An Unforgettable Lady(69)

As he met her eyes unrelentingly, she got angry.

"Goddamn you." When he remained silent, she demanded,

"Why did you do this to me? Did you just want to see me beg?"

"Of course not."

"So why? If I'd known this was just some kind of game—"

"It has never been a game," he said fiercely.

Frustration made her lash out. “ Well, then I never pegged you for a coward. If you really are king of the one-night stands, what's the big deal with a little sex? You've done it before and managed to survive the experience with your I-am-a-rock routine still intact."

With lightning speed, his hands gripped her arms so hard it hurt.

"Don't press me, Grace. I'm not in the mood."

"Then get in a better one. Kiss me," she murmured, looking up into his eyes.

"Stop it,"

"No.”

With a surge of power, he pinned her arms behind her and pushed her back against the wall.

"Christ, is this all you want?" He pressed his arousal into her body.

She looked at him boldly "Tonight? Yes."

His eyes closed. And then they snapped open and his lips came down on hers.

His kiss was hard and she wanted it that way. Pulling her arms free, she grabbed on to his jacket and wrenched it from his shoulders as she felt his hands come up to the bodice of her gown. There was a tearing sound as he ripped the delicate chiffon from her body and covered her breasts with his palms.

His mouth was hot and hungry over hers, his tongue thrusting inside of her as he pressed against her body. Digging her nails into his back, she moaned.

At the hoarse sound, he froze. Looking into her eyes, he pushed her away abruptly.

Raking a hand over his short hair, he bent down and picked up her wrap.

“Go to bed," he told her, throwing it over.

Grace caught the silk but refused to cover herself, aware that her breasts were bare and he was having a hard time not looking at them. "You want me."

Smith came back at her in a rush, planting his hands against the wall on either side of her head with a loud noise. As he leaned in close, she felt no fear as his eyes passed over her body.

"Yeah, I want you. So bad it f*cking hurts. Satisfied?"

"Not even close," she said softly, her words dripping with intent. She reached up and stroked his cheek.

His gaze narrowed on her lips but then he closed his eyes and stayed like that for a long time.

When he looked at her again, he was cold as ice. He calmly stepped back.

"What changed?" she whispered.

"You're not thinking clearly tonight. And I wasn't this morning."

He turned away and walked into his room. She heard his door shut quietly and realized it was the first time he'd closed her out.

In the silence, reality came back and hit Grace so hard she felt like crying out. She looked down in mute shock at the ruined gown. With fumbling hands, she pulled the bodice back up so that her breasts were covered and went to her room.

She couldn't bring herself to look at his door as she passed by.



* * *



Grace's first thought the next morning was that maybe it had all been a crazy nightmare. Then she looked over and saw the torn dress hanging off a chair.

Oh, God. She really had tried to seduce him and he really had turned her down.

Groaning, she went into the bathroom and took two aspirin. After having a shower, she threw on her thick robe and went out into the hall.

His door was ajar.

"Smith?" she said softly. When there was no answer, she walked into the room

One bed had been slept in, or at least sat on. Two pillows were propped against the wall and a book was splayed out on top of the covers. The other bed was neatly made and had his leather jacket and the tuxedo draped at the foot of it.

She was about to leave when she saw his wallet on the antique bureau. Next to it were his gun, holster, and a set of keys.

“ Looking for something?”

Her eyes flew up to the mirror over the bureau. He was standing in the doorway with a cup of coffee in his hand. He looked rakishly handsome, wearing only a white T-shirt and that pair of low-hanging black pants. Her mouth went dry as she thought about kissing him and she wanted to curse. There seemed to be no end to her vivid imagination or her willingness to throw herself at him. After last night, she should have learned a thing or two.

"Shower's free," she said.