Alex Spalding looked up at the terminal video feeds with the departure times for the morning. The moment he found his flight to Los Angeles, the "on time" designation changed to "delayed." He cursed under his breath. Not again. He couldn't be late today. Not today. Too much depended on this trip. He'd tried to get out last night, but the weather in Chicago had made that impossible. This morning's forecaster had guaranteed clear travel. He'd lied.
As Alex headed toward his gate, he debated calling his cousin. Barbara would be worried, and that's the last thing she needed so close to her wedding. She could send someone else to get the flowers if he was too late for the dinner. It would be fine.…
He could almost hear her sighing in resignation — same old Alex.
No. He'd wait. There was still a chance he could make it. He needed this. Not about the flowers, that wasn't it. He needed to show Barbara that he'd changed. Show Dana…
At the thought of Dana, he found his chest tightening, a slight stir in his loins. The reaction wasn't surprising. He may not have seen her for a year, but she still made him ache with want.
He found an empty seat in the boarding area. Positioning his suitcase next to his right leg, he settled in for the long wait. His gaze brushed past a woman with auburn hair of a certain shade. It wasn't Dana, of course.
He wondered about her hair. Would it still fall gently on her shoulders? So shiny and silky soft that he couldn't keep from touching it? Delayed flights forgotten, he slid back in his seat and closed his eyes. It was easier to see her that way. And see her he did.
Like always, she started out with clothes on. Underwear counted as clothes, right? She'd had this black bra and panties that drove him wild. She'd wear them under her sedate, conservative business suits, and by the time they'd gotten to his place or hers, he'd be a madman. He'd ask her to strip for him, and she would. Dana knew how to tease.
He shifted on his seat. Maybe thinking about her wasn't such a smart idea. He had a long day ahead. It was bad enough to be stuck in an airport and an airplane. The best thing was to think of other things.
Right.
As if he'd ever been able to banish thoughts of her at will. Once he started thinking about her, it was all over but the credits. She lived in his mind's eye, and that was a blessing and a curse.
He had no business thinking he could fix things between them. She'd banished him for his trespasses, and he didn't blame her. He'd been a fool.
He wasn't a fool anymore. He'd changed. All he had to do now was convince Dana.…
But she wasn't going to listen without a struggle. A slow smile formed. How she did struggle… He'd have one chance. One opportunity to win her back. When it came to passion, Alex could win Dana over every time.
He needed to make love to her. Maybe then he could win her back.
Dana Groves waited for the light to change at the corner of Little Santa Monica and Wilshire. She was on the early side, so why was she so tense?
She laughed at her own foolishness. Her anxiety had nothing to do with Barbara's rehearsal dinner in town tonight, and everything to do with Alex. He might be here already, although that wasn't likely. In fact, she'd bet the farm he'd been delayed. Just like he was always delayed.
As the light turned and she inched along with the rush-hour traffic, she remembered another sunny day, much like this one. Her parents had come to visit from Michigan, and she'd taken them to Jimmie's for dinner, and to meet Alex. The man she'd intended to marry. He'd finally called when they were eating dessert. So sorry. Unavoidable. He'd make up for it. But he was always sorry. It was always unavoidable. And he never made up for it.
She took the next right and headed back toward Wilshire. Dammit. She was going to fix it for him again. She just had time to swing by the florist, get the flowers to Barbara, and get to the dinner on time.
She sighed as she drove, wondering for the millionth time why it had to be this way. Alex was everything she'd ever wanted in a partner — kind, gorgeous, funny, smart — except for his complete and utter lack of responsibility. It had been charming at first. Then it had become a problem. Finally, it had been the end of them.
Her decision to break up with him had been the right one. So why was it that a year later she still thought about him every day? Why was it that every man she met paled in comparison? And why in heaven's name did the mere mention of his name flood her with desire?
As if on cue, she felt a small tremor hit her in the stomach, and lower still. At the mere thought of Alex — his green eyes gazing into hers, the touch of his hand — her heart beat a little faster, her blood ran a little hotter. He'd taken her places she'd never dreamed of going. Alex knew things about her she hadn't known about herself. He'd stretched her limits, shocked her with her willingness to go where he led, even when it was a place nice girls dared not enter.
Even now, a year later, she craved his touch, his lips, his hard length. What he did to her…
But more than that, she missed their closeness, their intimacy. The way he'd cuddle her close after making love, whispering sweet nothings in her ear… No one had ever made her feel as loved, as wanted as Alex had.
In the end, it hadn't been enough. She couldn't count on him. He'd disappointed her one too many times.
What a waste.
The next few days were going to be difficult. It would be so easy to fall back into her old patterns. To let her desire overrule her good sense. All she had to do was make sure they were never alone.
She pulled up to the florist shop, glanced at her watch, and saw she could still pull this off. That is, until she saw the Closed sign hanging on the wall. But the door was open, so there was still a chance. Or perhaps the door was open because there was a customer inside. Her heart rate accelerated. She couldn't quite catch her breath. He might be behind those flowers, behind that door.
What was she thinking? Of course, Alex was nowhere to be found. Then again, neither were any of the shop employees.
"Hello?"
Nothing. She went to the desk, looking for a bell. Nope. She headed for the back of the building, her adrenaline still pumping, but not because of Alex. She didn't have much time left. Unlike certain people she knew, she took her responsibilities seriously. She was never late.
"Hello?"
She stuck her head into one of the back rooms. It was empty. There was still one place she hadn't looked. Well, two, if they had a rest room. She hurried to a thick, heavy door and pushed it open. Cold hit her in the face, but the seductive scent of hundreds of flowers softened the blow.
It was the storage room, and there were literally stacks and stacks of gorgeous, fresh flowers, everything from tulips to mums to the most gorgeous roses she'd ever seen. Unfortunately, the flowers were unattended. She looked behind crates to no avail. Whoever worked here must be in the john.
She headed to the door, but a muffled male voice made her stop in her tracks. She knew that voice. Too well.
