She could hardly think of anyone but him at the moment. “I know.”
“You aren’t what I expected to find here,” he muttered, his lips hovering only a breath above hers.
; Her fingers flexed against the firm muscles of his upper arms. “What did you expect to find, Mac?”
“Myself,” he answered after the slightest hesitation. And then covered her mouth with his before she could ask him to elaborate.
This kiss was different, somehow. There was a new hint of masculine arrogance in his attitude—as if he’d won some sort of victory. She really should call him on it, remind him that nothing had been decided, no irreversible steps had been taken. She might even have convinced him of it—had she completely believed it, herself.
She slid both arms around his neck, allowing herself to sink against him. His right hand fell to the small of her back, pressing her more snugly against him, giving her unmistakable evidence of where he wanted the next step to take them. It had been building toward this from the start, the urgency intensifying with every kiss, every touch, almost every glance that passed between them.
As cautious as she had been during the past few years, every action deliberate and carefully considered, every potential consequence studied and weighed, she found it hard to believe that she was even considering a reckless fling with this man. She wouldn’t be acting on impulse, exactly. She knew precisely what she would be putting at stake—her heart, her reputation, her relationship with her brother. Even her professional status, since she would be getting involved with a client, which was never a prudent choice.
Yet when Mac held her this way, when he kissed her with a hunger that seemed at times to border on desperation, she found herself believing that no risk was too great. Being with Mac could well be reward enough for whatever price she might have to pay.
He slid his hand beneath her fitted top. His fingertips brushed against the frivolous scrap of black lace she wore underneath. A slight shudder went through her at the thought of having his hand against her sensitive bare skin.
Attuned to her reactions, he murmured against her mouth, “Am I frightening you?”
“No,” she managed to say candidly, though her mouth was dry and her heart seemed to be tap-dancing in her throat. “You’re seducing me.”
He gave a low groan and crushed her mouth beneath his again, pulling her so tightly against him that she was quite graphically convinced that she wasn’t the only one being seduced.
Long, heated moments later, he broke off the kiss with a gasp. “This wasn’t why I brought you here,” he groaned.
Distracted by the firm line of his jaw, she traced it with a fingertip. “Why did you bring me here?”
“To, uh…” He caught her wandering hand and pressed a kiss against it. “To talk.”
It occurred to her that she hadn’t seen him without a shirt. She didn’t know if his chest was smooth or furry. She would bet on smooth. Curious to discover if the bet would have paid off, she unfastened a button of his shirt. “What did you want to talk about?”
He seemed to hold a silent debate between several options, then apparently rejected them all. “Never mind,” he growled as she undid two more buttons.
She slid one hand slowly into the opening she’d made. Smooth, she thought. I win.
She rewarded herself by lifting her mouth to his again. As eagerly as he responded, he seemed to be under the impression that he had won something.
“Mac,” she murmured into his mouth, sensing a slight hesitation.
He caught her lower lip gently between his teeth. “Mmm?”
“I need to be back at work in another hour or so.”
His lips moved against her flushed cheek. “That doesn’t give us much time.”
“No,” she whispered, surprisingly bold. “So let’s not waste any of it.”
Moving with a speed that made her a bit dizzy, he swung her into his arms and began to move toward the bedroom. She laughed breathlessly, clinging to him as excitement and anticipation mingled with shivery trepidation. She knew this wasn’t a safe or sensible choice, but the woman Mac had dragged out of Snake Creek was much more adventurous than the old Sharon had been. She didn’t believe in wasting opportunities.
Mac had left his bed neatly made that morning. He tumbled with her onto the top of the covers, pushing pillows to the floor with a sweep of one arm. Sharon’s heart was beating so hard in her chest she was surprised it wasn’t shaking the bed. This was not what she’d expected when she’d dressed for work that morning. This wasn’t at all the sort of thing that ever happened in the middle of her workday.
Not that she was complaining, she decided as Mac’s mouth closed over hers again.
She felt a tremor in his hand when he fumbled with the buttons of her jacket. Muttering a curse beneath his breath, he tried again, having more success this time. She felt cool air on bare skin when he gave her an endearingly sheepish smile. “Sorry. I really wasn’t prepared for this.”
She had expected him to be smoother, more polished. It delighted her that he wasn’t. This glimpse of vulnerability made her even more certain that Mac Cordero was as special as she had come to believe.