Much as she hated to admit it, Stazy knew she didn’t need any ‘heating up’ where this man was concerned! And considering it was now July, and the evenings stayed light until after ten o’clock at night, she didn’t think there was much chance of any candles appearing on the dinner table—tomorrow night or any other. In fact it was still so light at the moment that the curtains hadn’t even been drawn over the floor-to-ceiling windows yet, and the view of a beautiful sunset was certainly adding to the air of romance.
Whatever cutting reply Stazy might have wanted to make to Jaxon’s suggestion was delayed as Little returned with a laden tray, his face completely expressionless as he served their main course without meeting the gaze of either one of them before quietly departing again.
‘You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?’ Stazy eyed Jaxon impatiently as he grinned across the table at her.
Jaxon chuckled softly. ‘So would you be if you would just lighten up a little. Oh, come on, Stazy—just think about it for a minute and then admit it was funny,’ he cajoled irritably as she continued to frown.
‘I’ll admit no such thing! You—’
‘Ever heard the saying about the lady protesting too much …?’ He raised mocking brows. ‘I’ve been told that when a lady does that, it usually means she wants you to do the opposite of what she’s saying.’
‘Whoever told you that was an idiot!’ She gave an impatient shake of her head. ‘And if you weren’t my grandfather’s guest I would ask you to leave!’
‘Pity about that, isn’t it?’ he murmured dryly.
Stazy threw her napkin down on the tabletop before standing up and moving away from the table. ‘If you will excuse me—’
‘No.’
She stilled. ‘What do you mean, no?’
‘Exactly what I said—no.’ The humour had gone from Jaxon’s voice and expression, and there was a dark scowl on his brow as he threw down his own napkin before standing up to move purposefully around the table towards her.
Stazy raised a protesting hand even as she instinctively took a step backwards—only to find herself trapped between a looming Jaxon in front of her and a glass cabinet containing china ornaments behind her. ‘Stop this right now, Jaxon—’
‘Believe me, I haven’t even started yet,’ he growled, a nerve pulsing in his tightly clenched jaw as he towered over her. ‘In fact I think maybe we should just get this over with and then maybe we can move on!’ he muttered impatiently.
Stazy looked up at him with startled eyes. ‘Get what over with …?’
He gave a shake of his head and lifted his arms to place them either side of her head so that his hands rested on the doors of cabinet behind her, his body almost, but not quite, touching hers. ‘For some reason you seem to have decided that at some time during my stay here I’m going to try and seduce you into my bed, so I thought we might as well make a start!’
‘You—’ Stazy’s protest came to an abrupt end as she realised that lifting her hands and placing them against Jaxon’s chest, with the intention of pushing him away from her, had been a bad idea. A very bad idea.
Her hands lingered. His chest felt very warm to her touch through the soft material of his shirt—like steel encased in velvet as his muscles flexed beneath her fingers. The smell of his cologne—cinnamon and sandalwood—combined with hot, hot male was almost overwhelming to the senses.
Almost?
Stazy ceased to breathe at all as she stared up at Jaxon with wide, apprehensive eyes. Was he right? Had she been ‘protesting too much’? When in reality she had been longing for this to happen?
God, yes …!
Much as it pained her to admit it, Stazy knew she had thought about Jaxon far too often for comfort in the last six weeks. Damn it, she had even fantasised earlier about what it would be like to be naked with Jaxon, making love with him.
But wanting something and getting it weren’t the same things, were they? For instance she had wanted an expensive microscope when she was ten years old—had been convinced at the time that she intended to be a medical doctor when she was older. Her parents had bought her a less expensive microscope, equally convinced that it was just a fad she was going through, with the promise of buying her the more expensive microscope one day if she ever did become a doctor.
Maybe not the best analogy, but Stazy no more needed Jaxon in her bed now than she had really needed that very expensive microscope nineteen years ago.
In other words, allowing Jaxon Wilder to kiss her would be an extravagance her emotions just didn’t want or need!
Stazy liked her life ordered. Structured. Safe!
Most of all safe.
She had learnt at a very young age that caring for someone, loving them, needing a special someone in your life, was a guarantee of pain in the future when that person either left or—worse—died. As her parents had died. As Granny had died. As her grandfather, now in his nineties, and with that heart attack only a few months ago behind him, would eventually die.
Stazy didn’t want to care about anyone else, to need anyone else—couldn’t cope with any more losses in her life.
‘Don’t do that!’ Jaxon groaned huskily.
She raised startled lids. ‘Do what?’
‘Lick your lips.’ The darkness of his gaze became riveted on the moistness of those lips as Stazy ran her tongue nervously between them. ‘I’ve been wanting to do exactly the same thing since the moment we first met,’ Jaxon admitted gruffly.
Her eyes were wide. ‘You have …?’
He rested his forehead against hers, his breath a warm caress across her already heated cheeks. ‘You have the sexiest mouth I’ve ever seen …’
She gave a choked laugh. ‘I thought it was universally acknowledged that that was Angelina Jolie?’
‘Until six weeks ago I thought so too.’ Jaxon nodded.
He had fantasised about Stazy’s mouth these past six weeks. Imagined all the things she could do to him with those deliciously full and pouting lips. Grown hard with need just thinking of that plump fullness against his flesh, kissing him, tasting him. As he now longed to taste her …
‘I’m going to kiss you now, Stazy,’ Jaxon warned harshly.
‘Jaxon, no …!’ she groaned in protest.
‘Jaxon, yes!’ he contradicted firmly, before lowering his head and capturing those full and succulent lips with his own, groaning low in his throat as he found she felt and tasted as good as he had imagined she would!
If Jaxon’s mouth had been demanding or rough against hers then Stazy believed she might have been able to resist him. She hoped she would have been able to resist him! As it was he kissed her with gentle exploration, sipping, tasting, as his mouth moved over and against hers with a slow languor that was torture to the senses. Taste as well as touch.
Those chiselled lips were surprisingly soft and warm against her own, his body even hotter as Jaxon lowered himself against her with a low groan, instantly making her aware of the hardness of his arousal pressing against her own aching thighs.
Unbidden, it seemed, her hands glided up his chest and over his shoulders, until her fingers at last became entangled with the overlong thickness of that silky dark hair.
He pulled back slightly, and Stazy at once felt bereft without the heat of those exploring lips against her own.
‘Say