Alex.
Oh, God. Not now. Not here.
She heard his footsteps approach and darted behind a stack of crates. Where was the flower guy? Alex didn't have much time. He needed to get the flowers and go. Then she could race to Barbara's dinner, and all would be well. Later tonight, she could think about her reaction. Her fluttering heart. The heat flooding her insides.
"Hello?"
Dana froze. Unfortunately, it wasn't just a figure of speech. The room was freezing, and she had to force herself to stop her teeth from chattering. Her situation went from bad to worse as Alex walked into the cooler.
She couldn't see all of him, but what she saw was enough. Shoulders nearly as wide as the door frame. Dark, slightly wavy hair a little too long over the collar. Slender hips, long legs and, look at that, his suitcase. He'd cut it close. He must have come straight from the airport. Leave it to Alex.
"Hey, is anyone here?"
She closed her eyes, concentrating on keeping herself warm. So what if he was just a few feet away. It didn't matter that her heart was beating so hard she thought she might die. Or that the longing for him was so deep she hardly knew how to breathe. Alex wasn't good for her. He wasn't. She was so much better off without him. She had to remember that.
"Dammit."
She opened her eyes and saw him look at his watch. Alex started walking down one of the aisles, and she squeezed herself deeper into the corner. If he came this way, he'd see her. And how was she going to explain herself?
She prayed for the flower person to show up. And her prayers were answered — sort of. She heard a heavy door slam and the room was plunged into darkness. She couldn't see the door from where she was, but Alex's "Hey!" told her all she needed to know. His footsteps raced across the concrete floor, and then he was banging on the door with both fists.
A light came on dimly, then another. Dana closed her eyes and crossed her fingers — all of them. "Please," she whispered, "hear him. Open the door."
But after a minute…two minutes…the door remained closed.
The flower guy would come back. Of course he would. She winced as she realized her phone was in her car, but perhaps there was one in here. Surely they wouldn't be trapped for long.
She was in the one position she'd most wanted to avoid. The most dangerous situation she could have imagined.
She was alone with Alex.
If he found her, and if the flower guy didn't come back damn soon, she'd be in the kind of trouble that had repercussions from here to next year. Because she couldn't resist him. She'd never been able to. The moment he touched her, she was putty in his hands.
She wrapped her arms around her chest as she heard his footfalls on the other side of the room. He must be looking for a way out, a phone, perhaps, or a loading dock.
Her eyes fluttered closed as memories warmed her. Alex on top, his gaze burning into her own as he took his long, slow time. Making her crazy. Sending her right over the edge.
Alex underneath her as she rode him, as his hips thrust up to meet her rhythm, as his fingers moved to her nipples…
She held back a groan. Squeezed her thighs together trying to ease the ache. He was so bad for her because he was so very, very good.
Mentally shaking herself and her foolish thoughts, she opened her eyes. And looked straight into the deep emerald gaze of her former fiancé.
It was her. Not a dream, not a wish. Dana.
Alex let his pent-up breath go as he greedily took in her perfect face. She'd changed in the past year, but only in the smallest of details. Her eyes seemed larger somehow, or was that just because she was shocked to find him a rose-width away?
"Alex."
A blush pinked her cheeks, a sight he'd seen a hundred times before but that never ceased to make him smile. "Hi, beautiful."
"I didn't expect you —"
"I thought you would be at Barbara's dinner already."
"I would be, but —" she looked at her watch and bit off a quiet curse. "Tell me you have a phone with you."
He winced, wishing he had better news for her. "My cell got run over by a taxi on 42nd Street. I haven't had time to get a new one."
"Damn." Her gaze met his again, and the blush deepened. "You look...good."
"You look…" He struggled with his words. Beautiful? Of course. Like the woman of his dreams? No, that would scare the hell out of her. Good enough to eat? Ditto. "Wonderful."
Alex reached out, the back of his hand brushing through the hair above Dana's left ear. It was silky and thick, falling softly through his fingers. He only had a split second to register the fact before Dana jerked back and away.
"What are you doing?"
Alex watched the quick flow of emotions on her face, the interplay of anger and doubt, and yes, of want. That same need that kept him awake at night was there in her hazel eyes.
She shifted her gaze, but it was too late. He'd seen what he needed to. It didn't mean she was going to fall at his feet. Forgive him. Not yet. But now he knew his plan had a shot. Once he reminded her what it was like between them, she'd be his. And once she'd seen for herself how he'd changed, she'd be his forever.
She shivered visibly. "It's freezing in here." Stepping around the pallet of roses, she headed for the heavy door. "We're late. We have to get out of here."
"Surprised you, didn't I?"
She stopped next to a crate of bloodred tulips and turned to look at him. "Yes. Although, not much. You certainly didn't give yourself time to maneuver. Barbara's rehearsal dinner will be starting any minute now."
He just nodded, accepting the rebuke. It wasn't going to help his cause to tell her that he'd tried his best to be here hours ago, that he planned to pick up the flowers and deliver them to the dinner with plenty of time to spare. She was angry. She had a right to be. Winning her trust wouldn't happen right away. Luckily, as long as they were trapped together, time was on his side.
She was already at the door, but he knew that exit was out. He'd done a perimeter search of the room. There was only one other exit — the freight bay — and that was locked, too. There was no phone, either. However, he had seen a thermostat. No need for them to freeze to death. Although, perhaps a bit of a chill wouldn't be out of line. As she ended her struggles with the door, he adjusted the thermostat to a warmer temperature, then headed toward her.
"Don't tell me," she said.
He shrugged.
Her eyes closed and she shivered again. He took her hand and led her over to where he'd set down his suitcase. "Hold on." He pulled out his bathrobe. It was white and thick and while it wasn't an overcoat, it would help. He stepped over to Dana and put it on her shoulders. "It'll get warmer in a bit. You'll be okay." His hands lingered on her shoulders, and he brushed the side of her neck with the pad of his fingertip.
She trembled, and he knew it wasn't because of the cold.
