“Those ruins… That setting… I went up there, Dom.”
Her forehead scrunched with such an intense effort to dredge up stubborn memories that it hurt him to watch. Aching for her, he raised his hand and traced his thumb down the deep crease in her brow. He followed the slope of her nose, the line of her tightly folded lips.
“Ah, Natushka.” The husky murmur distracted her, as he’d intended. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing wh…? Oh.”
He couldn’t help himself. He had to coax those lips back to lush, ripe fullness. Then, of course, he had to take his fill of them. To his delight, she tilted her head to give him better access.
He wasn’t sure when he knew a mere taste wouldn’t be enough. Maybe when she gave a little sigh and leaned into him. Or when her hands slid up and over his shoulders. Or when the ache he’d felt when he’d watched her struggling to remember dropped south. Hard and heavy and suddenly hurting, he tried to disentangle.
“No!”
The command was breathy and urgent. She tightened her arms around his neck, dragging him in for another kiss. This time she gave, and Dom took what she offered. The eager mouth, the quick dance of her tongue against his, the kick to his pulse when her breasts flattened against his chest.
He dropped his hands, cupped her bottom and pulled her closer. A serious mistake, he realized the instant her hip gouged into his groin. Biting down a groan, he eased back an inch or two.
“I want you, Natalie. You can see it. Feel it. But…”
“I want you, too.”
“But,” he continued gruffly, “I’m not going to take advantage of your confusion and uncertainty.”
She leaned back in his arms and considered that for several moments while Dom shifted a little to one side to ease the pressure of her hip.
“I think it’s the other way around,” she said at last. “I’m the one taking advantage. You didn’t have to let me stay at the loft. Or go with me to Dr. Kovacs, or get a copy of my driver’s license, or come with me today.”
“So I was just supposed to set you adrift far from your home with no money and no identity?”
“The point is, you didn’t set me adrift.” Her voice softened, and her eyes misted. “You’re my anchor, Dominic. My lifeline.” She leaned in again and brushed his mouth with hers. “Thank you.”
The soft whisper sliced into him like a double-bladed ax. Wrapping his hands around her upper arms, he pushed her away. Surprise left her slack-jawed and gaping up at him.
“Is that what this is about, Natalie? You’re so grateful you feel you have to respond when I kiss you? Perhaps sleep with me in payment for services rendered?”
“No!” Indignation sent a tide of red to her cheeks. “Of all the arrogant, idiotic…”
She stopped, dragged in a breath and tilted her chin to a dangerous angle.
“I guess you didn’t notice, St. Sebastian, but I happen to like kissing you. I suspect I would also like going to bed with you. But I’ll be damned if I’ll do it with you thinking I’m so pathetic that I should be grateful for any crumbs that you and the hound and Kissy Face Arabella and…” She waved an irate hand. “And all your other friends toss my way.”
The huffy speech left Dom swinging from anger to amusement. He didn’t trust himself to address her comment about Arabella. Just the thought of Natalie wearing the Londoner’s black silk put another kink in his gut. The hound was a different matter.
“This is a first,” he admitted. “I’ve never been lumped in the same category as a dog before.”
“You’re not in the same category,” she retorted. “Duke at least recognizes honest emotions like friendship and loyalty and affection.”
“Affection?” His ego dropped another notch. “That’s what you feel for me?”
“Oh, for…!” Exasperated, she twisted out of his arms and planted both fists on her hips. “What do you want, Your Highness? A written confession that I lay awake last night wishing it was you snuffling beside me instead of Duke? An engraved invitation to take his place?”
He searched her face, her eyes, and read only indignation and frustration. No subliminal fear stemming from a traumatic past event. No prim, old-maidish reluctance to get sweaty and naked. No confusion about what she wanted.
His scruples died an instant death as hunger rushed hot and greedy through his veins. “No engraved invitation required. I’ll take this.” He reached for her again and found her mouth. “And this,” he murmured, nipping at her throat. “And this,” he growled as his hand found her breast.