Taming the Lone Wolff(36)

                He far preferred the crazy hair, denim overall shorts and bare feet. That Winnie made him behave. This sultry, amped-up Winnie made him sweat. Both of them made him crazy.

                The sound of the front door opening indicated Mrs. Cross’s arrival. Winnie’s wide-eyed panic might have amused him if he hadn’t resented the interruption. “Come on,” he said. He tugged her arm until she followed him out the far door of the kitchen and into the little corridor that led to the back staircase. Pulling his coconspirator with him, he moved quickly up to the second floor.

                They stopped in front of his door. “I want you,” he muttered, ready to drag her inside and show her how a man persuaded a woman.

                Winnie’s perfectly oval face with its high forehead and freckled cheekbones paled to the color of skim milk. “You’ll get over it.”

                “Damn it, girl. Why do you have to be so stubborn?” He rested his forehead against hers, hands gripping her narrow shoulders.

                “Think this through,” she begged. She petted him with both hands as if he were a cranky toddler. “It’s too quick, too ridiculous. I wish I could blame it on the full moon, but I’m confident that in no time at all you’ll see we’re doing the right thing by resisting whatever it is. I’m meeting your family this weekend…attending a birthday party. No matter how I respond to you or you to me, we shouldn’t let this go any further. We can’t be skulking around having naughty tête-à-têtes.”

                He swallowed his irritation and held her close, soothing himself with her presence, even as he felt the ache in his loins remain fierce and rampant. Maybe she was right. But he wasn’t convinced. And he was no longer thinking clearly. “I’m not making any promises,” he said.

                She broke free of his loose hold and took three steps toward her room, hands clasped at her breast like a Victorian heroine who had narrowly escaped being ravished. “It’s like the flu,” she said. “You have to tough it out. I’m not irresistible, I promise.”

                He saw in her face that she was speaking the unvarnished truth. Or at least the truth as she knew it. Her lack of confidence in her femininity troubled him. When it came to her life’s work, she was assertive…bold. And he had no doubt that she would fight to the death for the emotionally and physically damaged women and children in her protection.

                But why could she not see how much he desired her, how beautiful she was, how special?

                He cleared his throat, surprised to find it clogged with emotion. “What time is it?” He hadn’t put on his watch earlier, hadn’t even showered yet, for that matter.

                “Eight forty-five.”

                “I told the pilot we’d be at the airport by ten-thirty. Can we still make it?”

                “The pilot?”

                “I asked my father to send the Wolff jet to pick us up. It’s quicker and more pleasant than flying commercially, and frankly, I don’t think I can be closed up in a car with you right now for several hours. Not when there’s a good chance I’d pull off the road and have sex with you in the backseat.”

                “You’re exaggerating,” she said, her voice faint.

                “I sure as hell am not. You don’t know how close you came to having me take you standing up. That would have shocked poor old Mrs. Cross, now wouldn’t it?”

                “No one really does that, do they? Except in the movies?”