Without stopping to think, he lowered his head and flicked his tongue against it. Her shocked gasp washed over his jaw. Drawing her closer, he closed his mouth over her pulse, needing to connect with her life force.
‘No.’
Her protest was firm and solid—nothing like the debilitating weakness that flooded him.
He paused. Slowly he raised his head. Her eyes were pools of hurt, wide and aching. The vice in his chest tightened. When her lips worked as if she wanted to say more his gaze fell to her moist, plump mouth. It tempted him...a siren’s call he couldn’t resist.
With a suppressed groan, he started to lower his head again.
‘No,’ she stressed again. ‘I’m not fixated on you, Bastien.’
The words were said with a conviction that stopped his breath. But he wanted her to be. Just as he was fixated on her. She’d already succeeded in getting under his skin. She made him want everything he shouldn’t.
Hell, last night he’d even found himself reaching for the phone. He’d been halfway to dialling his mother’s cell phone before he’d stopped himself. Knowing she was responsible for him placing himself in a position of possible rejection should have made him angry. Instead something had shifted inside him, and the instincts that had seen him through some tough and tricky times had urged him down a different path. A shaky, unsettling path of maybe and...hope.
‘What aren’t you telling me, Ana? If you want me to help you, talk to me.’
His breath stalled as he waited for her to answer.
Her eyes slid from his, distress evident in her face. ‘I...I’ve been wondering if my mother has anything to do with the drugs...’
Her gaze clashed with his for a fleeting second, then slid away again. But in that split moment he glimpsed deep hurt in their soulful depths.
Bastien realised how difficult it had been for her to admit that. And how brave. He cupped her face in his hands. The pulse of arousal still throbbed in his blood but an underlying tenderness rose out of nowhere—an urge to comfort her that swamped him, left him unable to breathe. He wanted to step back, to withdraw from the feeling, but he found he couldn’t move. Found his hands gentling, his head dipping so he could look into her eyes.
‘Why do you think it was her?’ he asked softly.
Her breath shuddered out. ‘She was fired from her job. She gets mean when she’s upset, but after our conversation yesterday I’m not so sure...’ She choked to a halt.
‘I’ll have the investigators look into it.’
Her gaze anxiously searched his. ‘What if I’m wrong? I know you think I’m foolish, but if there’s hope for our relationship I don’t want to ruin it.’
Knowing the emotion he’d let himself entertain, how could he condemn her? ‘You’re not foolish. And I’ll make sure it’s kept discreet.’
Her smile bloomed, lighting up her face. Lighting up inside him. Again something tightened in his chest—harder this time.
The ground shifted beneath his feet.
He wanted to block out her voice by whatever means necessary, to throw caution to the wind, sweep her into his arms and carry her to his bed. His gut tightened as every sense clamoured for just one more taste of her sensual lips. For a chance to cup her breasts, bury his face between them as he surged inside her.
She was casting a spell over him. He knew that. And yet he couldn’t move away.
‘Thank you. Sorry I slapped you,’ she tagged on, but a small smile teased her lips.
‘Why do I get the impression you don’t really mean that?’
Her smile grew. ‘Because you’ve got a very suspicious mind?’
‘Maybe, but my instincts still warn me that you’re dangerous to me, Ana Duval.’ The words spilled out before he could stop them.
Her eyes widened. She gave a shocked laugh. ‘I’m not dangerous.’
With a twist of his body he reversed their places, backed her against the door. ‘Then why do I feel as if I have to have you or lose my mind?’
Heat blossomed in her cheeks. ‘You—you do?’
‘I want... I need to make love with you. You’re like a fever in my blood. Last I heard a fever not broken can kill. Which makes you a serious threat to my life.’
* * *
Ana couldn’t tear her gaze from Bastien’s face. His words wove a dangerous spell over her. A spell she wanted to throw herself into wholeheartedly.
Her mind spun, unable to keep a firm hold on reality.
‘You don’t mean that.’ Her words emerged from a throat thick with desire.
He pressed his body against hers. ‘I do. You’re in my head, in my blood...’
She couldn’t deny the powerful message from his body. He wanted her. And, as much as she wanted to deny it, she wanted him too. Badly.
And that was insanity itself...
His head descended again.
One kiss. Just one kiss and then you’ll stop, a tiny voice whispered.
Only it was less of a kiss and more of a possession.
Bastien took control of her mouth and ravaged her senses. His hands cupped her breasts and she moaned, her craving intensifying. What he was doing wasn’t enough. She wanted more—much more. She wanted no barriers between them, wanted his hands on her, skin to skin.
As if he’d heard her silent plea he dropped his hands to the seam of her top and pulled it up. Firm hands caressed her bare midriff, forcing her breath out of her lungs. Blood surged underneath her skin, escalating the dizzy spin already sending her off course.
Hanging on to the belief that she was in control, that she could stop despite the haziness of her thoughts, she thrust her tongue against his, savouring its rough texture and boldly following it when Bastien retreated. His chest lifted, sucking in air. His grip tightened at her waist, and then he was easing her top higher, his intent clear.
Ana briefly considered protesting but the fever raging through her was all-consuming—a powerful drug more potent than the heroin she’d been accused of taking. The whisper of air over her skin barely registered before Bastien drew her closer once more. His heat scorched her. He touched, caressed, coaxed the very fire from the core of her being as his hands trailed over her skin.
A sense of awakening overwhelmed Ana. Tears prickled behind her closed lids and she fought to breathe as sensation bombarded her. And through it all Bastien continued to ravage her lips as if he couldn’t get enough.
‘Touch me,’ he commanded hoarsely.
She obeyed.
His muscles clenched at the touch of her hands on his back. Tentative, excited, she caressed him, following the sleek, toned power of his shoulders until her hands settled on his nape. A deep groan rumbled from his chest, the sound evoking a well of pleasure inside her.
Clenching a fist in his hair, she tugged his head down, bolder in the effort to wring one last ounce of pleasure from the kiss. Because she had to stop soon...had to—
He bit her lower lip as he pinched her hardened nipples. Ana cried out. Liquid fire pooled between her thighs, drenching her with need.
He lifted his head and stared down at her, eyes stormy grey with barely leashed passion. Deliberately, he moulded her breasts, his action slow, tormenting. Another hoarse gasp echoed through the room. Without