Kitabı oku: «Snowbound With His Forbidden Innocent / Maid For The Untamed Billionaire», sayfa 3

CHAPTER THREE

SHE WASN’T GETTING away from him this time. He stepped in front of Stacey the first time their paths crossed. ‘Señorita Winner, I’m beginning to think you’re avoiding me.’

She looked at him wide-eyed. ‘Why would I do that?’

Her manner was as direct as ever, and held nothing more than professional interest. Opening her arms wide, she explained, ‘Forgive me. We’ve been very busy tonight, but I hope you’re pleased with what we’ve achieved so far?’

‘I am pleased,’ he admitted. ‘You’ve dealt with some difficult guests, defusing situations that could have disrupted other people’s enjoyment of the evening.’

Stacey shrugged. ‘I want everyone to enjoy themselves whoever they are. We all have different expectations.’

‘Indeed,’ he agreed, staring deep into her eyes.

She searched his as if expecting to find mockery there, and, finding none, she smiled. ‘Anyway, thank you for the compliment. I’ll accept it on behalf of the team. But now, if you’ll excuse me, I have one more thing to check before the banquet begins.’

‘Which is?’ he queried.

‘I want to make sure that no one else has swapped around their place card to sit closer to you.’

He laughed. ‘Am I so much in demand?’

‘You know you are,’ she said with one of her classic withering looks.

‘But not with you, I take it?’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said, but she couldn’t meet his eyes.

‘Forget it.’ He made her a mock bow. ‘And thank you for protecting me.’

‘My pleasure,’ she assured him, on the point of hurrying away.

‘So, where am I sitting?’ he asked to keep her close a little longer.

‘Next to me.’ She held his surprised stare in an amused look of her own. ‘I thought you’d like that. You don’t have a companion tonight, and I’ve seated the princess on your other side. I’ll be on hand to run errands.’

‘You? Run errands?’ he queried suspiciously.

‘Yes. Like a PA, or an assistant,’ she said in a matter-of-fact tone.

‘And you don’t mind that?’

‘Why should I? I’m here to work. If you’d rather I sat somewhere else—’

‘No,’ he said so fast he startled both of them. ‘I’m happy with the arrangements as they are.’

‘Then…’ She looked at him questioningly. ‘If you’ll excuse me?’

‘Of course,’ he said with a slight dip of his head. ‘Don’t let me keep you.’

She didn’t see Lucas again until everyone was seated for the banquet and she finally took her place beside him. ‘I was only joking about sitting down,’ she explained as a waiter settled a napkin on her lap with a flourish. ‘I wasn’t sure if you had someone in mind to take this place, and now I don’t want to leave an empty seat beside you.’

‘That wouldn’t look good,’ Luc agreed. ‘Is that the only reason you came to sit next to me?’ He gave her a long, sideways look.

‘I can’t think of any other reason,’ she said, though she knew she had to broach the subject of Lady Sarah’s leave of absence.

‘You impressed me tonight.’

‘You mean the team impressed you tonight,’ she prompted.

‘I mean you.’

Luc’s tone was soft and husky and he held her gaze several beats too long. She took advantage of the moment to ask him, ‘Does that mean the next contract’s secure?’

He frowned. ‘Is there something you’d like to tell me?’

He’d already heard, she guessed. Lucas hadn’t climbed the greasy pole of success without doing his research. She guessed he’d brought up her CV to check on her rise through the company, and would know the latest news on Party Planners, including the fact that Lady Sarah was ill. If she knew anything at all about Lucas Da Silva, she was prepared to bet he was on the case. ‘Only that Lady Sarah is unwell and has asked me to run this function as well as the next for you. Do you have a problem with that?’

‘A problem?’ Luc dipped his chin to fix her with a questioning stare.

‘The team has turned itself inside out for you, and will happily do so again.’

‘And I will thank them,’ he said.

‘But?’

‘You want assurances here and now?’

Before she could answer, a member of her team made a discreet gesture that would take Stacey away from the table. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I have to go.’

‘You’re not even going to stay long enough to test the food?’

‘I trust your chefs.’

‘That’s very good of you,’ Lucas commented dryly.

‘I trust you,’ she said, touching his arm to drive the point home.

Immediately, she wished she hadn’t done that. It was as if she’d plugged her hand into an electric socket. Her fingers were actually tingling. What she should be asking herself was whether Lucas would trust her enough to let her run an event as important to his company as the annual escape to the mountains. To make matters worse, it now seemed their old connection was as strong as ever, and she couldn’t resist teasing him before leaving the table. ‘Would you like me to deliver the happy news to one of the placecard-swapping starlets that a seat has become available next to their host?’

‘You’ll do no such—!’

Damn the woman! She’d gone! And with a smile on her mouth that promised she could still give as good as she got. This was like being back on the farm, where for every trick Stacey played on him he paid her back. His hackles were bristling. And his groin was in torment. He huffed a humourless laugh. Perhaps he deserved this, deserved the demon glint in her eyes, deserved Stacey.

He was still mulling this over when a young woman he vaguely recognised from the polo circuit approached the empty seat next to him, and, with what she must have imagined was a winsome expression on her avaricious face, commented, ‘You look lonely.’

‘Do I?’ Standing as good manners demanded, he waited until she’d sat down and he’d introduced her to a handsome young diplomat in the next chair. ‘I was distracted,’ he explained, swiping a hand across his forehead. ‘And unfortunately, I’ve just been called away. Please forgive me.’ He summoned a waiter. ‘Champagne for my guests.’

