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But then, that was where things began to suddenly stall.
At the front door, Katie turned and looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes just before she turned the key in the lock.
"Why don't you come in for a little while?" she suggested.
He was debating the pros and cons of that when he suddenly found himself being playfully pulled across the threshold and into the semidark house.
Marcos, he knew, was still at the restaurant. That meant that his sister was home by herself.
"Maybe I can look in on Wendy," he agreed, even as he was doing his best not to think how d.a.m.n s.e.xy Katie looked in that black dress.
The winter-white shawl had managed to dip down, exposing her nude back. More than anything, he wanted to run his hand along her skin....
And that perfume she was wearing-had she worn it all along, or was this something new? Whatever it was, it was causing him to be exceedingly aware of every move she made.
It occurred to him that he had been relatively oblivious to the woman who, for the past two hours, had been occupying center stage in his thoughts. In his world.
He walked up the stairs like a man caught up in a dream.
He promised himself that once he started talking to Wendy, whatever it was that was wrong with him would pa.s.s. But when he came up to Wendy's door, he found that it was closed. That meant that his sister was either asleep, or almost asleep. Either way, he was not about to disturb her.
What he needed to do, he silently told himself, was to get a grip and to man up.
Turning away from his sister's door, he wound up brushing up against Katie, who was standing directly behind him-much too close for his comfort. It was time to take a stand.
What Blake fully intended to do when he took hold of Katie's shoulders was to gently move her back and then aside so that he could go back downstairs and leave. He'd had absolutely no intention of drawing Katie to him so that she was even closer than before.
And he certainly hadn't thought he was going to lower his head so that his lips could touch hers.
And absolutely under no circ.u.mstances did he have any intention of kissing her.
But she was and they did and he was.
Moreover, he couldn't stop, even when deep down inside of him, he knew that stopping was the right thing to do.
Without knowing quite how, he swept Katie away from Wendy's bedroom door and somehow wound up moving down the hallway to the guest bedroom that she was currently occupying.
His lips never left hers during that whole time.
And all he was really aware of was that the more he kissed Katie, the more he not just wanted to kiss her but needed to kiss her. And the more he desperately desired her.
If this continued- No, it couldn't continue.
With effort, Blake pulled his head back, breaking the connection between them. He saw the bewildered look in her eyes and felt that it clearly mirrored what he was feeling inside at the moment. Not that he could afford to share that with her.
"Katie," he whispered, "we have to stop-"
She wanted to shout: No, we don't, but she settled on a single word: "Why?"
The simple question completely threw him for a second.
Why?
Well, G.o.d knew he certainly didn't want to stop. It was for her sake, not his own, that he had pulled away. Couldn't she see that?
"Because if we don't," he told her truthfully, choosing his words slowly, "I'm going to wind up making love to you."
She searched his face, still unable to see why he would stop cold like that, just when her body temperature had reached the boiling point.
"And you don't want to?" she guessed, her eyes intently on his.
"Don't want to?" he echoed incredulously. How could she possibly think that? He was struggling to make the supreme sacrifice and she thought he was just pa.s.sing the time of day here? Was she just pretending to return his kisses with fervor? Didn't she know what was going on inside of him? "It's the only thing I do want right now." he swore.
Katie smiled at that. Smiled in such a way that he could literally feel her smile right down to his very toes. Moreover, it jarred him as if he'd just stood in the path of a kicking mule.
The next moment, he heard her murmur, "Well, then?" just before she sealed her lips to his. Just before she sealed his fate.
The matter was no longer in his hands. He was on board a runaway train, clinging to the side of it for all he was worth, as heat, pa.s.sion and desire roared through his veins, clamoring for tribute.
For fulfillment.
Even as every fiber of his being seemed to all but shout out for her.
The door to Katie's bedroom stood open, a silent invitation to them.
It didn't go unheeded.
They all but tumbled across the threshold and into her room. Blake was only vaguely aware of closing the door with his elbow. It was the only part of his body that wasn't consumed with showing Katie just how very much he desired her. Even as she filled every inch of his senses, of his soul, he craved even more.
The slinky, come-hither dress she had on fell to the floor after only a couple of tugs, leaving her clad in a black lacy thong and her strappy high heels, bathed in the heat of his desire.
One pull and the thong was no more. With her arms wrapped around his neck, Katie stepped out of the shoes. Only his desire remained steadfast, clinging to her skin like the hazy moisture from a sauna.
Yes, oh yes, her mind cried over and over again as she eagerly pulled at his clothing, tugging first his open jacket, then his shirt off his shoulders until they were both on the floor in a heap.
She fumbled with the belt at his trim, hard waist, then with surer fingers coaxed away the fabric from his thighs until those garments, too, joined the rest of his clothing on the floor.
His desire for her was clearly evident and every fiber in her being silently cheered as her antic.i.p.ation mounted.
His lips were hot on her skin, kissing her everywhere, making the fog in her spinning brain widen until it completely swallowed her up as she felt the thrust of his tongue along the most sensitive part of her.
For her, there was nothing and no one, only Blake. Only this feeling that he had created within her, this feeling that was now exploding inside of her over and over again.
She frantically wanted to race to a climax, but at the same time, she wanted to hold it back, hold it back and savor this because even in her revelry, even with the wine coloring everything, there was a small part of her that thought, that knew, that something this wondrous might never happen again.
With all her heart, she wanted to freeze time, or, at the very least, make it progress in slow motion. So she reined herself in, lavishing kisses along his neck and chest the same way he had done to her. Reveling in the fact that his breathing had grown as labored as hers.