He bent his head until his lips felt the tickle of her hair. "Dana," he whispered. "My God, I've missed you."
Her head went back, baring her throat to his gaze. He wanted to taste her, to lick the skin right there at the hollow of her throat, and then move up inch by inch until he found her lips.
As if she'd read his thoughts, she straightened her head and stepped away out of his reach. But she couldn't hide her blush, or why she pulled the robe tighter around her.
He couldn't see through the heavy terry cloth, but he knew her nipples were hard. He'd memorized her body, her reactions, and all through the past year, he'd played his mental tapes over and over again, torturing himself, berating himself for his past behavior toward her. But he'd also changed. He'd matured. He'd become the man Dana deserved.
She cleared her throat. "What about you?"
"What?"
"Just because you're a man doesn't mean you don't feel the cold."
He'd thought she'd meant… "I've got another sweater in my suitcase."
"Well, put it on before you freeze to death."
"Sure," he said, stepping back before he couldn't stop himself from taking her. "All right." Thoughts of Dana were keeping him warm enough for now, but he couldn't let her know that — yet.
As soon as his back was turned, Dana closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. She remembered this robe. It had been a gift from her on Valentine's Day two years ago. She rubbed her hands down the thick Egyptian cotton even as she fought against her emotions.
She couldn't let him know how just seeing him had turned her inside out. No man had ever made her feel more alive, more loved, than Alex. But no man had ever made her more angry, either.
She had to remember what it had felt like when he didn't show up time and again. When he forgot to call. She had to remember how she'd forgiven him over and over, seduced by his charm, his loving smile, and his devil's touch.
Her gaze went back to him as he pulled a dark green cable-knit sweater over his head. Why did he have to be so gorgeous? His hair framed a face of sharp angles and soft curves. His strong chin and his soft, not too thin lips. His dark brows over the startling green eyes. That wasn't the least bit fair. And why did she have to ache for him, after all this time?
She shoved her hands into the robe pockets. Something touched her left hand, something small and sharp. She pulled it out, and gasped.
Dana studied the picture she'd found in his pocket. It was of her, and although she'd never seen this particular photo, she knew exactly when it had been taken.
Alex had gotten the camera as a gift from his mother, who would have been shocked to know how he'd used it. They'd been at his place, and he'd given her a present even though it was his birthday. When she'd seen the tiny scraps of material in the box, she'd laughed. The peekaboo bra and G-string might have been for her, but he was the one who'd enjoyed the gift most. She'd changed in the bathroom, donned her high heels, put on dark red lipstick. When she'd walked into the bedroom, he'd taken her picture. After that, it was all pleasure. For hours and hours until they were both wrung dry.
The picture in her hand had been cropped so just her head and shoulders were visible, but the intimacy was still there. And she knew that every time he looked at it, he remembered the rest of her body, and the things they'd done that night.
She held out the photo. "Do you think this is a good idea?"
He didn't even look at her hand. "I don't want to forget."
"Alex, you and I both know —"
"We both know what happened that night," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper as he took slow, measured steps toward her. "We both know what we did to each other. How you screamed my name. How I thought I would die from wanting you, loving you. It would have been worth it, Dana. Dying like that. Better than this purgatory —"
"Stop it. I don't want to talk about it."
He kept on walking, forcing her back until she was stopped by the concrete wall. She wanted to push him away, to tell him that she was over him, that she'd moved on, but when she tried to speak, she couldn't remember how.
He stared at her with those eyes. She should look away, hide, because he had always seen too much. Seen right into the very core of her, where all her secrets lived. He'd found embers there of hidden desires, and he'd stoked the flames until she became the fire, until she burned with a passion that couldn't be put out.
That was the problem. The flame had never died. It was still inside her, and he knew that. She closed her eyes, but it was too late.
"Dana," he whispered. "It's all right. This is meant to be."
She shook her head. "I can't."
"Can't what?"
"Let myself get into this with you." She managed to put her hand on his chest. "Not again."
"Do you think if we don't admit our feelings, they'll just go away?"
"They have."
"Dana, look at me."
"No."
"Dana," he said, his voice soft yet firm and compelling. She'd never been able to resist him when he spoke to her like that. Maybe this time, she'd be strong. She wouldn't meet his gaze. She wouldn't be caught in his spell.
Then his cool fingers touched her under her chin and the next moment, she was caught in the spell of his gaze. Something shifted inside her. Heat, tension, need — all of that, and so much more.
He leaned forward, his lips not quite touching hers. "Dana."
His hand went to the back of her neck, his fingers tracing delicate lines, making her whole body quiver. She understood the gesture, the way he feathered her flesh, and she couldn't stop thinking about how it felt when he did that to other parts of her body.
Of course, that was his intention. He was pulling out all the stops to remind her of the old days. If she had any brain at all, she'd stop this right here, right now. Stick to her guns and not let his fingers, his lips, turn her on like a light switch.
"Dana," he said again, in that soft, low voice.
"No, Alex."
"No? Not even this?" He moved that last inch and brushed against her lips. Warm and velvet-soft, he kept the kiss chaste, giving her time to adjust to the feel of him, the idea of him. All of her focus was on her mouth, and where he touched it.
Finally, he deepened the kiss. His lips slanted and opened against hers, just the tip of his tongue slipping into her mouth. He shifted a little and drew in her lower lip, nibbling it gently before finally urging her teeth to part, only to plunge deeply, teasing her tongue with his own.
It was hot and silky and melting and she knew the exact moment when the kiss changed, turned into an unmistakably carnal exploration that caused slow heat to pool and her breath to quicken in her throat.
She moaned as his fingertips caressed the nape of her neck in counterpoint to the increasingly ardent strokes of his tongue.
It was important to stop him. Crucial. Only…only she couldn't quite remember why.
Alex was in trouble. Deep trouble. He'd waited so long to taste her, to hold her, he'd wanted her with such intensity, he was afraid he wouldn't be able to stop before he could tell her —show her —how he'd changed.
