But as the tempo in his head increased, he began to move faster, and then faster still.
Hailey found that she had somehow managed to feel the same rhythm that was driving him. It propelled her on. She was mimicking each of his movements, recreating them so that the need increased a little more each time she moved her hips against his.
She could hardly contain herself.
They raced one another to the very top of the highest peak before them and then, just for the tiniest of moments, they flew, wrapped up in ecstasy, reveling in the powerful feeling that had seized them, before they slowly began to descend, still joined, still one with the moment and each other.
The euphoria of the afterglow lingered and they held onto one another—and it—for as long as they were able, each loath to surrender to reality and to the world that was waiting to claim them back.
And when it was all over, Dillon lay there on the sofa, feeling her heart beating hard against his.
Part of him was still floating, still wrapped in a delicious, impenetrable mist. But another part of him felt as if perhaps he needed to apologize for letting things go this far when he didn’t have the right to allow it to get this out of hand.
Because in doing it, he had made silent promises that he was not at liberty to keep.
He felt Hailey stirring beneath him as reality took on length and breadth. He could have sworn that the room had grown colder.
“I’m sorry,” Dillon said, shifting in order to give Hailey as much space as he could on the sofa. It wasn’t much.
She took his apology at face value. Dillon was just apologizing for crowding her on the sofa. Granted it wasn’t exactly the best place for this to have happened, she silently acknowledged, but even so, it had still been beyond wonderful.
“That’s all right,” Hailey assured him. “The sofa wasn’t built for comfort, not when it comes to this sort of thing, anyway,” she allowed with a soft, gentle laugh. “But that’s why beds were invented,” she told him with a wink.
The next moment, she was sitting up and then wiggling off the sofa to stand before him in what he could only describe as breathtaking magnificence.
Taking Dillon’s hand, she drew him off the sofa, as well.
“Why don’t we put my theory to the test?” Hailey suggested.
He wasn’t following her. “Theory?”
“About beds and sofas. If this was your place, we’d need a compass right about now to get to your bedroom, but my bedroom’s just down the hall,” she told him. Tugging on his hand, she led the way.
It didn’t escape her attention that he paused to grab his slacks—and his cell phone—but she was feeling far too euphoric at the moment to let it bother her.
After all, he seemed to pride himself for being perpetually on call. She accepted it as being part of who he was.
Chapter Fifteen
Feeling blissfully fulfilled, Hailey woke up the next morning with a smile on her face.
Last night had been far and away the most wonderful night of her life. Dillon turned out to be everything she could have possibly asked for in a lover—and more. They wound up making love two more times last night. Each and every time they had, Dillon was even more of a considerate, generous lover than he had been the time before.
The last time they made love, Hailey almost cried. She was that touched by him, that thrilled. Finally too spent to do anything but smile up at Dillon, she fell asleep curled up in his arms.
When she opened her eyes this morning, she was surprised to find that sometime during what was left of the night, Dillon had pulled away from her. As she looked at him now, it was obvious that he had gone to sleep as far over on his side of the queen-sized bed as possible.
It was probably just a sleeping habit of his, she told herself. Some people just needed space in order to fall asleep and they couldn’t do it if they felt confined or crowded.
Don’t make a big deal out of it. Focus on the fact that Dillon made love with you three times, not that he seems to like to sleep unencumbered.
She was close to convincing herself when her heart nearly stopped as Dillon’s eyes suddenly flew open. Her gentle, wonderful lover was looking at her as if she was some sort of invader. Or, at the very least, someone he would have rather not found lying next to him first thing in the morning.
Don’t take it personally, Hailey. Maybe your Frog Prince isn’t a morning person.
Determined to push past the painfully uneasy feeling that was beginning to form in the pit of her stomach, Hailey forced a smile to her lips as she looked at him.
“So,” she asked softly, “how did you sleep?”
“I slept okay.” His answer was short, abrupt, his voice distant.
Hailey could have sworn she almost felt the walls of his fortress resurrecting themselves around Dillon right in front of her eyes. He was regretting what had happened, she thought. She could sense it.
But she knew he had enjoyed himself, she silently insisted. Why was he doing this now? Why was he acting as if he didn’t care one way or another? Why wouldn’t he allow himself to open up to her?
Her heart sank. What did she have to do to get through to him and get him to trust her?
Well, crowding him wasn’t going to do it, she thought. With effort, she tried to get herself to back off.
Momentarily at a loss as to how to move forward, Hailey said the first thing that came into her mind. When in doubt, offer food.
“Would you like some breakfast, Dillon?” she asked. “I can—”
“Would you mind if I showered first?” he asked, sitting up in bed and shifting away from her.
She felt as if an
