Her legs wobbled, and deep inside her, she felt liquid warmth pool at her center and ache for what only he could give her. His strong hands moved up and down her spine, then slipped to her behind and held her pressed tightly to the hard, rigid length of him.
Caitlyn lost herself in the magic of the moment. She forgot all about her determination to avoid Jefferson’s seductive powers. Forgot all about the fact that she knew he was deliberately toying with her. Didn’t care that his amazing kiss meant no more to him than it had with any of the other women in his life.
For now, for right now, this was enough.
She was pliant in his arms. Warm and curvy and eager. Jefferson knew that in a seduction, timing was everything. He should slow down now. Back away before he pushed her too far too quickly. Seduction was a slow, deliberate business. A careful dance to which he knew all the steps.
And yet, he didn’t want to stop kissing her. She melded against him, and his body went tighter, harder than he would have thought possible. Every inch of him ached for her. His hands held her to him, ground her hips against his, and it wasn’t enough.
He took her mouth, invaded her damp heat, and it wasn’t enough. Felt her breath puff against his cheek and only wanted more. Heard her soft sigh and felt himself inflamed at the gentle sound. Her scent welled up inside him, flowers and spice, and flavored her kiss until he thought he would never again draw a breath without tasting her.
And that thought was enough to drag him back to his senses—or what was left of them. Reluctantly, he tore his mouth from hers and eased her from the iron grip he’d held her in. He had to let her go if for no other reason than to prove to himself that he could.
But when she turned those big, dark eyes on him, Jefferson knew that whether or not he was touching her, the connection was still there. Linking them together. Drawing them closer.
He took a step back to give himself time to settle, turned and picked up their wineglasses. Handing her one, he took a long drink of the chilled wine and let the icy liquid cool the fires burning within.
“Okay,” she said, and swallowed hard. “That was better than not bad.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, taking her hand and leading her to her chair, “it was.”
Much better. The seduction was working just as he’d planned. But if he wasn’t careful, he might just get caught in his own web.
Seven
A couple of days later Caitlyn felt as though she were balanced on a delicately thin wire stretched taut, high over a cage filed with hungry lions.
“Or,” she told herself, “make that one very hungry Lyon.”
Who would have guessed that Jefferson could pack so much power into a kiss? That she could feel all she’d felt in those few moments on that moonlit patio? Want all she’d wanted. And in the past two days he’d been even more attentive. Going with her for swims, into the village to shop, having dinner with her, glaring at any men who might think about approaching.
The man was a force of nature. Irresistible, overwhelming and just so damned appealing.
Oh, she was in serious trouble.
She leaned back in her chair and let her gaze wander over the elegant yet sleekly casual resort restaurant. The floor here was blue tile, as well, and the walls were a soft sea-green. One side of the room was glass with French doors leading onto a patio with the ocean just beyond. There weren’t many customers at the moment, as it was too late for lunch and too early for dinner. Caitlyn had come in and ordered tea and scones. She’d simply needed a quiet place to sit and think. Somewhere away from her former boss and current pain in the behind.
And it had been quiet. Until her cell phone rang a moment ago.
“Oh,” Debbie said firmly, “he’s hungry, all right. Just make sure he doesn’t start snacking on you.”
Caitlyn frowned. Her friend had a point. Although, the thought of being nibbled by Jefferson did have its appeal.
“Oh, man,” she said on a groan, “this is bad.”
“That’s why I called. Janine told me you’re having some problems with Jefferson,” Debbie said, and Caitlyn calmed down just listening to her more even-tempered friend’s quiet voice coming over the phone.
“Problems. Oh, that’s fair to say,” she said, picking at the corner of one blueberry scone. “He’s throwing me off balance because he’s being so nice.”
“Uh-huh.”
She heard the disbelief in her friend’s tone and couldn’t really blame her. After all, Debbie and Janine had been her listening posts to all of her complaints about Jefferson for the last three years. But they didn’t understand, really. As much as she’d always grumbled about him, Caitlyn had enjoyed working for him more than she’d disliked it.
“Okay, fine, he wasn’t always an easy man to get along with, but here he’s different.”
“I bet.”
“In a good way,” Caitlyn said, feeling for some strange reason that she should be defending him even though he’d been making her nuts. “He’s funny, too, Debbie. God, at dinner the other night we laughed for hours. I’d never really seen that side of Jefferson before and—”
“Janine was right about this. I hate when that happens,” Debbie muttered.
“Very funny.”
“Honey,” Debbie said on a sigh, “you’re setting yourself up for a fall. I can hear it in your voice. You’re going island girl on me here.”
“No, I’m not.” She took a sip of coffee, then broke off another piece of her scone. Nodding at the waitress who strolled past, she popped the pastry into her mouth, chewed and said, “I’m not stupid, Deb. It’s not like I’m planning a pretty wedding or practicing signing Mrs. Jefferson Lyon on my notebook.”
“I’ve got to go outside for this. Hold on a sec,” she said, and a long moment of silence passed before she came back. “Sorry. But I just don’t feel comfortable yelling at one of my best friends when everyone in the office can overhear.”
Caitlyn should have been grateful. The travel agency Debbie owned and operated was a busy one. “I don’t need to be yelled at, thanks.”
“No, what you need is a swift kick in the memory. But since I’m not close enough, this’ll have to do,” Debbie said.
Caitlyn’s eyes rolled as she broke off another piece of scone.
“Cait, honey, Jefferson Lyon is bad news. He’s too rich. Too powerful. Too used to getting his own way.”
Caitlyn winced a bit. Debbie’s erstwhile fiancé had also been rich, powerful—and, oh, yeah, a bigamist.
Before she could say anything, though, Debbie was talking again.
“Jefferson is not what he’s pretending to be. Only a few days ago you said yourself that he was up to something.”
Scowling now, she pushed the plate of scones away, scrawled her name and room number on the check and stood up. Walking briskly out of the restaurant, she headed for the bank of elevators on the far side of the lobby.
“I really hate it when my friends use logic,” she muttered and jabbed the up button. While she waited, she said, “But maybe he’s changed—and, man, that sounds so movie-of-the-week. He hasn’t changed, has he?”
“Nope,” Debbie agreed. “Remember when you said that Jefferson is only concerned