He reluctantly pulled back. There was something much more urgent at stake than his need — the rest of his life. He had a game plan. Now wasn't the time to blow it. His job was to make her remember. Make her feel everything he felt. To make her willing to give him another chance. She was the important one, not him.
But then he looked into her gaze. Only a small circle of hazel peeked out around her dilated pupils. Her ragged breath drew his eyes to her lips. Her parted, pink, slightly swollen lips.
"Oh, hell," he said, as he leaned into her once more. There was no teasing this time. He opened her lips and thrust into her with slow, deep strokes of his tongue.
No longer satisfied with gentle caresses, his fingers slid into the silk of her hair and he took hold of her, pulling her head back slightly, getting the perfect angle.
She moaned again. He held her steady while he left the warmth of her mouth to nuzzle the curve of her cheekbone, to run his tongue in the shell of her ear, but her mouth called him back, and he was helpless to disobey.
Just before his lips touched hers, she whispered, "Alex," and he almost forgot how to breathe.
Just hearing that breathy whisper made him hard. No, he'd been hard a moment ago. Now he was aching in a way that might kill him. He didn't care. Death like this wouldn't be so bad. Not in her arms.
Without his consent, his hips rubbed against her. He wasn't sure if it was to get some relief from the pressure, or to show her what she did to him. How she made him insane. God, how had he gone a year without her? How had he gone a day?
He pulled away sharply, cursing himself for a fool. He'd almost done it. He'd almost lost it.
He released her hair and stepped back a pace. For a long moment, the only sound was hitched breathing as they both attempted to calm down. He watched her, waiting to see what she would do when she regained her senses.
Perhaps he shouldn't have backed away. Given her a chance to think. Dammit, this wasn't going according to his script. He'd thought so much about this weekend, but never in his wildest dreams did he believe he'd have her to himself like this.
When she finally looked at him, confusion clouded her gaze. God, she was so beautiful with her slightly swollen lips, with the flush coloring her cheeks, with the question in her eyes. He forced himself to stay still. To wait.
She shook her head slowly, then her gaze moved down to his chest, his waist, and rested at the obvious strain of his jeans.
Sighing, she leaned against the wall behind her and closed her eyes. "What's wrong with me?"
"What do you mean?"
"I know better than to let you touch me. I know where it leads. I'm done with that, Alex. I mean it."
"But…?"
She pushed off from the wall, walked over to a crate of irises, her back to him. "But nothing."
"Hey, it's me, remember?"
"That's the whole problem. It's you." She turned to face him again. "And when you touch me…"
He smiled as he took one step toward her. "And when I touch you…?"
She didn't finish her thought. Instead, she walked away, hiding behind his robe. He wasn't worried, though. He knew just how to make her talk.
Why had she come here? Dana thought ruefully. In the history of her mistakes, this had to be in the top five. And why in hell had the flower guy locked them in? She should sue. She should find the fire alarm and pull it. She should…
Stay away from Alex.
The kiss had awakened her like Sleeping Beauty, only her curse was the prince. Her traitorous body had come alive with the first touch of his lips, and if he'd pressed her, she would have surrendered.
She suddenly found herself at the far end of the refrigerated space, staring unseeing at the loading-dock door. He hadn't pressed her. In fact, he was the one who'd stepped away.
That made no sense. The Alex she knew had never missed an opportunity to make love. But more than that, he never missed a chance to put his needs first, ahead of hers — whether it meant satisfying his physical desire before her own or standing her up when he felt like it. Or convincing her to make love despite any doubts she might have. And he had an uncanny ability to sway her to his way of thinking. So why had he put the brakes on?
She turned around. Alex was half-hidden by flowers, busy with something she couldn't see. The visible part of him was his backside and his legs, although she didn't particularly care about his legs.
The man had an absolutely perfect behind. It had been a year since she'd been intimate with him, and yet if she closed her eyes and focused, she could still remember the exact sensation of running her palms over the firm flesh.
Stop it. Thinking about that was only going to get her in trouble. She loved him, and probably always would. She'd remember their intimacies forever. But if she let her guard down now, she was going to find herself knee-deep in remorse. For heaven's sake, he couldn't even manage to pick up the flowers for his cousin's rehearsal dinner.
He'd pulled back.
He could have pressed his advantage. He absolutely knew he had her. He always could read her like a book. It was some sort of sixth sense with him. She doubted that skill had diminished over time.
So, why hadn't he seduced her? He'd claimed to have changed, but come on. People don't change. Men, especially, don't change. Alex was Alex. The charming rogue, the devil in blue jeans, Peter Pan.
They were oil and water, and the only time they blended was when they were in bed. Dammit, she had dreams. Her own antique store. Marriage. Children. Alex had made it clear to her through his past actions that dependability wasn't something he had to offer. And it was something she needed. For her, it was a necessity. Peter Pan wouldn't cut it.
Just then, he straightened and looked her way. His gaze held her even from this distance. She felt the pull to go to him, and that was yet another reason she had to be strong.
If only the chemistry between them wasn't so fierce. She was like a moth to a flame where he was concerned, and that was the whole problem. In the three years they'd been together, she'd only been able to resist him once. That last time. When she'd said goodbye.
"Dana," he said.
She forced herself to stay where she was. "Yes?"
"We need to talk."
"Go ahead. I can hear you."
He smiled wryly. "Are you that afraid to get close to me?"
She nodded, not bothering with a pretense.
"Why?"
"You know exactly why. I have to be strong, and I can't do that if we're too close."
"And this strength. What will it get you?"
She straightened her back. "I have my own dreams and plans, Alex. I want to get married and have kids. I've saved almost half the money I need to —"
"Open the antique store?" he finished for her.
"Yes."
"You think I'm a threat to that? To your dreams?"
She exhaled, her momentary bravado gone. "God, yes."
"Because I'll disappoint you." It wasn't a question.
"Yes. I know I can't count on you, Alex."
"Can you think of any reason I might have changed?"
