Would this finally be the night? No interruptions, no deadlines, just the two of them together.
They walked arm in arm from the village back to Damon’s cabin. No point in driving when the distance was little more than descending the mountain and crossing the road into the main part of the village. Plus, they’d get an after dinner walk in.
“What do you think about a drink in the hot tub when we get back?” she suggested.
Damon’s expression hardened and a worried glint appeared in his eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” His smile appeared forced. “The hot tub sounds great.”
Hmm, her bullshit radar perked up again. Why the odd reaction? Yet another question in the mysteries of Damon.
Twenty minutes later, she entered the hot tub, while he opened a bottle of wine inside. She was grateful that she had the water to hide all her less-than-perfect body parts. When Damon walked outside in his swim trunks holding a bottle of wine and two glasses, her mouth dropped open, almost hitting the water surface.
Although she’d seen his mouth-watering body a couple of times already, it still left her dazed. He was magnificent. His body appeared rock hard, as if it had been carved out of the
New Hampshire granite that was so prevalent in the mountains. Would she ever tire of staring at him? Doubtful.
She captured his face to memory, so she could revisit this magnificent week here with him. His face was hard and rugged with a strong masculine jaw. The wildness of his chin-length, wavy hair softened his profile, but they couldn’t tame the fire in his eyes. Those amber eyes were so intense, so captivating.
So out of her league.
No, she couldn’t think like that. Besides, he made her feel beautiful. Desirable. Something she had feared was no longer true after Bobby’s betrayal.
Damon poured them each a glass of Chianti and handed her one. “How’s the water?”
She accepted the glass. “It feels amazing. I’m surprised you don’t come here every night. If I lived here, I would not pass up the chance to soak my sore muscles after a day of skiing.”
He put his glass down and sat down beside her. “That’s because I’m here alone. Sitting alone in a hot tub isn’t the same as sharing it with a fascinating woman.” He sipped his wine and then peered at her over the glass.
He did it again with that look. The way he stared at her indicated he wasn’t searching for her faults the way she feared that Bobby always did—Damon was looking at her. And that ravenous gleam in his eyes showed that he wanted her.
She leaned her head back and glanced up at the stars. Countless twinkled overhead, overshadowed only by the golden moon that was near full in the dark velvet sky. “This is one thing I’ll miss while I’m in the city.”
“You don’t have to go.”
Sophie jerked upright and gaped at him. “What?”
He rolled a shoulder and glanced off toward the forest in the distance. “I mean, if you like it here, why not stay?”
She blinked. “I have a job back there.”
He shrugged. “You’ve been working fine from here, right?”
“True.” She snorted. “Too bad my boss doesn’t see it that way.”
Damon raised his glass. “Life is short, Sophie. Do what makes you happy.”
She gulped and took a sip of wine herself.
Several more minutes passed, and they’d nearly downed their glasses. He still hadn’t made a move to kiss her.
Screw it. That bit of wine helped her slough off a layer of inhibition. She leaned closer to him and brushed her lips against his.
He kissed her back with gentleness, but then pulled back. “Not here.” He scanned their surroundings once more.
She sank back against the back of the hot tub, swallowing the rejection. “Is there something out there? Is that what’s bothering you?”
His jaw tightened and then he shook his head. “Sorry. It’s just—work stuff.”
“Like what?”
“Just work,” he repeated. “It wouldn’t interest you.”
She glanced around the mountain, didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, and finished the glass of wine. Gritting back the frustration, she climbed out of the tub and wrapped a fluffy white towel around herself. “I’m going inside.”
Damon followed her in. Once inside, he pulled the curtains closed, which he hadn’t done since she stayed here. Her phone was still plugged in and playing. Michael Bublé sang Moondance. When she went to turn it off, Damon stopped her.
He offered his hand to her. “Can we dance?”
She had a towel wrapped around her as he did around his waist. “Like this?”
“Like this,” he repeated. He stepped closer to her and wrapped one hand behind her waist. With the other, he raised her hand and swayed with the music. He smelled so good, as always, with that wild forest scent that made her want to inhale more deeply around him.
He was so tall that she faced his wall of solid man chest, not that it was an issue. As he led her around the living room, she leaned her head against him. The heat of his body warmed her.
“We should be dancing to this outside, don’t you think?” she asked. “Dancing under the moonlight.”
He pulled back and stared down at her. “I’d much rather be alone with you inside.” He stopped moving and then caressed her face, smoothing his thumb over her bottom lip. Then he bent down and kissed her.
This was nothing like the chaste brush of lips outside. This time, he held nothing back. He deepened the kiss, leaving her breathless.
He teased her with hot kisses along her jawline before moving down to the delicate flesh on her neck. A ripple of desire left her trembling. She tilted her head, which encouraged him to continue.
His fingers trailed down the side of her throat and then over the top of her breasts. In the next heartbeat, he unwrapped her towel
