It was his sister who finally opened the door, wrapped in a gray robe and nothing else, her eyes sleepy.
“Don’t you think you should ask who’s ringing the bell before you open the door dressed like that?” he growled in concern.
“Give me a break, Derek, I saw you through the peephole,” Connie returned crossly. “Besides, rapists don’t ring doorbells. They climb through windows.”
“Connie, that’s ridiculous.” He brushed past her. “Summer still in bed?”
“Yes, she is. And she’ll probably stay there until you leave.” Connie ran a hand through her tangled curls and yawned. “Why don’t you leave the poor girl alone, Derek? Stick to your campaign to reform me. I have to put up with you. You’re my brother.”
“Let’s you and I make a deal, Con,” Derek suggested casually. “You keep out of my affair with Summer, and I’ll stop giving you unwanted advice.”
Connie smiled brightly. “Hallelujah. Too bad you haven’t a prayer of having an affair with Summer, or I’d take you up on that very tempting offer.”
“I didn’t mean it quite that way, but don’t write me off yet. You never know what will happen.” He walked past her, moving in the direction of Summer’s closed bedroom door.
Connie frowned. “Derek…”
He glanced back without pausing. “Butt out, Connie.”
For the first time Connie noticed the way her brother was dressed, and her eyes widened. A brown leather bomber jacket, white knit pullover shirt, well-worn jeans and scuffed brown biker’s boots. Derek had come dressed for trouble.
Derek closed Summer’s door behind him and stood looking down at her for a long moment before approaching the bed. The doorbell hadn’t awakened her. She lay on her stomach, her head cradled on one arm, the other arm dangling off the side of the bed. The covers were tangled at her feet, and her legs were sprawled as carelessly as a child’s, the knit nightshirt she wore hiked up to reveal green-and-white-striped panties over a shapely tush. Derek fought down the impulse to jump on top of her and walked to the head of the bed, kicking aside the pillow on the floor. He knelt beside her, pushing a large stuffed bear out of the way, and examined the sleep-flushed face beneath the short, tousled golden-brown hair. The faintest purple rings under her long, closed lashes indicated that she hadn’t slept well. Had her rest been disturbed by thoughts of him?
God, she was lovely. His insides twisted with a desire so powerful that it rocked him back on his heels. He’d never wanted a woman this much in his life.
Very slowly he leaned forward until his lips just brushed a down-soft cheek. She tasted good. So very good. He touched his lips in a butterfly caress to the end of her adorably tilted nose. Her velvety eyelid received a fleeting salute before his roving mouth touched the corner of her slightly parted lips. Her breath was warm and soft against his skin, and he kissed her mouth again. She stirred, and the beginnings of a smile touched her face. “Derek,” she murmured without opening her eyes.
A wave of emotion surged through him, so intense that he nearly doubled over from the force of it. “Yes, Summer, it’s Derek,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.
Her smile deepened, her eyelashes fluttering on her cheeks. Blinking at the light, she squinted shyly up at him. “Hi, Derek,” she murmured, sleep still deepening her voice.
“Oh, God, Summer.” Unable to resist any longer, Derek leaned over the bed and took her in his arms, his mouth covering hers in a kiss that was as hungry as it was gentle. She made a sound like a purr deep in her throat and lifted her arms to slide them around his neck, her lips opening to his without hesitation. Derek knew she was still half-asleep but took full advantage of her momentary weakness as he lowered himself beside her and deepened the kiss.
Stretching like the cat whose purr she imitated, Summer snuggled into Derek’s embrace, luxuriating in his warmth and strength. His mouth moved against hers, his tongue stroking hers in a kiss that was even more beautiful than those that had haunted her dreams. Holding herself even closer to him, she silently begged for his touch. As if she’d moaned the request aloud, he gave her what she desired, his hand sliding across her back and around her waist to cup her breast. Summer whimpered and held him more tightly, arching into his palm. Derek lifted his head only to pull in a shuddering breath, then kissed her again. His hand moved feverishly over her scantily clad figure, discovering and stroking all her feminine secrets. Summer felt as if she were on fire. She wanted him. Oh, how she wanted him.
And then his hand moved over her hip and down her thigh, slipping behind her knee to lift her leg over his. Her right knee. She flinched as the mangled joint, always stiff in the morning, protested the movement with a twinge of pain.
Dismayed, she tore her mouth away from Derek’s and pushed against his chest, fully awake. “What the hell are you doing in my bedroom?” she said on a gasp, scooting back on the bed to put a safe distance between them.
Reluctantly acknowledging that the golden moment was over, Derek made no effort to detain her but lifted himself slowly onto his elbow, looking at her with a rueful smile. “I would think the answer to that question is obvious,” he told her huskily.
“You came here to seduce me?” she demanded, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. “In my own bedroom?”
Something about the outraged question struck him as funny, and he chuckled. Then, as her eyes narrowed in sudden fury, he realized that laughter was not exactly the most tactful response to this particular situation. “I only came in here to wake you,” he assured her gravely, pushing himself upright to stand beside the bed, easing his hands into the pockets of his painfully tight jeans as he did so. “I’ll admit that things got a little out of control, but I’m certainly not apologizing. I thought it was fantastic. You were enjoying it, too. Admit it.”
“I was asleep!” she protested, pushing her bangs out of her eyes with a trembling hand.
“You knew what you were doing,” he answered relentlessly. “You called me by name.”
Flushing vividly, she dropped her eyes from his, frowning as she took in his casual attire. “Your clothes.”
“What about them?”
“They make you look… different.”
“You asked me if I own a pair of jeans. You see now that I do.”
Thoroughly disoriented, Summer shook her head as if clearing the last vestiges of sleep, then glared at him. “What are you doing in my bedroom?” she asked again.