One Night of Passion. Kate Hardy
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with a life of its own. He rubbed a strand of it against his cheek, smoothed it over his lips, tasted it.
Then once more he buried his face into it, breathed deeply, knew the scent now—the hints of citrus and woods—and woman. This woman.
He wanted to give her a night to remember. He didn’t want to erase her husband’s memory. He knew she wouldn’t forget just as he could never forget Amy. But equally, from here ever after, whenever Edie thought about making love, Nick wanted his face to come to mind.
He pulled back and undid his tie, then stripped off his coat and tossed it on the bureau. All the while he kept his gaze locked on hers. Smiling, Edie lay back against the pillow and watched him with a kind of hungry fascination that made his blood heat even more.
He reached for his shirt buttons, fingers trembling. As he did so, Edie raised a hand to touch his. “May I?”
Undress him? Nick wasn’t used to giving up control. It seemed far too intimate. Risky. But Edie was smiling at him, looking hopeful, eager yet a little hesitant, too. And he knew he didn’t want her hesitant. He wanted her to enjoy, to be involved, an active equal partner in their lovemaking.
So he gave a quick nod. “Be my guest.”
Resolutely he dropped his hands to his sides and let her fingers do the work, certain his could have done in mere seconds. But the way they were trembling as she touched him, he wasn’t sure that was true.
Edie sat up on the bed and leaned toward him, then began to studiously go to work on his shirt buttons. Her knuckles brushed lightly against the underside of his chin as she undid the top button. The soft brush of her skin against his made his chin tingle. As she moved lower, she caught her lower lip between her teeth as she concentrated on each one in turn.
His fingers clenched into fists to keep from pushing her hands away and doing it himself. It would be so much quicker and easier and he would get to feel her bare fingers on his skin that much sooner.
But having relinquished control he knew he couldn’t wrest it from her now, knew she had to be the one to set the tempo.
So he let her—even as the tentative dance of her fingers damned near killed him.
Edie took her time.
She didn’t know what was going to happen after tonight.
She didn’t care. She didn’t want to think about it. Since Ben had died, she’d spent too much of her life trying unsuccessfully to focus on the moment when she’d really never been able to do more than endure.
Not now.
Not tonight.
Not when this moment and those immediately following were going to be spent with Nick Savas—making love with Nick Savas.
She was going to savor it. Why not?
She’d missed the intimacy of the bedroom. Her first experience, with Kyle, had left her wondering what all the excitement was about. During the few weeks they’d been together, he had been fierce and hungry and demanding. He’d always directed things. Always taken charge. And with the eagerness of youth—he’d been twenty-three—Kyle had been more concerned with the end than the journey along the way. He’d never given her a chance to discover the subtleties of lovemaking.
With Ben it had been different. The two of them had learned together. They’d explored together. With Ben it had been about the journey, about pleasing, about loving, not simply about the orgasmic rush. It had been about knowing and being known.
She knew better than to expect that here. A single night meant nothing compared to the years she’d had with Ben. But until tonight she’d never even been tempted. She wasn’t sure what that meant.
She wanted to find out.
Would she be in bed with him if Kyle hadn’t turned up?
Probably not. Her well-developed common sense would likely have led her back to her room at a reasonable hour to her chaste single bed. And once there, then what? Would she have dreamed of Ben?
Lately she had not dreamed of him. For the past few months, she barely remembered dreaming at all. For all that she wanted to hang on to every memory, she knew he was slipping away from her. If she had gone to bed alone, would it have been memories of Ben that would have kept her awake? Or would she have tossed and turned all night thinking about this dark, handsome man who was holding so still now while she undid the buttons of his shirt.
The shirt was starched, the buttons stiff. It took a while. Edie enjoyed every moment.
It wasn’t as if she was going to do it again, she told herself. Nick had been absolutely clear about that.
They were having a “one-night stand,” she thought, and was appalled that those trite tawdry words could be used to describe what was happening at this very moment.
It didn’t feel tawdry at all.
For all that it was unexpected, it felt—right.
So Edie shoved the words away, shoved all the rest of her life away, and focused on the man—and the moment.
She slid the last button loose, then eased the shirt off his shoulders and down his arms. Before she could decide where to go from there, Nick took it from her and tossed it aside. Then he yanked his undershirt out of his black trousers and started to pull it over his head.
Edie caught his hands. “Mine,” she said, astonished at the word as it came out of her mouth.
Nick groaned, but he dropped his hands. “I get to undress you, then,” he muttered, giving her a look that promised action.
“When it’s your turn,” she agreed, trying to sound as if it didn’t make her shiver with anticipation. She was getting enough shivers just peeling his shirt over his head, then resting her hands for a moment on his shoulders before daring to rake her nails lightly down over his hair-roughened chest.
She could feel a tremor run through him as he remained still under her hands, his dark eyes hooded, watching her every move. She traced circles around his nipples, then arrowed her fingers down the center of his chest across his abdomen. They stilled when they came to rest at his belt.
“I suppose that’s yours, too,” Nick rasped, looking down.
Edie looked, too. “Sounds good to me,” she said. “Do you want to stand up?”
He stood. She was just above eye level with the belt in question now. She brushed her fingers lightly over the front of his trousers as she began to undo the buckle. Nick drew a quick breath.
The buckle was easier than the buttons had been, and in bare seconds she had it undone. Without stopping to think about what she was doing, Edie skimmed down the zip of his trousers. Only when she did so, did she realize how close she was to the hot flesh that she wanted to touch, that she could tell, from its persistent press against the front of his shorts, wanted to touch her.
Belt undone, zip down, his trousers fell to the floor. Nick toed off his shoes and kicked them away, then stepped out of his pants and stood before her in only a pair of cotton boxers that did nothing to hide his arousal.
“Yours, too, obviously,” he said gruffly, looking down. Then he lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Now it’s my turn.”
“I’m not done,” Edie protested.
“Neither one of us is done,” Nick said, grasping her hands in his, holding them loosely so she couldn’t continue. “Let me catch up.”
He bent his head and kissed his way down her bare shoulders, his hot mouth against her skin making her shiver as his fingers went to the back of her dress. Then he groaned and dropped his head against her shoulders.
“What?”
“There’re five thousand buttons back here.”
“Only forty, I think.” But she remembered standing still for what seemed like