He lifted his eyes back up to her face. “How’s the head?” he asked huskily.
She seemed to become flustered. “Er … it doesn’t feel too bad.” Awkwardly she spun to face the mirrored wall, going up on her toes to stare at her reflection. “I came to see if it was okay.” She lifted her long tousled strands to check the injury. “Yes, it looks fine,” she chattered. “There’s a bit of a bump and no sign of bleeding.”
He appreciated that she was okay, but did she know that stretching up over the sink like she was, the side split of her nightshirt was showing him more of her long silken legs than he’d ever seen before? All the way up her thigh to the line of her panties.
Suddenly she seemed to freeze in position as she stretched up at the mirror like that, and he realized right then she was looking at him in the mirror, with a hungry look that drifted down over his bare chest and the pajama bottoms he’d worn last night for her benefit. He tensed with arousal and she must have noticed. Their eyes locked together in the glass.
And then she slowly pushed back from the sink and turned to face him with her body, her chin tilting provocatively, her eyes inviting him to take her. Caught off-guard by such an unfamiliar look from her, he swallowed hard. His assistant was certainly showing him a new side of herself lately.
“Samantha,” he said thickly, galvanized into taking a step toward her. “Do you know what you’re—”
“Yes, Blake, I do.”
He reached her and she tumbled against him, her hands flattening against his chest, her mouth seeking his, her lips parting beneath his without any pressure at all.
Their kiss was hot and urgent and demanding, their bodies pressing closer and closer together, reveling in each other. Then a soft moan of hers breathed into him, and in a haze of desire, he deepened the kiss until he finally had to break away to suck in air.
But only for a moment, until he began planting quick, soft kisses down that creamy throat, before coming back up again to her lips, needing to be inside her mouth once more, needing to breathe her in once more.
He pulled her harder against him, running his hands hungrily over the satin material and feminine curves. She quivered all over from head to toe, wildly gripping his shoulders like she needed to hold on to him.
Mouth to mouth, he backed her to the full-length sink and lifted her up onto a folded fluffy towel. Her thighs fell open and he heard a button pop from the front of her nightshirt. He gave a groan of approval and wedged himself between her legs ….
And the coldness of the marble touched his erection through his pajamas.
The shock of it made him still. Heaven knew he could do with cooling down … slowing down … but Samantha sat in front of him with her head tilted back and her eyes closed. Her cheeks were overheated, her breathing unsteady, and despite that come-to-me look she’d given him a short while ago, she appeared to be about to lose control. God knows he’d felt the instantaneous spiral of desire himself, but this was more and he really had to wonder just how inexperienced she actually was. He swallowed hard. Could she even be a virgin?
He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but he did know he couldn’t continue this right now. His previous lovers knew the score but this woman may not. And if he was playing with more than her body … if her emotions were more than involved … he could cause her a lot of heartache. He didn’t want to do that to Samantha.
Yet this wasn’t the moment to talk about it, with her looking all sexy and ready for the taking. There was too much hunger in the air in here. It would only confuse things. He liked her too much to do this to her.
Unwrapping her arms from around his neck, he lifted her down off the bench, hating that he had to walk away from her. “I’m sorry, Samantha.”
Bewilderment spread over her face. “What’s the—”
“I just can’t do it,” he rasped. “Not like this.” As hard as it was to leave her side, he turned and went back to his room.
He badly wanted to turn right back around, sweep her up in his arms and carry her to his bed. He shuddered as he closed the door between them.
They would talk later and perhaps it would turn out that he’d have to keep the door closed permanently between them. Maybe she would be his road not taken. But he had to think what was best for Samantha. She deserved better than becoming his temporary mistress.
Samantha didn’t know how she made it back to her own room. Humiliation scorched through her. She’d done exactly what she’d wanted to do and given Blake a come-on. She hadn’t deliberately gone into the bathroom to entice him in there, but the opportunity had presented itself and she’d thought it had worked. Then he’d just upped and walked away and, despite his obvious arousal, he said he couldn’t do it.
Couldn’t make love with her.
She knew it had nothing to do with her having a minor head injury this time. He might say it was, but she knew this was about him not wanting her enough. His body had automatically responded to a female in his arms, but his mind had been elsewhere. As he’d said the evening before, any woman with the right equipment could attract a man. Unfortunately the attraction he felt for her hadn’t been enough. Not for him.
It was Carl all over again.
She plopped down on her bed as her legs gave way. Had she unwittingly done something wrong back there? Something to annoy him physically? Clearly he hadn’t been invested in the moment like she’d been. It had been wonderful in his arms but she hadn’t realized he’d been feeling different. She thought he’d felt the same way. It was obvious now that he could turn himself on and off at a whim—just like he had after their kiss on the mountain.
Unlike her.
Her emotions whirled like a spinning top let loose on the floor. Oh, God, what was she going to do? How was she going to face him? Worse, would he insist on letting her out of her contract now? She had the feeling he would tell her to leave sooner rather than later.
At the thought, her emotions stopped spinning. They stopped dead. Her chin lifted. Right. Okay. If she was being given the heave-ho, then she would certainly leave without protest. It’s what she needed to do anyway, she told herself. She regretted she would leave with this between them, but things had gone too far. It was a good lesson in being careful what she wished for. Now she simply wished this nightmare would go away.
Samantha took a shower and carefully washed her hair, but wasn’t sure if she was dismayed or relieved after she came out of the bathroom and heard Blake’s car leaving. Going over to peek out her bedroom window, she saw him driving toward the Manor in the early morning light. Evidently she was okay to be left alone now, she thought with a stab of hurt.
Then her heart dropped to her feet. Perhaps he was going to tell his family that she was leaving sooner? Would he tell them why? That she’d made a play for him and put him in an awkward position? Her cheeks heated at the thought and she wanted to curl up in a ball and not see any of them again.
Yet pride wouldn’t allow her to do that. She’d held her head high when Carl had rejected her and she would do it again now. She would go up to the Manor and finish her tasks, and she would arrange her replacement. If she smiled at the others and acted carefree, then no one would know how bad she felt.
No one except Blake.
Half an hour later she sat at her desk at the Manor, relieved not to have seen anyone she knew on the way here. She didn’t want to answer questions about her accident, or anything else for that matter.
Thankfully the door to Blake’s office was shut, though the red light on the telephone told her he was making a call. Quickly she got herself organized, then found the number she was after and reached for the phone, hoping someone at the