Her lips curved in a half smile. "The only time a woman can change a man is when he's in diapers."
He didn't laugh. In fact, his expression turned serious. "I don't believe that."
"I don't have a reason not to."
He walked toward her, stopping in front of a cascade of yellow roses. "I've learned a thing or two in the past year." His voice had lowered so that she had to strain to hear him. "I've learned that there are things in this world that are worth changing for."
"Like what?"
Alex pinned her with his gaze. The look in his eyes was like nothing she'd seen before.
"Dana, I've done a lot of thinking…. About us. About the way it ended, the way I behaved…" His expression softened.
"If you had any idea how much I've missed you… Not just the sex," he added hastily, "although that's part of it — I miss the times we had together. I miss our talks. I always felt that I could open up to you…." Alex ran his fingers through his hair. "Oh, hell. You know I'm no good with words."
Inside her, in the place she'd tried hard to ignore for a year, sand shifted. The landscape changed. Not a lot. But it did shift. Was it possible that he had changed?
"Dana —"
She took another step toward him. "Yes?"
"I —"
Before she knew what was happening, he'd closed the distance between them. His hands curled around her upper arms and brought her close. His eyes shimmered with the kind of passion she'd only seen in his bed.
His gaze moved over her face, quickly, rapid-fire, darting from her eyes to her nose to her chin, to her lips. "People change," he said. "Given the right reasons."
"What reasons?"
He pulled her closer, forcing their bodies together from waist to knee.
"Don't you know?" he asked, his voice thick with emotion. "Do you need me to spell it out?"
She closed her eyes and nodded. "I need you to say it all. And I need you to make me believe it."
What Alex needed Dana to believe had nothing to do with words. She already had her own ideas of who he was, and who he would always be. If he tried to convince her with words, she'd dismiss him, rationalize her feelings toward him, and they'd be right back where they'd started. And ended.
He'd planned this weekend as if it were a matter of life and death, and he wasn't about to improvise now. Dana was doing too much thinking and not enough feeling. He had to get past her logic, get to the wildness inside her. He had to unleash her from her inhibitions. Then, and only then, would she agree they belonged together.
"Come with me," he said, maneuvering his arm around her shoulders and leading her to an area he'd cleared a few minutes before. There had been a movers cushion, ugly but useful, and good protection from the cold of the concrete floor. The air had lost its bite, and while it was still cool, there was no danger, even if they had to spend the night.
She stopped when she saw the pad on the floor, and a moment later she had slipped out from under his arm. "Not a chance."
"You're planning on standing all night?"
Her gaze jerked to his. "We won't be here all night."
"How do you know? Who's going to come back to a flower shop in the middle of the night?"
Dana's eyebrows came down, and she leaned against the wall as she thought about her predicament — trapped overnight with her former lover.
Before the night was over, Alex vowed, they'd be lovers again.
With her shoulders curved forward and her head bowed, she seemed very small, very frightened. He wanted to comfort her. And he would. He needed to proceed cautiously, however. This was going to be tricky.
For the moment, he was satisfied to drink in the sight of her. He hadn't allowed himself the luxury before this. Underneath his robe, she wore a suit he'd never seen. It was conservative, with a skirt that almost came to her knees, a shimmery peach top, and a jacket. He'd seen her in similar outfits a hundred times.
The question was what did she have on underneath that suit? When she'd been his, she'd driven him crazy with her underwear. Never, not once in the entire time he'd known her, had she settled for a common bra, utilitarian panties.
With Dana, it was silk and satin all the way. Luxury, seduction, sensuality next to her skin, hidden from view…at least from the rest of the world.
It was that part of her that made him sure his plan would work. The part of her that knew how to let go, to abandon herself to pleasure. If she would abandon herself to him one more time, he felt sure she would open up and trust him again.
She was looking at him. She'd straightened, and let her hands go to her sides. Damn but she killed him with her beauty. Her smooth skin, her lush curved lips. He loved that her nose was a little crooked. She'd wanted to get it fixed, but he'd convinced her long ago that it was part of her that was unique and special. That it made her more beautiful than simple perfection would have.
He walked over to his suitcase and unzipped the outside pocket. The water bottle he'd bought in New York was three-quarters full, and next to it, his bag of trail mix hadn't been touched. At least they wouldn't go hungry.
With his gifts in hand, he went to her. "Here," he said, handing her the bottle. "Have some. You're probably thirsty."
"Thank you." She took the water and for the next few seconds, he was dazzled by her lips and the stretch of her neck, and the way her eyelashes fanned out over the tops of her cheeks.
It was all he could do to keep his hands to himself. Torture. To be so close, and not to touch.
She handed him the bottle, but water wasn't what he thirsted for. He put it down. Then he stepped in front of her and narrowed the gap between them.
"What are you —"
He kissed her question away, tasting the cool water on her lips. Her hands went to his chest, but she didn't push him away. Before she had a chance to change her mind, he captured her wrists. So small. He brought her right hand to his lips, kissing the delicate flesh as he breathed in her perfume. Despite the flowers surrounding them, he could still smell Dana, and it was almost too much.
"I don't think…" she began.
"Yes," he murmured. "Don't think. Just remember."
He pulled her wrists up and out as he leaned into her, as he spread her hands on the wall on either side of her head. He slipped his fingers between hers, holding her gently enough not to rub against the concrete, firmly enough to hold her still.
He felt her warm breath on his neck as she struggled for control. That was the last thing he wanted her to have. This wasn't about rational thinking or safety. It was about sorcery and wicked magic and all the rest of their nights together.
Closing his eyes, he brought his lips to her ear, close enough that he could have nipped the lobe if he chose to.
"I've dreamed of you naked," he whispered, fighting for his own control. The need for her was so great, so demanding that he wondered if his body could take it. He must. If there was any chance at all.
"I've dreamed of you in my bed. What it was like between us. Your tears dripping down your cheeks, mingling with your sweat. I can taste you even now, salty and wet."
