“And the fact that he was in a Marriage of Convenience,” she said. “That sort of pissed me off, if you want to know the truth. Sure, it was just an MC, not a full Covenant Marriage, but an MC is supposed to be some sort of a commitment, isn’t it? At least while it lasts?”
“Yes,” Drake said. “It’s supposed to be a commitment while it lasts. Mind if I turn off the lantern?”
She stilled. “Okay.”
He de-rezzed the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. But this was normal darkness and with her talent she could see well enough to make out shadows and shapes. She knew exactly when Drake removed his glasses and set them down on the table because she could see his eyes. They were psi-hot with a silvery energy that made her catch her breath.
“And while we’re on the subject,” he said, “I’d like to say that you’re wrong about not having a style. Judging by that garage kiss, your style is very high-rez.”
“Thanks, but I’m pretty sure it was just an anomaly.” Her voice sounded husky, even to her own ears. “I mean, I’ve never kissed anyone like that before in my whole life. Doubt if I ever will again.”
“Let’s run an experiment and see what happens.”
She stared at him, dazed. “You really want to do this?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “More than anything else in the world.”
“Well, okay, but just so you know, according to my para-psych profile, I’m not a very passionate person by nature.”
“A number of people have labeled me as cold-blooded.”
“Your competitors and business rivals, no doubt.” She braced her hands on his shoulders. “That’s not quite the same thing as sexually repressed.”
“You know what? I don’t give a damn about our para-psych profiles right now.”
She sucked in a deep breath and took the leap.
“Neither do I,” she said. “I mean, how bad could it be if we had sex?”
“That’s it, think positive.”
He took her mouth, slowly, deliberately, completely. This time he was fully in charge of the kiss. He was not asking for a response; he was seducing one from her.
This was not the reckless wildfire of a kiss that she had ignited in the parking garage when she had gone a little crazy. This was an intense, smoldering kiss infused with the energy of Drake’s talent.
There was definitely nothing cold-blooded about this kiss, she thought. A thrilling rush of heat swirled in the atmosphere and sizzled in her blood. This kiss was warming all the cold places inside her, setting fire to her senses. That made it a truly dangerous kiss, and the full measure of the peril in which she found herself was that, in that moment, she did not give a damn about the potentially disastrous aftermath. She would worry about the fallout later.
There was always time to regret a mistake, but a woman did not often get an opportunity to make a mistake as exciting as this one promised to be.
She closed her hands very tightly around Drake’s shoulders and let the raw power of the kiss sweep through her.
Drake tightened his hold on her until she was pressed so intimately against him she could feel the fiercely rigid outline of his erection through the fabric of their clothing. Everything about him was hard and compellingly male. His scent stirred things deep inside her. She wanted him in ways she had never wanted any man. Most of all she wanted to leave her mark on him. When this was over she wanted him to remember her.
Maybe in the future he would think of her as that woman in the parking garage, the one he’d zapped giant bugs with one memorable night. But that was better than having him forget her.
She felt his hands slide down her rib cage until his fingers settled around her waist under the pullover. He was so much bigger and stronger than she was. More to the point, he could see her even when she did her disappearing act, rendering her primary defense mechanism useless. She was here with him tonight only because he believed she could help solve the problem on Rainshadow—a problem she had helped cause. It was hardly the most romantic reason for a one-night stand.
All things considered, she probably should have locked herself in the bathroom. Instead she was locked in a senses-searing embrace.
There would be a price to pay later but not tonight. Tonight was about learning to fly.
He seized the hem of the black pullover and hauled it upward, tugging it over her head. He tossed the garment over the back of the chair, then reached behind her and unsnapped the clasp of her bra. He added the lingerie to the growing pile of discarded clothing.
At that point he paused, closed his powerful hands around her waist, and looked at her.
“You are perfect,” he said. His voice was rough around the edges and his eyes were molten. “So perfect.”
That was not true, she thought, but it was very sweet of him to say it. No one else had ever said those words to her.
Tears filled her eyes. She blinked them away and managed a misty smile. “Not perfect, but thank you.”
He tightened his hands around her waist and lifted her straight off her feet and into the air. Suddenly she was dangling above him, looking down into his blazing eyes. Startled, she instinctively clutched his shoulder with one hand to steady herself and used her other hand to push her hair out of her face.
“What the heck?” she gasped.
“You are perfect,” he repeated. “Perfect for me.”
The words sounded more like a vow than a simple statement.
Delight flooded her senses. She loved the feeling of his strong shoulders. She laughed and kicked her feet a little in midair.
“That’s good,” she said. “That’s very good. Because I have to tell you that you are perfect for me, too.”
“That’s good,” he said. “That’s very good.”
She could not see him clearly enough in the deep shadows to be certain of his expression, but she could hear the wickedly male smile that edged the words.
He carried her across the room and set her on her feet beside the bed. She was shivering with the thrill of what was happening. She grabbed the headboard to steady herself while Drake yanked aside the faded bedspread and quilt.
In an effort to show that she was not just a passenger on this high-risk ride, she fumbled with the fastening of her pants but for some reason her fingers were not functioning properly.
Drake caught her wrists and put her arms around his neck. He went to work getting her out of her pants.
“Just hang on to me,” he whispered into her ear. “I’ll take care of the details. I’m good with details.”
“I know,” she said.
He stripped her pants and panties down over her hips and let the clothes fall to her ankles. His hands closed around the curves of her rear. He squeezed gently, flexing his fingers. She heard him groan. The sound came from somewhere deep inside, a low, husky growl of raw male desire. The knowledge that he wanted her so fiercely sent her into the hot zone. She was already wet and he had not even touched her down there.
Energy danced in the atmosphere. There was power in the room—hers as well as his. Her senses sparked and flashed the way they had in the parking garage. She was suddenly free in a way she had never before experienced. She kissed Drake’s throat, inhaling his scent, and grabbed the bottom edge of his T-shirt. He laughed a little when she practically tore off his shirt and flung it aside.
She flattened her palms on his chest. He was hard and sleek and very warm to the touch. She knew that some of the heat was paranormal in nature. He was running hot. The wavelengths generated by sexual desire came from the paranormal as well as the normal ends of the spectrum—the more one was aroused, the more heat infused the aura.
Not that it took psychic talent to recognize serious lust in a man. But if a woman happened to have a fair amount of paranormal sensitivity, the fires of a very strong passion were all the more evident. Alice looked into Drake’s eyes and glimpsed the cauldron that burned below the surface. Heat lightning flashed through her. She had this effect on him. Her sense of her own feminine power acted like an aphrodisiac.
Dazed and nearly euphoric with excitement and an aching anticipation, she wrapped her hands around