The sound filled her head even as demands and desires pounded all through her.
And then he was over her, pressing her into the bed, his weight hovering over her like the promise of rainbows in the rain. Her breath caught in her throat as he entered her, the movement as gentle as his first kiss had begun. And then, as with the kiss, the intensity grew, taking on width and breadth as the rhythm between them increased, growing in scope until that was all there was.
And then there was more.
Chapter Fourteen.
Her body still throbbing, Katie seriously began to doubt that she would ever be able to breathe normally again. But eventually, she finally managed to drag just enough air into her lungs to dispel the need to gasp and pant. Her chest ceased heaving.
As did his.
Her head was resting against his chest now and she felt the beat of Blake's heart beneath her cheek. The steady rhythm was infinitely comforting and she felt that if she could remain like this forever, she'd never want for anything else.
She had discovered bliss and this was it.
But it was inevitable that this was finite. Blake shifted and she had to move, even if it was ever so slightly. The end of the interlude was drawing close. But just as a sadness began to unfurl within her, Katie felt his arm close around her and, just as when they'd first walked out of the restaurant an eternity ago, she curled into his arm, huddling into his warmth. Drawing her contentment from that.
She felt Blake draw in a deep breath and then he said her name as if it was a precursor to something she wasn't going to like.
"Katie-"
Warranted or not, survival instincts immediately kicked in. A very real fear took hold that he was going to say something that would negate what had just happened, or, at the very least, leech some of the starlight away from it. She didn't want to risk losing that, not just yet.
So when he said her name, Katie raised her head and placed her fingertips against his lips, momentarily silencing him.
"Shh," she begged. "Don't say anything. Not a word," she instructed softly just before she laid her head back down on his chest.
Closing her eyes, Katie allowed her mind to peacefully drift off and soon, the rest of her did, too. Before she realized it, she was asleep.
She slept, while Blake, enveloped in the darkness-they had never turned on light in the bedroom-dwelled on what had just transpired.
Dwelled on what he had done.
What had possessed him? he silently demanded. Where was his control? His common sense? Why hadn't he just walked her to the door and left her there? Why had he felt so compelled to test the waters of this brand-new environment he'd suddenly found himself in?
He looked down at the sleeping woman curled up against him and felt-heaven help him-fresh stirrings.
For Katie.
Suddenly, the simple had become so very complicated. And it was all his own fault.
The darker it grew outside the bedroom window, the darker his thoughts became.
Moving her shoulders, Katie stretched her body like a contented feline waking from a long, decadent nap. She realized that there was a smile on her face, a wide, guileless, happy smile even before she opened her eyes. Her smile had nothing to do with any dream and everything to do with what had happened before she had surrendered to sleep.
She stretched again and this time realized that even though she was really extending her body to its limits, she wasn't coming in contact with anything other than sheets and part of a comforter.
She reached for Blake as she opened her eyes and discovered that she was reaching for someone who wasn't there.
"Blake?" she murmured.
When there was no reply, she said his name louder and turned her head in the direction of the bathroom. But there was no sound of running water, no sound of movement of any kind. The door to the bathroom stood wide open and she could see from where she was that there was no one inside the small room.
An uneasiness whispered along the perimeter of her throbbing head.
The wine, she remembered. She'd had too much wine.
Sitting up, Katie quickly scanned the bedroom. He wasn't there. And neither, she realized when she glanced down at the floor right before the bed, were Blake's clothes.
Had he quietly slipped out of bed, not wanting to wake her, gotten dressed and gone down for breakfast?
Katie realized that as she formed the question, it was accompanied by a prayer. Because if Blake hadn't gone down for breakfast, and he wasn't here, that meant that he'd left.
Left.
Left without even saying goodbye.
She didn't like the sound of that. A chill came over her heart as she suddenly remembered that he had a ticket for a flight out of San Antonio. A flight to Atlanta. She knew this because, as his a.s.sistant, she was the one who had made the reservation for him.
Katie moved as quickly as a woman whose head bordered on exploding could and threw on the first clothes she got her hands on. For the moment forgetting about such niceties as brushing her teeth or combing her hair, and ignoring the fact that she was barefoot, she ran out into the hall and all but crashed into the housekeeper.
Juanita Ruiz, a heavyset, motherly looking woman, was carrying a breakfast tray before her and stopped short just before Wendy's door. Quick thinking had her moving the tray out of range and saving her employer's breakfast.
"Are you all right, Katie?" the woman asked, concerned.
Katie didn't bother answering the question. She needed one of her own answered.
"Is Wendy's brother in the kitchen?" she asked the woman, wishing with all her heart she didn't sound so needy. But now wasn't the time to worry about appearances, there was something far more important on her mind than the way she came across to Wendy's housekeeper.
Since Wendy had several brothers, the housekeeper needed to know which one she was referring to. Given that it was the youngest Mr. Fortune who came to pick up Katie every day, she honed in on him.
"Are you asking about Blake?" Juanita asked. "No, he has not come yet this morning." The housekeeper was accustomed to admitting Wendy's brother around eight-thirty every morning, when he came to pick Katie up to take her to Scott's house. "Perhaps he is running just a little late," she suggested.
"Or maybe he's just running," Katie said under her breath.
"Katie? Is that you standing out there in the hall?" Wendy called out as the housekeeper came in with her tray. "Come talk to me," she coaxed, beckoning for Katie to come into the room. She sounded even more restless than she had before she'd given birth. "The doctor said I needed to stay in bed for a few more days and if I go beyond the bathroom, Juanita tells on me," she said, nodding at the housekeeper.