She frowned. “We weren’t having a conversation.”
“Sure we were. It was fascinating.” He moved toward her and she backed into the island.
“You didn’t think I would be happy to see you. Why is that?” he asked.
“Because you didn’t call,” she repeated.
“Call?”
“Forget it.” She waved a hand. “We agreed that making love was a one-time thing. You had no obligation to call. I understand that.”
He moved another step closer so that their bodies were nearly brushing. “But you wanted me to call? You wanted to see me again?”
“I—yes.”
Triumph moved through him. “I’ve missed you.”
Her eyes widened, and the little pulse at the base of her throat began to beat. “You have?”
He traced one finger along the lace at the top of her camisole. “I’ve been fantasizing again.”
Zoë swallowed hard. “Really?”
“Mmm, hmm.” The image in his mind right now was of taking her on that island that she had backed herself against. While he continued to trace the lace of her camisole, he used his free hand to nudge her toward him so that he only had to lower his head to whisper in her ear, “Want to know what I have in mind?”
“No.” She placed a hand on his chest.
He drew back then. “No?”
“I can’t. I came here to tell you something…. You’re making me forget it.”
“Can’t we talk about it later?” he asked as he brushed kisses along her jawline.
She increased the pressure of her hand on his chest until he drew back again.
“You might not want to make love to me once I tell you. Last night when I was at the Blue Pepper someone gave me an envelope addressed to you. And then I left with this other man. He…I…” She paused and began to bite on her bottom lip. “We ended up spending the night together.”
“You spent the night with another man?”
Heat flooded her cheeks. “Yes. And he took the envelope. It must have been what he was after all along. He must have seen Rad deliver it to me. That must be why he approached me and…I’m so sorry. The envelope must have been important. And I—you…that’s what I wanted Ryder to tell you. I thought you should know. I’ll go now.”
Would she ever stop surprising him? He hadn’t expected a confession. And she felt she’d betrayed him by letting Ethan steal the envelope? The pleasure that gave him added fuel to the fire that had burst to life the moment he’d seen her. He took the hand she had pressed against his chest and raised it to his lips.
She simply stared at him.
“Answer one thing for me?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“Let me make love to you again?”
13
ZOË FELT HER THOUGHTS slipping away as quickly as if the plug holding them in her head had been pulled. There wasn’t room for thoughts, not when there were so many feelings pouring through her. Delight. Surprise. And desire. There would always be desire with this man. But she really shouldn’t be giving in to it. If he wasn’t standing so close, if her head wasn’t filled with images of making love with him, if her heart wasn’t beating so hard, she might be able to say no.
“I…we…”
“Okay, let me put it another way,” Jed said. “You’re used to analyzing data, right?”
She nodded.
“Facts, evidence, that kind of stuff?”
“Yes.” How was she supposed to think clearly when his mouth hovered a breath away from hers?
“Try this. I want you.” He pressed his lips against the corner of her mouth. “You want me.” He moved his mouth to the other corner. “Don’t you?”
“Mmmm.” The feelings he was stirring in her were glorious. She wanted to drown in them. But she really shouldn’t.
“Come with me, Zoë.”
Oh, she wanted to. More than anything, she wanted this man—his touch, his mouth, his body pressed against hers. Hadn’t she come here secretly hoping that Jed would be here with Ryder?
Drawing back, she met his eyes and saw some, if not all, of what she was feeling. Taking a deep breath, she said, “Yes.”
She saw triumph flash into his eyes. Then he lowered his mouth to hers before either one of them had a chance to think about it anymore. Zoë let the feelings swamp her. She’d never tasted hunger like this before. She wasn’t sure if it was his or her own or a combination. And beneath it she tasted a desperation that was also new. This was not the playful man who’d made love with her in the hammock. His mouth was more demanding. His teeth nipped and scraped, sending chills and fire along her nerve endings. And his hands—they were impatient, rough, thrilling. He could have anything he asked. The realization frightened her, thrilled her. All she wanted to do was give and give.