The Rogue (The Moorehouse Legacy #4)(34)

He reached around and swept his hand up her neck, capturing her jaw. He moved his thumb back and forth over her lower lip. “How about…right now?”

He twisted her head around, tilted it back and kissed her long and slow. As her body arched back against his own, he braced his weight, holding her up.

“Let’s go to my bedroom,” he said roughly against her mouth. Then he pressed his tongue between her lips. She met the thrust with one of her own and he moaned.

Man, much more of this and he was going to have her on the grass…which was not only indecent, but ungentlemanly.

“There’s something you need to know,” she murmured.

“What?” He slid his hand lower, going between her breasts, down over her stomach and lower…until he brushed the tops of her thighs.

“I’m a virgin.”

Spike froze.

The first thing that went through his mind was that a man like him shouldn’t take something so special from a woman like Madeline Maguire. But then that conviction was followed immediately by something even more powerful: Let me be the one. The only one for her. Ever.

The idea was so outrageous and so deep, he stunned himself into silence and had to release her. He took a step back. And then another.

What the hell was he thinking? Madeline Maguire was not the sort of woman you took to bed for a one-nighter. Or even a one-weekender. So he should be ashamed of himself at any rate. But add to all that the fact that it would be her first time?

And that she didn’t know about his past?

This could not happen, he thought, appalled at himself. As much as he wanted it to, they just could not be together.

*

Okay, so maybe she could have been less blunt, Mad thought. Although given the horror on Spike’s face, couching the announcement in euphemisms wouldn’t have made any difference.

As he just stared at her, all she could do was stare back. Until she couldn’t stand the silence a second longer.

“Look, I’m not expecting more than this weekend, Spike. I just wanted to be up-front. So you weren’t surprised when we…”

He took yet another step away. Boy, if he kept that up, he was going to be over the state line and back in New York soon.

“Yeah, Mad…I don’t know.”

She ignored the stabbing sensation in her chest and looked at the sky. Which was far better than watching him inch away like she was radioactive. “It shouldn’t change anything. I’m an adult. So are you. And this isn’t the turn of the century.”

Lightning flashed on the horizon.

“Why me?” he said softly.

“Why wouldn’t it be you?” Thunder crept through the night, a slow rolling bass. “I want you.”

He coughed a little as if she’d embarrassed him. “Mad…I don’t…”

She forced a laugh. “You know what? It’s okay. I can understand you not wanting to get tangled in something messy.”

“It’s just—I shouldn’t be your first. That’s all.”

Narrowing her eyes, she shook her head. “Hold up. If you don’t want to be with me, fine. But don’t throw that chivalry thing into the mix, okay? I’m perfectly capable of deciding who I want.”

His voice grew hard. “There are things you don’t know about me.”

Mad put her hands on her hips and glared at him. Then she said, “Red.”

He frowned. “Excuse me?”

“My favorite color is red. Did you know that? And I’m an Aries. April fourth is my birthday. Also, I had my tonsils out when I was two. You know any of that?”

Anger flashed in his eyes. “Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not! My point is, neither one of us knows a great deal about the other.” She threw her hands up. “And the not knowing should probably matter. Except with you…1 don’t seem to care so much. Richard is right. I don’t have good luck with men. And that’s why…Look, you’re here with me now and I want to be with you and that’s enough for me. I don’t care about your past or what I may not know about you. I like who you are now. I like that you over-tipped the waitress this morning…and I love that crazy bike…and I’m thrilled you don’t care that I’m a strong swimmer…and—”

Something wet hit her face. A rain drop. When she tilted her head back, another hit her cheek.

“God, I do go on, don’t I,” she muttered, very aware that he was saying nothing. “Come on, let’s go inside before the storm hits us.”

When she headed for the house, he walked behind her. But unlike the trip out, she couldn’t feel the heat of his eyes on her body anymore.

By the time they hit the terrace, the rain was steady.

Mad had no intention of going back to the party. There was no way she could face that pressure cooker. And as she went up the stairs, he followed as if he felt the same way. Just before they got to the second floor, a jagged streak of lightning shot out of the sky and a split second later there was a mighty roar.

“Will your bike be okay?” she asked as they stepped off into the hallway.

“I heard the storm was coming so I moved Bette into the garage. The butler was cool about it.”

“Oh, good.” She lifted her hand casually, but she had to work at it. The thing felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. “So…’night.”