Beautiful Tempest(59)

She was still turning her head from side to side to avoid getting kissed. Such a slow, gentle little war that wasn't at all satisfying other than that she was still winning it. She tried to get her arms out from under his until she realized her hands could touch the sides of his back. She dug her nails in so hard she probably poked holes in his shirt. Still he didn't release her, but he picked her up and tossed her on the bed. Before she could get out of the way, he was on top of her.

It happened, of course it would. He easily captured her mouth with the weight of his body holding her down. She still struggled, but the weak attempt ended the moment she felt one of his hands moving over her, softly on her neck, shoulder, down her arm. Such a simple caress, and yet she reacted as if it were torrid. Heat that had nothing to do with blushing permeated her whole body. She was enjoying herself! But before she succumbed completely, she needed to turn this around and take the lead so she could persuade him to let her see Jeremy. She should have done this long ago. Both Damon and Jeremy had suggested it!

She wrapped her arms around his neck and started kissing him passionately. She felt the intensity of his passion rise, too, as he deepened his kisses, teasing her with his tongue, exciting her beyond her wildest imagining. Persuasion had never felt so good, so she wasn't surprised when a moan of pleasure escaped her lips. He pulled back, his turquoise eyes lambent with desire, gazing down at her.

"Damon?" she said breathlessly.

He put his brow to hers and sighed. "It would be too easy to take advantage of you, which is why I won't. When you want me, really want me, I'm yours. But we know that hasn't happened yet. So for now, tell me what brought on the need to hurt me again? You're worried because your brother is still recovering from his injuries?"


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That subject was guaranteed to dump cold water on both of them. It certainly worked for her. But he was only guessing that Jeremy was her brother, and she still didn't want to admit to Damon that he had two of her father's children to barter with. So she didn't answer immediately while she ran a few other possibilities through her mind. Jeremy's best friend? Or . . . ?

She finally said, "He was, still is actually, one of my suitors."

"A penniless suitor?"

"I exaggerated. He isn't entirely without means. Only Percy is."

"Too old for you, isn't he?"

"Gads no, did you see how handsome he is?"

"No, actually. The lighting wasn't good that night on the riverfront, and he was too bruised the last time I saw him, but what did you expect? He's a very big man. It took quite a lot to take him down. Now don't start again," Damon added when she stiffened. "I confess, I haven't seen him since last week, so the bruising is probably gone, but I doubt his ribs have fully mended yet."

"Show me."

"No."

"Then I don't believe you."

"But I'm to believe you? That you would bring a suitor to a rendezvous with another suitor?"

"To make the masked mystery man jealous, why not?"

"Because you're too blunt for a ploy like that, Jack."

"In matters of the heart, I can be brutally blunt, I agree. But I also wanted to see which one of them would be more jealous of the other."

"Process of elimination?"

"Exactly."

"But you told me you weren't really whittling down your list, or were you lying when you said you refused to marry this year?"

Did he have to remember everything she'd said? "It was time to figure out which suitors would wait around for me to try again next year, and which ones I should warn not to."

"I thought you warned them all not to pursue you?"

"And have no fun a'tall?" It occurred to her that he was using this conversation just to find out things about her that she wouldn't otherwise admit to. "Get off me."

He put his cheek to hers again and said softly, "We're still in the middle of a battle of sorts."

She snorted. "No, we aren't. I stopped shouting long ago."

"You still did me damage."

"How?" she demanded.

"Your nails."

She winced to herself, having forgotten about that. Served him right, though, for turning that conflict on the desk into an embrace where her hands could reach some part of him. But she wasn't hurting him now and stayed very, very still to get him to release her. 

Nonetheless, she couldn't resist softly reminding him, "I hate you."

"I promise you won't always. Does that make a difference?"