He moved his hips slightly, so they barely touched. "How long has it been since someone's made love to you like that, Dana?"
As he forced himself to stay perfectly still, he felt it. Her hips against his. Softly at first, then more insistently. It was all he could do not to give in to the desire and pull her to the ground and cover her body with his. This time he needed to keep control while Dana surrendered to the desire.
"I know your secrets," he went on, his voice shaking with tension. "Where you like me to kiss you. Where you like to kiss me."
He let go of her left hand and trailed his fingers down her side, over the thick robe. "I remember everything.…" He skimmed a hand over the curve of her breast, along her waist, over her hips. It was too much having her so close, smelling her; he needed to touch bare skin.…
Unable to resist, he dipped his hand lower, found the bottom of her skirt and slid underneath, feeling the silk of her hose.
Then he touched her flesh. Warm, familiar, softer than his dreams, he moaned as he inched up to that luscious curve. He ran one finger along the line of skin, moving closer to her inner thigh, to the hot, wet center of her pleasure.
And when he paused, just shy, she cried out his name. It was like hearing the answer to his prayers. But he couldn't stop now. She was close, so close to giving in. To willingness.
"Tell me what you want, Dana," he said, touching the curve of her ear with his lips. "Tell me, and I'll do whatever you say."
She inhaled sharply, and for a long, aching minute, they were perfectly still, anticipation making the air shimmer.
The seconds felt as long as the time he had been away from her, then she raised her passion-filled gaze to his face. When she licked her bottom lip, he groaned but he didn't move. She needed to say the words.…
Dana shook her head. "This is wrong, but I want you.…"
How could she still want him after he'd broken her heart?
Dana knew she should stop Alex, but she was weak. She'd used up all her resources in trying to build a new life without Alex. Now that he was back, she couldn't resist him. Couldn't resist them.
Instead, for the first time in a year, she let herself feel. His fingers were touching her inner thigh, teasing her with soft strokes, sending electric pulses that short-circuited her higher brain functions.
Her lips brushed his ear, and she couldn't stop herself from tasting him; a quick swipe of her tongue along the outer shell. When he groaned, she thought surely he would move his fingers higher, but he didn't. He didn't press himself against her; instead he waited. What did he want from her?
She was becoming desperate. As much as she tried to deny it, physically they were perfect together. She'd been built to fit, custom made for his hands, his mouth, his hard length.
"I know your secrets, too," she whispered. "I know how you struggle to keep your eyes open, even when you want to disappear inside me. I know the sounds you make when we make love."
He moved his head and kissed her once more. Kissed her as if it was the end of the world, or maybe the beginning.
She wanted him with more than her body. He was the part of her that had been missing. Even as her willpower diminished, she knew loving Alex was a mistake. She pulled back, away from his soul-searing kiss.
"Alex," she said, her voice more breath than substance. "It was never about this. I know how to make love to you, but I don't know how to make you understand what was wrong between us. I can't rely on you. It's more than you being late and forgetting to call. It's where I fit into your priorities. What if we had a child? How do I know I can depend on you to look after the child when you can't make the same promise to me? I don't want the father of my children to miss all the important events in their lives."
He met and held her gaze, his green eyes burning with guilt. But as she watched, something pushed away the guilt. Something alive. Determination, but not like she'd ever seen before.
"I'm not the man who hurt you. I know you can't accept that now, but given time… Everything has changed," he said. "The moment I left you, I realized what a fool I'd been. I cursed myself every day for having the moon, then throwing it away. This isn't just about sex. We're not just about sex. But making love to you is the only way I know to…"
He opened his mouth to say more, but no words came. Instead, she felt his fingers move that last distance, till he touched the lips of her sex, and if he hadn't been holding her up, she would have fallen. He stroked her there, softly, as if she were infinitely fragile, all the while forcing her to look at him, to look into him.
"You're the reason I'm here," he said, his voice so gruff it was almost a growl. "The reason I'm alive. You're everything I've ever wanted, and so much more than I deserve. I know that now. Let me show you how much I've learned, Dana. Don't reject me. Please."
He moved his hips against her, his erection hot and thick, while he slipped his fingers inside her. It was too much, more than her body was equipped to handle. She tried to move away, but somehow, she ended up rubbing against him.
He pulsed his fingers into her, sighing, his lower lip trembling. "Hot," he whispered. "So hot. So wet."
She wanted him. Almost as much as she wanted to believe him. If it were true, if he had changed…
He moved his arm, and then his hand, and he was rubbing her in delicate, tiny circles over her most sensitive flesh. She cried out, closed her eyes. Wallowed in the sinful pleasure. He did know her secrets. He touched her in a way that had made her give up all pretense, all inhibitions. In his arms she was wild, hungry, demanding.
"Listen to me," he said desperately. "I know how to make love to you because I paid attention. I learned you, like a man masters a violin. I studied you with every ounce of concentration. Nothing went by me. You know that."
She nodded. At least she was pretty sure she nodded.
"But it isn't enough. I want to know more than what happens when I do this."
She cried out as his fingers changed angles. It wasn't a big move, but it made her tremble from head to toe. She couldn't speak. She could hardly breathe. But she heard his urgent words.
"I want to love you in every way possible. For the rest of our lives. I want to learn what makes you happy. Forget how to make you sad. I want to build a life with you. A future. I want memories upon memories. Of you. Of us. You have to believe me, Dana."
Her muscles tensed, from her calves to her neck. If he didn't stop, she was going to lose control. The temptation was to ride it through. Let him bring her to a climax, and then talk later.
But she knew herself too well to let that happen. "Stop. Stop now. Stop or I'll never trust you again."
He pulled away from her, leaving her empty and aching.
She could feel his frustration, see the tension cord in his body. She wasn't much better. Every nerve ending begged her to go to him, to let him take her to climax.
"Alex," she said.
"Not yet. Please."
