A Season of Angels (Angels Everywhere #1)(55)

“Is your place any safer?”

He laughed softly at that. “No, but it’ll ease my conscience. In the time it takes us to get there I just might find the strength to keep my hands off you. But I doubt it. You’ve got me so tied up in knots, it’s a wonder I’m able to do my job.”

Monica wasn’t in any better condition herself. Brushing the hair from her face, she forced herself to think rationally. That, she soon realized, was a mistake. “As far as I can see we have absolutely nothing in common,” she mumbled under her breath, discouraged and depressed.

“Except we’re so damn hot for each other we’re both about to break out in a heat rash.”

“A relationship built on physical attraction is doomed from the beginning.”

Chet nodded. “I couldn’t agree with you more.”

“So,” she said, straightening her spine, searching for the necessary resolve to do the right thing. “Where do we go from here?”

“The logical choice is to bed. It’d help matters tremendously, don’t you think? It’s what any other couple would do in like circumstances. We just might be able to put this foolishness behind us and get on with our lives.”

His words felt like a cold slap in the face. “That’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said to me,” Monica managed despite her outrage. “I’m not some bimbo you can use to satisfy your carnal cravings and then toss aside. Dear heaven.” She moaned, covering her face with both hands. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”

“All right, all right,” Chet whispered, kneeling down in front of her. He pried her hands away from her face, clasped them in his own and kissed her knuckles. “You’re right, it was a stupid thing to suggest. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”

Leaning forward she rewarded his honesty with a lengthy kiss, one that gained in intensity and momentum until they were both sprawled across the top of her mattress, their arms and legs entwined.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he whispered, his voice husky and low. He was struggling for control and for that matter so was she, but it felt so wonderfully good to be in his arms. Better than anything she’d experienced in all her twenty-five years.

“I better leave,” he whispered.

“Not yet.” She ran her tongue along the underside of his jaw, loving the taste of him; the scent of rum-and-spice aftershave enveloped her. She burrowed more completely into his embrace. For a moment she thought he intended to push her away, but instead he released a long, slow sigh and held her tightly against him.

“Monica . . . Stop,” he muttered between clenched teeth, “otherwise I won’t be held responsible for what happens.”

Monica smiled to herself, knowing he’d never do anything to hurt her. Where the assurance came from she couldn’t be sure, but she felt it as strongly as she did his arms around her.

“I knew it would be a mistake to come,” he mumbled, seemingly to himself.

Monica continued to move her mouth over his throat. Her tongue made small circular movements against his jaw and over his ear.

“You’re playing with fire,” he said, his voice stiff with resolve.

“I know,” she assured him.

“A man can only take so much of this.” The words were barely audible.

“I know that too.”

“I didn’t mean for things to go so far,” he whispered. He rolled away from her and changed their positions so that they were lying on their sides, facing each other.

Monica’s head was cradled in his upper arm, their mouths separated by scant inches. Their breath merged and mingled. Her thigh met his. She was happier than she could remember being in a good long while. Monica would have been utterly content to stay exactly like this for the next hundred years.

Being here with Chet like this forced her to acknowledge how incredibly lonely she’d been in the last few years. Her mother had died and her friends, the only two she considered good friends, had both married and moved away. Funny she hadn’t realized how empty and pointless her life had become. Nor had she realized what poor company she was to herself and others.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

Their eyes met and she found him openly studying her. She quickly averted her gaze. “I didn’t realize how downright good a man could feel.”

He laughed softly and kissed the tip of her nose. “That’s very honest of you.”

“I couldn’t very well deny it.”

“You could, and have,” he said. His fingertips grazed her temple, softly caressing her face. “I’ll be honest too. You feel damn good in my arms. Tonight,” he whispered, “while you were with Michael, I was like a caged animal.”

“He doesn’t mean anything to me,” she rushed to explain.

He closed his eyes and nodded. “I know, but it didn’t make any difference. There was this band around my chest that tightened every time I thought about the two of you together. Yet I know in my heart Michael’s a better man than I’ll ever be.”

“Don’t say that,” she pleaded, feeling the panic rising in her voice. His next suggestion might be that they not see each other again and she couldn’t bear that.

“Monica, listen—”