She swallows. “I know you’ve been with a lot of women. I know you probably still are—”
“I’m not. If you’re asking how long it’s been since I’ve been with anyone else, it was well before I first laid eyes on you. And there’s been no one after.”
“Not even Alyssa?”
I chuckle, not only because I hear a note of jealousy in the question, but also because the very idea is so far beyond the realm of possibility I can’t help but laugh.
“Why is that so funny?”
“Alyssa Gallo is seventeen years old. She’s a student in an art program I sponsor at one of Dominic Baine’s rec centers in Chelsea.”
“Oh.” She frowns, shaking her head. “But that first morning I came here, you let me believe—”
“I only let you believe what you wanted to about me. I thought it would’ve been easier if you despised me.”
I’m lost staring down into her desire-drenched, questioning eyes. All those reasons and rationales I had for inflicting harm on Daniel Hathaway by taking what he cherished most fell away after the first day she showed up to pose for me. The game I was so certain I could master had slipped out of my control before I’d even realized it.
“I thought if you despised me it would be easier for me not to feel anything for you.” My hand moves up to caress her exquisite face. “I was wrong about that, Melanie. I’ve been wrong about everything when it comes to you.”
Pulling her closer, I take her mouth in a slow, passionate kiss. Despite the wild gallop of my heart, and the lust that’s spurring into me with every hard beat of my pulse, I don’t hurry. I want her dizzy with pleasure before I’m finished with her.
I want her to understand all the things I can’t summon the courage to say.
That I’m sorry for how we started out.
That I wish I were a better, more deserving man.
If I can’t tell her with words, I can tell her with pleasure.
And in that way, I intend to leave no shred of doubt.
24
MELANIE
“Come with me,” he says, threading his fingers through mine after his deep, infinitely thorough kiss leaves me out of breath and boneless with need.
I’m too eager to feel his mouth on me again to question what he has in mind. With my hand in his, he starts walking further into the immense study, toward the ornate mahogany millwork of the rear wall. It’s not until I see the discreet crystal doorknob that I realize there’s a doorway cut into the dark, polished wood.
Jared opens it, revealing another large space. Inside this room is a huge king-size bed with four thick posters at the corners. Luxurious silk fabric in rich, masculine shades of bronze, burgundy, and cream cover both the bed and the walls. The room is decadent, yet classic, a fitting backdrop for the ruggedly gorgeous man standing in it now.
I give him an arch look. “A bedroom connected to your study? How convenient. I don’t suppose I want to know how often your conversations start in the other room and end up in here.”
He smirks. “This house has twenty bedrooms. I’ve never seen the benefit of this one until right now.”
Reaching past me, he closes the door behind us. His fingers light gently under my chin, tilting my face up for another of his soul-melting kisses.
“Where’d we leave off?” he murmurs, his teeth gently nipping my lower lip as he draws back to look at me. Desire smolders in his whisky-dark eyes. “Oh, yeah. I remember. I was just about to make you scream again.”
He takes my face in both his hands, then claims my mouth in a consuming kiss that’s even more possessive than the ones that have come before. I can taste his wild need, his unspoken demand. I taste myself in his kiss, too. The sweetness that lingers on his lips only heightens my arousal. My core pulses with every commanding thrust of his tongue, my nerve endings alive with electricity.
Still kissing me, Jared uses his body to guide me backward, inching us toward the massive bed. I sink into his strength, his masterful domination of my body and my will. Dimly, I remind myself this is the same dangerous, enigmatic man I met a week ago. The same arrogant, merciless artist whose reputation is as debauched as his paintings.
I can’t pretend Jared is none of those things, but I’ve glimpsed another side of him, too. A raw, tormented side of him that I feel instinctively he shares with no one. We’re alike in that way. We’re alike in more ways than I ever could have imagined.
And then, there is this side of him.
Passionate. Commanding.
Devastatingly seductive.
With our kiss unbroken, his strong hands tremble a bit as they leave my face to roam down the front of me. I’m dizzy with desire, hot all over, my skin aching and overheated as he caresses my naked breasts.
I cling to him, moaning as he lightly pinches my sensitive nipples while greedily devouring my mouth.
His name is a harsh whisper that gusts out of me as another orgasm begins to boil inside me. I’m drenched between my thighs, both from the climax he gave me in the other room and from the unbearable need to have him inside me.
I need him there now. I want him inside me so desperately, I can hardly stand the waiting.
“Jared.” I gasp his name as his mouth breaks from mine and descends my throat.
He dips his tongue into the sensitive notch at the base of my neck while his hands caress me with increasing urgency. His palms curve around my backside. He squeezes my ass, parting me, kneading me as his mouth trails fire onto my