She nodded, using the next few moments to pull herself together. So much was at stake here. Their future. Children. Their very lives. She had to be rational. But when he touched her…
He looked around, found the water bottle. He offered it to her, but she shook her head. He drank, her gaze moving to his throat, to his Adam's apple. Another tremor shook her. She had to press herself against the wall not to run to him.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his arm. Then he dropped the bottle again. The sound was loud in the small room.
"I want to believe you," she whispered.
"But?"
"I'm afraid."
"Why?"
"You're the only person in the world who knows how hard it was to say goodbye the first time. I might not have the strength to do it again."
He turned on her. "You won't have to."
She sighed. "Alex, you didn't even make it back for the wedding in time to get the flowers. I know it's a small thing…but these small things add up. How are you different from when you left?"
He stared at her, pleading. "You don't know…"
"What don't I know? That you had a perfectly good reason for getting here late? That it was someone else's fault? That you had every intention of being here on time?"
He stared at her for a dozen heartbeats. Long enough for her to wonder what he saw when he looked into her eyes. Did he see her doubt? Her hope?
Was there a real chance that Alex had changed?
She had her answer when his mouth curved in a sly smile.…
Alex didn't say a word. He simply turned his back on Dana, and walked over to the mat he'd laid on the concrete.
She'd always loved the way he moved. Smooth, completely sure of himself. Proud of his strength and his control.
She had no illusions about what his intentions were. He was going to seduce her in the hopes that once she was under his sexual spell once again, she would believe in him again. And, if she wasn't careful, he would succeed.
The sane part of her insisted that she stay against the wall — away from Alex. But then there was that other part of her. The part Alex had helped her discover. The part that made her reckless.
She went to his side. He had the decency not to gloat.
"What are you going to do?" she asked.
"Sit down," he said, patting the mat.
She shook her head. "Uh-uh. Too close. I don't trust you."
"Wise move," he said, almost making her believe he was serious. "I wouldn't trust me, either. On the other hand," he said, "you already know what you're getting with me. We both agree I'm a louse. An unreliable dolt."
She narrowed her gaze. This was getting weird. Was he going for reverse psychology? Or was he just plain nuts? Or maybe it was her that was nuts.
She compromised. She found herself a place on the mat, as far away from him as possible.
He moved before she could protest and a second later, his hands cupping her face, he stole her breath with a devastating kiss.
She meant to complain, but the sound came out more like a moan. When his tongue slipped between her teeth, she didn't bite him, although she sure thought about it.
He pulled back, let his hands drop, but his gaze held her steady. "Here's my idea. I won't ask you to take me back. I won't try to convince you that I'm a new man. I won't even beg. Well, maybe a little. But not about our future."
"And?"
His eyes grew wicked, and she felt the tension in her stomach swirl and dip. Oh, God.
"And we both admit we want to make love…here."
"Wait —"
He held up a hand. "Dana, I may not be Mr. Right. But I am certainly Mr. Right Here. Right Now. And you can't deny how I make you feel."
"That's it? You've given up trying to convince me? Trying to change my mind?"
His cocky demeanor vanished with a blink. "No. I'll never stop trying. I can't."
The naked truth of his statement shook her more than anything he'd said before. She could see he meant it. Only, with him going back to New York in a few days…
She opened her mouth with every intention of saying no. It couldn't work. No.
Oh, hell. Who was she kidding?
She grabbed him by the sweater and pulled him into a kiss.
Alex wrapped his arms tightly around her. It was all he could do not to crush her to him.
He traced her lower lip with the tip of his tongue, nipping at it and sucking, quickly moving to the edge of her mouth, dropping a light kiss before his lips moved to her cheek. A light caress, then he was at her ear, sweeping over the curve to the lobe, which he grasped with his teeth.
She was his. Maybe it was just for an hour, but maybe… He hadn't been able to convince her with words. This was his last chance.
"Mine," he whispered, hardly aware he said it out loud.
"Alex —"
His finger touched her lips. "Just…for now."
Dana swallowed. The possessiveness of his arms, the need in his voice, they could seduce her so easily. Maybe being seduced wasn't such a bad thing.
The finger on her lips traced a hot line down her neck, soft kisses following closely behind. She trembled as she felt his moist lips and tongue taste her, and when he moaned his pleasure her insides shimmered in anticipation.
"I've seen you on fire. I'm going to see you there again," he said, hardly moving away from the kiss.
His hands moved down to her shoulders as he pushed the robe off. She let it fall, even though it was still cold in the room. He wouldn't let her be cold for long.
Her jacket followed, and then his fingers worked their magic on her blouse. He stopped only when he saw her white lace bra. His sharp intake of breath told her he remembered this particular garment.
She hadn't worn it for a long time. Months. Why had she chosen it tonight? Had something told her she would see him? That she would be in his arms?
He leaned down and kissed the curve of her chest, where her breasts came together in her cleavage. Then, moving slowly, he turned his attention to her nipple, still encased in lace. His hot breath came through the material, and her goose bumps got goose bumps. She hardly felt him touch her back, but then her bra slipped from her body, leaving her naked and shivering amidst hundreds of roses.
Another kiss — this time, her left breast. Reverentially his tongue circled the areola until she stopped him with two fingers on his jaw. She moved his head slightly, until he got the point. He sucked her nipple into his mouth making her cry out as she arched her back.
A heartbeat later, she felt something caress the underside of her breast. Not his fingers, not his tongue. Something…wonderful.
Dana looked down to see a pink rose in his hand, the perfect petals brushing her skin.
The sensation made her sigh, made her melt right there on the mat, right there in his arms. And when she smiled and touched his cheek, his soft, "Thank you," stripped away her last hesitation.
The rose disappeared, and he pulled away, startling her until she saw him whip his sweater over his head and toss it aside. In a fevered rush, he unbuttoned his shirt and then that, too, lay in a heap somewhere outside their nest. He paused, his chest heaving, to lay her down, and then his hands were on her skirt. Another moment, and she was almost naked. White lace panties and thigh-high stockings her only covering.
He sighed. "So beautiful. So perfect."
