Propositioned?. Kristin Gabriel
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in the night. No names. No questions. No promises.
Only Michael did make promises. With his hands. His mouth. His body. At last he sank into her, moving with deliberate slowness to draw out the exquisiteness of the moment. She’d never made love like this before. Never with so much savage hunger. So much need. So much passion. Animal passion that now consumed her, bringing out her most primal instincts. Her hands raked across his back as he brought her to the brink of ecstasy.
“Michael,” she cried, wanting more of him. All of him.
“Red,” he breathed, sweeping his lips across her mouth and shifting his body in a way that heightened the incredible sensations twisting through her.
It was enough to send her over the edge.
She took him with her, his body tensing in her arms, then shuddering with one final thrust. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breathing as harsh and uneven as her own. When at last he collected himself, he turned onto his side, pulling her with him.
“I won’t let you go,” he whispered, even as his eyelids drooped. His arm tightened around her, pulling her even closer.
Sarah relaxed against him, all her nerve endings still thrumming. The warmth of his large body enveloped her like a cocoon. She closed her eyes for a moment, still caught up in the fantasy, one she knew had to end very soon. But not yet.
Not quite yet.
SARAH AWOKE SLOWLY the next morning, the rays of the morning sun streaming through the open drapes. She winced at the brightness, yawned lazily, then suddenly she realized that she was naked beneath the silk sheets.
Naked in Michael Wolff’s arms.
Panic hit her like a jolt of caffeine. She’d fallen asleep last night. She hadn’t returned the necklace to the safe. She was in big trouble.
Her body tensed as she listened to the sound of Michael’s deep, even breathing. At least he was still asleep. She might still have a chance to make her escape before he awoke.
Carefully extricating herself from his arms, she slipped soundlessly out of the big round bed. How could she have fallen asleep last night? She remembered lying in his embrace, waiting for him to drift off. The warmth of his naked body pressed against her. The sated afterglow of her own. The dreamy visions of more nights together.
A dream that could never come true.
Instead, she’d created her own nightmare. She’d proved beyond all doubt that she wasn’t cut out for a life of crime—as if sleeping with her family’s archenemy hadn’t already done that.
But Sarah couldn’t let herself think about that now. She had to get dressed, get the necklace back in the safe, then get the hell out of there.
She frantically searched for the clothes he’d stripped off of her the night before. All she could find were her panties, bra, boots and the cloak. Her gloves, blouse and skirt had to still be in the bed with him.
Not willing to take the risk of waking him, she hastily pulled on her bra and panties, then tied the wrinkled red cloak around her neck. She placed her boots in the picnic basket, deciding not to put them on until she was out of the house. Her exit needed to be as silent as possible.
Her basket still sat directly beneath the safe. Thankfully, Michael hadn’t noticed it there last night or he might have gotten suspicious. He might have questioned her in his bed instead of making love to her there.
Memories of the night before washed over her, warming her cheeks. In the light of day, making love to Michael Wolff seemed like a huge mistake. But she’d worry about that later. After she was out of his house.
Padding silently to the safe, she slowly opened the panel. The slight squeal made her wince. Casting a glance over her shoulder, she didn’t see any movement from the bed, though the canopy drapes obscured her vision of Michael. She hoped he was a deep sleeper.
Fifty-four. Telling herself not to rush it, Sarah turned the dial on the safe, her fingers sensing the slight give in the tension of the dial when she reached the first number of the combination.
Thirteen. She reversed the direction of the dial, hearing her own rapid heartbeat in her ears.
Sixty-one. She heard the satisfying click as she reached the last number. Almost there.
Sarah slowly swung open the heavy steel door of the safe, thankful it didn’t squeak. Then she bent down and reached inside her basket for the worn velvet jewelry case, a case she hoped to never lay eyes on again.
Sarah carefully set the velvet case deep inside the safe, releasing a deep breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.
Then Michael’s cold, harsh voice turned her blood to ice. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
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