The Housekeeper's Daughter. Christine Flynn
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She felt impossibly soft, smelled incredible and when he drew back far enough to see the corner of her lush, unadorned mouth, his heart seemed to be beating a little faster than it had just a moment ago.
He hadn’t counted on that. Or on the way her stillness invited him to stay right where he was. He was close enough to feel her breath tremble out against his cheek, close enough to see her lips part as she slowly drew in more air.
Drawn by her softness, he slipped his fingers from her chin, tracing the delicate line of her jaw. The feathery crescents of her lashes drifted down. The delicate cords of her neck convulsed as she swallowed.
She wanted his touch.
Something inside him tightened at the thought, snaring him, pulling him back down when he should have been pulling away. He touched his mouth to hers, a soft brush of contact that made his heart bump against his ribs.
He did it again, and felt her pulse race where his fingers rested against the silken skin of her neck. Sliding one arm around her, he eased her forward until her body touched his.
“Kiss me back,” he whispered, and felt something molten and liquid pour through his veins when she sighed—and did.
Gabe hadn’t quite known what he would do when he’d climbed the stairs to the balcony and entered the room. It wasn’t like him to start anything without a game plan. He was the guy who never went into any meeting without a plan and backup and maybe a couple more contingencies for good measure. He liked to have all of his bases covered and to know as much about the other side as his own so he wouldn’t be caught unprepared.
He definitely hadn’t been prepared this time.
When he’d walked in, all he’d known for certain was that nothing had felt the same since he’d learned of her engagement, that he was sorry he’d acted like a jerk and that he couldn’t leave in the morning without telling her he wished her well. They had known each other too long to let his knee-jerk reaction cloud their relationship.
He also knew that he had not planned on kissing her.
He most definitely hadn’t planned on the impact of having her small, supple body in his arms.
She tasted like warm honey and felt like pure heaven. Slipping his hand up her side, he curved it just beneath the gentle fullness of her breasts. He wanted to feel more of her. All of her. He pulled her closer, lifted her higher against him, drank more deeply. Their breaths joined, her flavor mingled with his.
He edged his hand up, cupped the side of her small breast. She would fit his palm perfectly. He was sure of it. And would have caved in to the temptation to find out for sure if he hadn’t just felt her stiffen.
The sudden stillness in her body had him going still himself. She was no more prepared for the slow meltdown of their senses than he had been. He was as certain of that as he was of the clawing heat low in his belly. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d kissed a woman and felt such immediate need. More important at the moment, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d kissed a woman and promptly kissed good sense goodbye.
With a ragged breath he slowly lifted his head.
Addie’s grip tightened on his biceps, her fingers clutching the finely woven fabric of his jacket as she slowly lowered her head. She couldn’t let go of him. Not yet. He had taken the strength from her legs. Or maybe, she thought, she had simply given it to him. There had been no demand. No insistence. Just a slow, sweet heat that had filled her, consumed her and left her burning everywhere he’d touched.
Her breathing was no steadier than his when she finally eased away, willing her knees to support her when her fingers slipped from his arms. Clasping her hands over her fluttering stomach, she felt the little diamond bite into her palm.
Gabe caught the flash of the stone the instant before it disappeared.
Guilt promptly slammed into desire. “I’m sorry,” he said for what felt like the umpteenth time that night. “That was a mistake.”
He shouldn’t have kissed her. He should have let her go with the safe, chaste little buzz on the cheek he’d started with and left well enough alone. He had managed to explain his behavior before. He had no idea how to do it now.
Hating how distressed she looked, he reached toward her, only to drop his hand in case she pulled away. “Are you all right?”
“You should go,” she said, her voice a thready whisper. “People will be wondering where you are.”
“You haven’t answered me.”
“I’m…I don’t know what I am,” she confessed, clearly rattled. “You really need to leave, Gabe. You’re supposed to give a toast.”
“The toast can wait.”
“No, it can’t. You shouldn’t even be here.”
Gabe couldn’t argue that. Duty called, and heaven knew he always met his obligations. With her so clearly closing herself off to him, it wasn’t as if staying would help, anyway. He had no idea what to do for damage control.
He took a step back, torn by the embarrassment and confusion so evident in her lovely eyes. Torn by the knowledge that he was the cause of her anxiety.
It wasn’t like him not to know what to do in a situation. It wasn’t like him to not know what to say. Not knowing if he should apologize again or simply say good-night, he finally decided she wanted nothing from him but his silence and said nothing before he turned and headed for the open doors.
Addie could hear his footsteps on the balcony, listened to them fade down the steps. She was shaken to the core by his kiss, the heat in it, the quiet hunger, and stunned by how shamelessly she’d melted in his arms.
Only when she could no longer hear anything but music did she release the breath she’d held and sink against the side of the desk. As she did, she turned, pushing her trembling fingers through her hair—and saw her mother in the doorway on the other side of the room.
The knot in her stomach turned to lead.
Addie had no idea how long her mom had been standing there, or just what all she’d seen. She’d obviously seen enough, though, to put the unfamiliar spots of color on her cheeks and to make her look as if she just caught her daughter kissing the devil himself.
Rose hurried in, her hands knotted, her voice a frantic whisper. “What in heaven’s name do you think you’re doing? Are you out of your mind?”
Unable to explain what had happened to herself, much less to anyone else, Addie added the untouched flutes of champagne to the tray, carefully because she was still shaking, and headed across the room to close the doors she wished now she’d never opened.
“Addie, answer me. What is going on?”
“Nothing is going on. I’m finished in here,” she replied, her eyes on her tasks as she picked up the basket of cleaning supplies on her way back to get the tray. “What else do you need me to do?”
Her mom retrieved the tray herself. “I need for you to stay away from him,” she insisted, her sensible shoes soundless on the carpet runner. Worry threaded the hushed tones of her voice. “He’s only going to cause you trouble. He’s wrong to pursue you. You’re an engaged woman.”
“He’s not pursuing me.”
“How long has this been going on?” she demanded, clearly not hearing.
“There isn’t—”
“I know what I saw,” came the truly distressed reply. “I couldn’t hear you, but there’s not a thing wrong with my vision. Oh, Addie,” she continued, her voice falling even as her anxiety rose. “I’ve always been afraid you cared too much for him. You don’t think I can see how you feel about him, but you’ve always allowed him far more influence over you than is wise. It was one thing to have a crush on him when you were a girl, but you have to forget about that man. You’re going to mess