She wasn't, she knew that. She had flaws, many of them, but she felt perfect in his gaze. She arched, lifting her hips, begging him to strip her bare....
Alex let his gaze trail over Dana's body. Although part of him was so anxious to touch her he shook with the need, some small sanity slowed his actions. He wanted to remember this. Every second. Every step.
Surrounded by flowers, Dana was so beautiful she made the roses seem pale and artificial.
Alex bent his head and kissed her stomach, just above her navel.
Dana gasped, a small, sharp inhale. One more kiss, in the same spot, and then he somehow got his clothes off.
Her skin, like sun-scorched velvet beneath his lips, tasted like honey. Gentle kisses traced a pattern down and down, a swirl of his tongue in her belly button, then down across the soft terrain of flesh until his lips felt the edge of her panties.
Teasing her a moment more, then finding the elastic sides of the panties, slowly easing them down her hips, baring her to his eyes, his lips.
The stockings made her appear somehow more naked than if she'd been bare. She lay before him, like the lush pink rose he'd held a moment before. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. If he could stop time, this would be the moment he'd want forever. No, wait. Not quite yet. He'd want to be inside her if it was for all eternity.
Dana felt his hot breath at the lips of her sex. She wanted him to take his time. She wanted him to hurry. She wanted… "Please…" She breathed.
The single word filled him with more desire than he could handle. He bent his head down again, tasting her, teasing her. All he could think of was silk. Silk petals, softer than any rose.
Slowly, he tasted her, all the way up and down and up again. Her hand tightened in his hair, making him cringe, but then she loosened her grip. What he was about to do would make her pull his hair tighter still, but he could take it. To hear her cry out would ease any ache he could feel.
"Alex…" Her head moved from side to side, thrashing with the exquisite torment of his practiced mouth.
Her muscles tensed, from her abdomen to her toes, to her fingertips. She released his hair only to dig her fingers into the cushion beneath her as she grew tighter and tighter.
He didn't let up. Not for a second, and then she hit the crest. He heard the echo of her cry as she crashed into heaven, as her body released her pent-up energy in an explosion that made her world spin.
And then, she felt his hands beneath her legs, lifting them, as he moved in. She opened her eyes to see him above her. His face, so beautiful, the essence of need, of hard-fought restraint.
He plunged into her, making her cry out again. Pure heat filled her, completed her, made her whole.
He rested fully inside her for several seconds, his face transforming before her eyes. Satisfaction. No, more than that. Homecoming. Peace. Perfection. It was all there in his smile, his emerald eyes.
He moved. Slowly now, pulling out until only an inch remained inside her. Then the inexorable thrust until he filled her again. "I love you," he said. "I've never stopped loving you."
It was true. She knew that. He hadn't stopped loving her, and she hadn't stopped loving him. But…
He pushed into her again, trembling as her silken sheath tightened around him. "Say it. Tell me."
"I —"
He thrust again, harder. "Please."
Dana met his thrusts as her second climax started deep inside. She loved him. She knew it with absolute certainty. It wasn't just the sex. It was much more than that. Loving him made her whole.
He threw his head back and at the moment of his climax, he cried out her name. "Dana…"
When he caught his breath, his gaze moved to her eyes. Everything he was, was right there in the green depths. All his pain, all his beauty, his strength, his flaws. But mostly, his love for her.
He loved her unconditionally.
The truth of that filled her as nothing ever had before. He loved her with all his heart, with his soul, no matter what.
And suddenly, with the scent of roses filling her heart to bursting, it was easy. The struggle ended, and she could hardly believe there had been a struggle at all. "Alex…"
He lifted his brow. Waiting.
"Ask me again."
He inhaled sharply. Closed his eyes as if in prayer, then focused on her once more. "Say it," he whispered. "Tell me."
"I love you. I think… " She swallowed, her need to get this right making it hard to speak. "I want to try again."
"That's all I needed to hear." He looked at her with shining eyes. "I can't prove to you yet how much I've changed, Dana. But in time… And for the rest of our lives, I'll show you."
Hot tears gathered in her eyes. "You'd better. Because I'm not letting you go again. Not for a day, not for an hour."
He smiled as he wrapped himself around her. "That's a relief. Things could have gotten pretty awkward."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm moving back. I've got a position at Klein and Forrest. They're paying me a lot of money. Enough money that in about 16 months, if my calculations are correct, you can quit and we can open up that little antique store you've always wanted."
She opened her mouth, but no words came out. He'd calculated what it would take to make her dreams come true? "What about your dreams?"
He pulled her close. She smiled as he looked in her eyes. "If we're together, I can do anything."
He kissed her again, his hand running down her side. His mouth left hers, and he whispered. "Hold that thought." Then he was on his knees, gathering their clothes. "As much as I hate to cover you up, I don't want you to freeze." His wicked grin sent shivers down her spine. "I've got too many plans for us."
She dressed slowly, watching Alex, wondering what she was getting herself into. He was moving back. They were going to try again. Only this time, this time would be different. Their time apart had changed him. Changed them both. For the first time she was really beginning to believe him. "Alex?"
He finished pulling his sweater on. "Yes?"
"Have you given any thought to where you're going to live?"
He nodded. "I've thought about it."
"And?"
"Where would you like me to live?"
She smiled. "How does my place sound?"
He laughed, and then he scooped her up into his arms. After a kiss, a dozen kisses, he met her gaze. "It sounds fantastic."
He moved to take her lips once more, but a noise stopped him. His eyes widened and they both turned toward the back of the room, to the loading door.
Someone was coming in. They would make it to the dinner after all. Together. Alex stood and held his hand out. She took it, and he helped her to her feet.
He touched her cheek. "I love you. I've always loved you. And I'll do everything in my power to make you happy."
"I know."
"You don't. But you will. From this night on, until the end of time." He reached behind her for a moment, and came back with a single pink rose.
She took it from him, and brought it to her nose. As she took a deep breath, she realized it was the scent of happiness. Of love. Of forever.
The End