She sighed yet again, aching need mingling with denial as she pondered the facts. An intense life-threatening situation, a dangerous man, and a fierce undeniable passion—those were the ingredients of a romance novel plot. Laurie frowned in consternation. A romance novel plot was not a good start for a lasting, loving relationship. Once the danger and the intensity were gone, there was nothing left. She had been dropped into the middle of one of her own stories.
She blinked and her sense of humor kicked in so she laughed aloud just as Damien strode back into the cabin. As he closed the door, she glanced up at him but laughter spilled out of her until tears filled her eyes. He arched an eyebrow and stared at her. His eyes went darker as he approached her.
Seeing alarm and concern on his face, Laurie struggled to contain her laughter. Her breath hitched and she clamped her teeth on her lower lip. Wiping her eyes, she finally subsided into an amused grin. He pulled out the chair next to hers and sat down. His steady gaze never wavered from her.
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“Are you okay?” he demanded curtly.
“I’m fine,” she replied, a hint of mirth bubbling in her tone, “Now that I have seen the utter absurdity of all of this.”
A puzzled frown marred his features. “Huh?”
“Never mind. It’s a writer’s joke.” She grinned at his skeptical expression.
“Let me in on it,” he insisted.
“Okay. You’ve probably never read a romance in your life.” She paused, nodded toward the bookcase. “I can’t believe those are yours.”
Her questioning tone invited clarification. Other than a slight narrowing of his eyes, there was no response. Laurie frowned. Children implied a woman in the picture. She could not imagine Damien reading romances for entertainment. He wore no wedding ring but that was not a surprise in his line of work. Nor was it a guarantee that he was single. Men took off rings more easily than they put them on.
“Laurie.” Damien interrupted her thoughts, his voice low but intent.
“Oh.” She roused herself. “Anyway, this situation is straight out of a romance novel. A woman in distress, a dangerous situation, and a handsome equally dangerous man. Think about it. It’s absurd. I’ve been dropped into the middle of a typical love story, complete with mutual desire.”
Abruptly realizing what she just blurted out, Laurie clamped her mouth shut. Her face burned with the scorch of embarrassment. She had admitted too much and saw no way to take it back. It was one thing to react to him but quite another to express her feelings aloud. She dropped her gaze to the table but squirmed under his suddenly intense regard.
“So.” His husky drawl sent shivers up her spine and clear down to her toes. He covered her hand with his on the table. His thumb stroked erotic circles over her skin. Heat suffused her.
Her skin burned at his touch.
“What are we going to do about this?”
That deep baritone caressed her ears. Pleasure shimmered inside her. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach.
Chair legs scraped the wooden floor. His finger under her chin turned her head so she faced him. Her gaze locked involuntarily with his. Desire blazed, fierce and compelling, deep in his eyes. Her breath caught in her throat. Reality winked out as she drowned in pools of dark chocolate. For an eternity she stared, dazed and wanting, into his eyes.
“Why are you fighting it?” he demanded seductively, his lips so close to hers that his breath warmed her.
But the very question broke the spell. If he had said nothing, she would have surrendered without a thought. She blinked and yanked her hand from his. Standing, she dragged her gaze from his and moved away.
He caught her wrist, halted her beside his chair. She tugged free, inadvertently looking down at him.
“What’s
wrong?”
“I—I can’t.” Cursing the tremor in her voice, she crossed the room to the stairs, ready to bolt.
She sensed rather than heard him follow and turned around warily. Her knees went weak.
All he had to do was touch her and she would submit. In his eyes, she read knowledge and sheer male satisfaction. He knew what he did to her, what she wanted but denied herself. She lifted a hand, palm out, to ward him off.
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“Don’t, Damien. Please,” she pleaded for understanding. “I can’t do this. It would never work.”
He frowned. Speculation mingled with curiosity in his eyes. “What are you afraid of?”
“Nothing,” she lied, trembling with the effort not to jump into his arms. “I don’t want to repeat a mistake. I can’t do it again.”