Tangled Truth(6)

“Not even close to what I was thinking.” Drew reached over and carefully scooped a dusting of snow from the edge of her scarf before it could melt against the skin of her neck.

“Then what were you thinking?” she demanded. She tilted her head—whether to avoid his fingers or give him better access, he wasn’t sure. He thought maybe she wasn’t sure, either.

“I was thinking you looked like a real, live snow angel.” He smiled and then kissed her before she could formulate a protest, grabbing her upper arms and pulling her closer to put her off balance.

He could feel her breath, as rapid and shallow as it had been that night he tied her wrists around Brandon’s neck. She was turned-on. She wanted this. She wanted him. And God knew he wanted her. Had walked around for nearly three months semihard and hurting for her, despite her obvious reticence. Just kissing her, and a fairly innocent kiss at that, was enough to make his pants uncomfortably snug.

Cautiously, he shifted his hands, one sliding around Eva’s slim waist to draw her closer still, the other cupping the back of her neck lightly as he deepened the kiss. Tasting her, all softness and heat and unexpected willingness. Her tongue was soft as velvet against his. When she finally, hesitantly, began to kiss him back, Drew had to restrain himself from moaning. With all the control he could muster, he let Eva set the pace for a time. She explored his mouth with excruciating patience, learning each curve and slide of his lips and tongue against hers. Her hands, still balled in clenched fists against his chest, never moved. Almost as though she was holding back too.

The suspense, the tension, became almost an end in itself. Drew realized they were torturing themselves and each other but also feared what might happen if he raised the stakes. It felt almost like a magic spell, this equilibrium between them, something that could be broken all too easily by one wrong move.

Except that the next move was Eva’s. She shifted her hands without warning, tugging Drew closer by the neck, suddenly plunging her tongue into his mouth and pressing herself against him with an enthusiastic whimper.

Then, as abruptly, she pushed him away and stumbled back a few steps, wiping a shaky hand across her mouth.

“Eva, I—”

“That was—”

“Sorry, go ahead.”

“No, you go.”

Drew couldn’t remember what he had started to say. Now, seeing her flushed cheeks and kiss-reddened lips, so bright against the paleness of her skin and the snowy backdrop, he was dumbstruck. She was too beautiful, too breathtaking to talk to. A snow angel, as he’d said.

“I really didn’t want you to stop then,” he finally blurted, honesty bubbling to the top under pressure. “Or, you know…ever.”

“It was a bad idea,” Eva said, as though he hadn’t spoken. “Really. I don’t know what got into me.”

My tongue? Drew thought, but was smart enough not to say.

“I thought it was a really good idea. Whatever got into you had exactly the right idea, and you should let it back in there.”

“Let what back in there,” she asked with an arch look, “your tongue?”

At least I wasn’t the one to say it.

“For starters.” He stared her down, willing her to stop reassembling the chilly shell she seemed determined to draw around herself. Her protective covering. For a minute there, she hadn’t acted like a girl who wanted or needed protection.

“Then what? You take me home, we throw caution to the wind?”

“You say that like it’s unheard of. People have been known to do that sort of thing.”

The wind was picking up, and a flurry of snow skittered across the lawn and around their legs.

“I don’t do that sort of thing,” Eva said firmly.

“How about after the third date? Would you do it then?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The night is still young, Miss Godfrey. I just took you on our first date, and it’s barely nine o’clock. So now, after a brief stop at your place so you can put on some warmer clothes, I am going to take you on our second date.”

Eva’s upper lip curved as though she was trying to keep from smiling. “Isn’t that an extended version of the first date?”

“No,” Drew said with much more confidence than he felt, “not if I take you home and you change outfits in between.”

“Okay. Assuming I accept that, what makes you think I’ll agree to a second date with you, just like that? Much less a third. I only went out with you in the first place because I lost a bet.”

“And it still stings, doesn’t it? But the dinner was pretty good, I think. And besides, you’ll come with me this time because you’re curious now.”