He wanted her. Wanted this. The undeniable proof stood between them.
Encircling his smooth shaft with one hand, she cupped him with the other and tested his length, his silkiness. His muscles turned rigid, the tendons of his face and neck strained. She circled the satiny head with her thumb the way she knew he liked and relished his groan.
“Tara—”
“Shh. Let me.” She sank to her knees and licked him from base to tip.
He jammed his fingers into her hair so swiftly she expected him to yank her away. But he didn’t. Parting her lips, she took as much of him into her mouth as she could, stroking him, loving him. His texture. His taste. His response. Each growl and hiss and pulse rewarded her efforts.
She dragged one hand down a rock-hard thigh and skimmed it around to cup his clenched buttocks. Her tongue swirled around him and the fingers in her hair trembled. Each little quake teased her scalp and heated her core. She smiled and deepened her kiss, knowing he liked what she was doing.
Rand swore.
“Tara.” He ground out her name in a command, a warning, a plea.
She dragged her short nails up and down the back of his thigh. The tremors spread to his legs. His toes curled into the rug.
She remembered his erogenous zones, the spots that made Rand shudder, and she shamelessly reacquainted herself with each one, lingering until his back bowed and his fingers fisted. He tried to pull away, but she cinched her arms around him and wouldn’t let him go. And then he roared out his pleasure.
Moments later his hands fell heavily to her shoulders, then he cupped her face and urged her to stand. She rose slowly, kissing a path from his hipbone to his sternum, his collarbone, his jaw and finally his mouth.
Rand’s arms banded around her, crushing her body to his as he kissed her so fiercely she grew dizzy and had to break away to gasp for breath. His hazel eyes burned into hers and his nostrils flared with each inhalation.
Happy that she could give him as much pleasure as he’d given her two nights ago, she smiled and traced a finger along his jaw. As long as they had this explosive chemistry between them, she had a chance to revive and improve on their past relationship.
“Thank you for being there for me.” Her words came out choppy with emotion. It had been so long since she’d had someone to lean on. But she wasn’t going to turn on the waterworks in front of him again. She’d done enough of that last night.
She wiggled free and made a beeline for the door.
“What was that about?” Rand’s harsh voice stopped her before she could escape. Tara looked at him over her shoulder. Suspicion clouded his eyes, and it tore her heart. Why couldn’t he trust her?
“I wanted to make you feel good.”
The flush of passion had faded from his face and his lips made a thin, straight line. “What do you expect in return?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Right.” Disbelief stretched out the word. He closed the distance between them until he loomed over her. “You want me. I can see it in your eyes and the color of your cheeks. Your nipples are hard. I’ll bet you’re wet, Tara.”
“Without a doubt.”
He lifted his hand and grasped her shoulder. His thumb covered the racing pulse at the base of her neck. She shivered.
“I didn’t say I wasn’t aroused, Rand. I said I didn’t expect anything from you tonight.”
“But you wouldn’t say no.” The razor-sharp edge had returned to his voice. He dragged a finger to her breast, bumped over a tightened nipple, bisected her belly and grazed the sensitive area between her thighs.
Desire clenched her womb. But Rand seemed angry instead of turned on and his anger wasn’t what she craved. The gold flecks in his irises glittered, but not with hunger. This wasn’t the same man she’d lost her heart to. This Rand was harder, less trusting and less charming.
What had made him that way?
“I wouldn’t say no if I thought you wanted me right now. But you don’t. And I don’t want you back in my bed until you want to be there.” Backing him into a corner and demanding sex had only thickened the walls between them. She had to give him space.
His eyes narrowed to slits. “What game are you playing?”
“No game.” She stepped away although part of her ached to stay, to find sexual pleasure with him even though she knew she’d regret it later. “Good night, Rand. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She slipped through the door and into her room.
Gaining his trust would be difficult, but if she couldn’t do that, then she’d never win his heart. Five years ago she hadn’t been up to the task, but today she was older, wiser, stronger and more determined. She wasn’t going to rush this time. She had a full year to accomplish her goal.
She wanted the man she’d fallen in love with back, and then she’d win him over.
Because this time nothing less than everything Rand Kincaid had to offer would be enough.
The sudden roar of an engine broke Rand’s concentration Saturday evening.
He looked over his laptop screen and out the window beyond the desk he’d set up in his bedroom, and spotted Tara with a red lawnmower on the back lawn. A floppy straw hat covered her hair and face, but her skimpy bathing-suit top and short shorts did a piss-poor job of covering her from her shoulders to the white sneakers on her feet. His gaze cruised past the curves of her breasts to her midriff and long legs and back up again. His pulse quickened.
He forced his attention back to the spreadsheet, but the numbers might as well have been encrypted. He shoved the pages away. So much for the financial report. His brain had been hijacked by his libido.
Again.
The entire week had been a challenge. Tara was everything he’d said at the executives’ dinner and more. Smart. Efficient. Productive. She seemed to anticipate his needs even before he recognized them.
She was also a distraction. Her scent lingered in his office long after she left, and he heard every movement she made on the other side of the wall dividing her workspace from his. He’d never had trouble blocking out his previous PAs’ voices, but at this rate his open door policy was in danger of becoming the closed door variety.
She’d played him with the oldest trick in the book Thursday night. Seduction. And it pissed him off. Heat steamed from his pores and his body switched to red alert at the mental replay of her hot, wet mouth pulling a response from him. One he’d wanted to deny but couldn’t.
Cursing his inability to block the images from his memory, he closed his laptop, and gave in to the temptation to look at her again.
What was it about Tara Anthony that made him ignore rules and good sense?
Tara swiped a hand across her forehead, driving Rand’s gaze to the outside thermometer hanging by the back gate in the flower-flooded garden. Eighty-eight degrees. He drummed his fingers on the desk.
He’d been cloistered in his bedroom working for most of the day. And he wanted to stay here, avoiding Tara, avoiding the sexual craving her proximity caused, avoiding the memory of her talented, lying mouth. Avoiding the relationship he wanted no part of but she seemed insistent on forcing.
But his conscience wouldn’t let him, and he couldn’t concentrate with her making all that racket. He shot out of his chair, headed downstairs