Moonlight Over Manhattan(76)

“Maybe I am. Maybe I want to be.”

“So is this another Challenge Harriet?”

“I don’t know. But I do know that if you want to come in, then I’d like that.”

She was so straightforward. So honest. It was one of the things he loved about her. Liked, he corrected himself quickly. Liked, not loved.

He quieted his conscience by reminding himself that she wasn’t a child. She was a woman with a mind of her own, and it seemed that mind had been made up. Who was he to talk her out of doing something they both wanted? And it wasn’t as if it was complicated.

What he wanted was simple.

Driven by a need he couldn’t quite identify, he cupped her face in his hands, taking his time.

The whole time she’d been living in his apartment, he’d thought about kissing her. By the time she’d moved out, he’d found it hard to think about anything else.

None of his thoughts had come close to reality.

The moment his mouth touched hers, he realized that there was nothing simple about this. Nothing simple about his relationship with Harriet. Nothing simple about the chemistry that burned through them, or the way she made him feel.

Her lips were cool and soft and he felt them part under the pressure of his. He kept it gentle, exploring her mouth with slow easy kisses intended to relax her, but they created nothing but a delicious, dangerous tension and slow and easy swiftly turned into raw and passionate. After five seconds of kissing her he was so aroused that for a moment he forgot that they were standing outside her apartment in full view of anyone who happened to pass.

Not that many people were passing. It was a winter night in New York City and most people were tucked away inside.

Ethan had his own internal warmth, all of it generated by kissing Harriet. He felt her arms wrap round his neck and her body press against his. If she was undecided about what should happen next, there were no outward signs of it.

Above them the sky was inky dark but the street was bathed by the ghostly wash of lamplight. He felt the snow, light as the air it floated through and he felt her sway and then wrap her arms round his neck and press closer. She molded herself against him, delivering hot, melting kisses that burned through the last of his doubts. He could feel her soft curves through her coat, felt temptation and promise. He also felt her shiver.

It was the shivering that cut through the brain-clouding desire.

He rubbed his hands down her arms and then folded her close, using his body to protect her from the icy bite of the winter air.

She felt fragile, but he knew she wasn’t fragile.

“It’s cold.” Although right now he didn’t feel cold. He felt nothing but heat.

She stayed in the shelter of his arms, her forehead resting on his chest so that all he could see was the top of her head.

He had a feeling she was making a decision about something, hovering on the edge of something, not sure whether to step forward or not. He probably should have stepped back, but he didn’t want to.

For a moment she said nothing, and then she lifted her head. Her eyes shone with anticipation. “It is cold. Shall we go inside?”

She was inviting him in and it was obvious that she had more than coffee and warmth in mind.

A better man than him would have refused. He probably should have refused. But somehow he found himself following her up the stairs to her apartment. She’d added a few more festive touches since he’d helped her with the Christmas tree—a bowl of silver pinecones, strings of Christmas lights that added warmth to the welcome.

Apart from books, his apartment was minimalist. So minimalist that his sister teased him that if anyone broke in they’d leave empty-handed because they’d assume the place was unoccupied. Standing in Harriet’s cozy apartment he wondered whether perhaps he should buy a few cushions. Maybe a plant or two. A rug like the one she had, in muted shades of green?

There was no overhead lighting, just lamps that bathed the room in a golden glow, picking out the sunlit yellow walls and the blue sofas. Fresh flowers provided a bright splash of color on a day when the world outside the window was winter white. It was like being outdoors on a sunny day. Just stepping over the threshold instantly made a person feel better.

“Would you like a drink?”

He wondered if she was having second thoughts.

“Not unless you do.” What he wanted was her. Shy, or not shy, he didn’t give a damn as long as she was naked and with him all the way.

They exchanged a single look and then she was in his arms again and he was kissing her as if this was going to be the last thing they ever did on this earth. They crashed into the door, their combined weight slamming it shut and he braced his arm against it, caging her.

She breathed his name against his lips, then fumbled with his coat and he took over, dealing with buttons as he crushed her against the door and claimed her mouth with his. They kissed as if they had no choice in the matter, as if it were life-giving, as essential as breathing. They kissed without pausing or breaking off as they undressed. Her hair clung to the wool of his coat and he pushed it away from her face, his fingers sliding through snow-dampened strands of scented silk as he devoured her mouth with his.

His coat hit the floor first, then hers, closely followed by the rest of their clothes.

He’d promised himself that if this ever happened he’d take his time and savor every second, but now there was nothing but urgency and desperation as if by slowing down he might lose the moment or, worse, lose her. He caught a glimpse of creamy flesh, a flash of gold, the peep of dusky pink and he didn’t know whether to look or touch. All he knew was that he didn’t want this to stop.