

A tingling heat spread downward from his hands, relaxing her chest, then her stomach, as hunger unfurled. He deepened the kiss while his hands held her still for the onslaught of need he poured into her. She rose on her toes and pressed her body to his, gripping his shoulders as a demand for more.

He kissed her cheeks, then spoke against her temple. “I take it you’re excited too?”

She nodded, her throat too tight for her to speak.

“Say it,” he coaxed. Raining kisses over her face. “I love the sound of your voice. Tell me you want this.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, she summoned the courage to voice her desire, but a quiet “yes” was all she could manage.

“Louder.” He brushed his lips over hers.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I want you.”

He rewarded her with a hard, searing kiss as his hands traveled down her back to cup her bottom. He pulled her against him, letting her feel the strength of his erection. With a whimper, she rubbed against him as excitement rolled through her.

“Oh yes,” he breathed in approval. “Talk to me. Tell me what you like, what pleases you. If all we have is this one night, I want to make the most of it, for both of us.”

“I... can’t.” Embarrassment made her pull away. “I’m too nervous.”

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. “If it makes you feel better, I’m

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