He left the table with relief. Whatever kind of spin he’d put on saving Stacey from the excesses playing on a loop in his mind had evaporated. They couldn’t leave things here. Confrontation between them was a given. Why try to avoid it? He knew when to pull back, didn’t he? Maybe not, he reflected as he crossed the dance floor in search of the one woman he would consider dancing with tonight. His primal self had roared to the surface of his outwardly civilised veneer, and it wouldn’t take much to tip that over into passion. Stacey had given him more than enough reason. He wouldn’t sleep until they’d had it out.

Lucas had left the table. There was no sign of him. Had she offended him, thereby ruining Party Planners’ chances of securing the next contract? She would never forgive herself if that were the case. The couples on the dance floor were thinning out, but it would be a long time until she was off duty, because Stacey would stay until the last member of staff had left. There were always stragglers amongst the guests who couldn’t take the hint that the people who had worked so hard to give them a wonderful time would like to go home at some point. The band had been hired to play for as long as people wanted to dance and, while both wait staff and musicians looked exhausted, none of the guests had taken the hint. There was only one thing for it. Politely and firmly, she told those who seemed hardly to know where they were any longer that the next shift would soon be arriving to set up for breakfast, and that the cleaners needed to come in first, and then she stood by ready to shepherd every last partygoer out of the room.

That done, she returned. She’d helped to tidy up the kitchen, and now she made herself useful by checking beneath tables for forgotten items. A surprising number of things were left behind at well-lubricated parties.

Another job completed, she crawled out backwards from the last table. Straightening up, still on hands and knees, she groaned as she placed her hands in the small of her back.

‘Can I help you?’

She jerked around so fast at the sound of Lucas’s voice she almost fell over.

‘You all right?’ he asked, lunging forward to catch her before she hit the ground. Shaking him off, she gave him one of her looks. ‘I see nothing has changed. Still the same accident-prone Stacey,’ he suggested as she staggered to her feet.

‘Only when you’re around. You jinx me.’

‘Can I help?’

‘No, thank you. Just put a safe distance between us and I’ll be fine.’

‘As always,’ he observed. ‘The status quo must be maintained—Stacey is fine.’

‘I am fine,’ she insisted with an edge of tiredness in her tone.

‘Too tired to keep your professional mask on?’

‘Something like that,’ she admitted with a sigh.

He laughed, and maybe she was overtired, because the sight of that sexy mouth slanting attractively made her want to stop fighting and be friends.

‘You’ve done enough tonight,’ he stated firmly as she looked around for something else to do.

‘It’s my job.’

‘Your job is to dance with me,’ Luc argued to her astonishment. ‘Unless you decide to blatantly ignore a client request, in which case I’ll have no alternative other than to report you for being uncooperative.’

‘You are joking?’

‘Am I? Are you willing to take that risk?’

If this had been ten years ago, she would have challenged him all the way down the line, but she was sure she could see a glint of amusement in his eyes. And why was she fighting anyway? ‘You’re going to report me because I won’t dance with you?’ she suggested in a very different tone.

One sweeping ebony brow lifted. ‘Sounds fair to me.’

‘Everything you say sounds fair to you,’ she pointed out, but she was smiling. Luc did that to her. He warmed her when she was in her grumpiest mood, and tonight, looking at him, grumpy was the furthest thing from her mind. ‘You are definitely the most annoying man in the world,’ she told him.

As well as the most exciting.

‘And, thanks for the offer, but I have a lovely placid life and I intend to keep it that way.’

‘Boring, do you mean?’ Luc suggested, thumbing a chin shaded with stubble as if it were morning and he’d just got out of bed.

‘I do not mean boring,’ she countered, thoroughly thrown by the way her mind was working. ‘I like things just the way they are.’

Luc sucked in his cheeks and the expression in his eyes turned from lightly mocking to openly disbelieving. ‘You don’t stay still long enough to know what placid means.’ And then he shrugged and half turned, as if he meant to go.

She felt like a hunted doe granted an unexpected reprieve. Badly wanting to prolong the encounter, she was forced to admit that Luc scared her. They’d always had a love-hate relationship: love when they were with the animals they both cared so deeply for, and hate when she saw the easy way Luc wound everyone around his little finger, especially women, forcing teenage Stacey to grit her teeth and burn. How could she not appear gauche compared to the type of sophisticated woman he dated? If she took her clothes off, would she measure up, or would Luc mock her as he used to when she tried to outride him? She couldn’t bear it. And…if they had sex—heaven help her for even thinking that thought—she would surely make a fool of herself. Having made it her business to be clued up where most things were concerned, short of doing it, it wasn’t possible to be clued up about sex, especially with a six-foot-six rugby-playing brother standing in the wings to make sure no half-decent man got near her. When she’d left home for college she hadn’t found anyone to match up to Lucas, and the few dates she’d been on had put her off sex for life. Who knew that not everyone showered frequently, or had feet as sexy as she had discovered Luc’s were when the three of them used to go swimming in the river? And he wouldn’t have patience with a novice. Why should he, when the women she’d seen him with were so confident and knowing? Was it likely he’d give lessons? Hardly, she reflected as she followed his gaze around the room.

‘Staff shouldn’t be working this late,’ he said, turning to her. ‘That goes for you too. I’m going to send everyone home.’

‘Even me?’ she challenged lightly.

‘No. You’re going to stay and dance. Don’t move,’ he warned as he went to give the order.

Stacey had done her research and knew Lucas owned this hotel together with several more. He gave the word and came back to her. Everyone apart from a lone guitarist left the ballroom. When Luc returned, he explained that the musician had asked if he could stay on, as he had a flight to catch, and there was no point in going to bed.

‘He told me that he’d rather unwind by playing the melodies he loved than spending a few hours in his room, and I get that.’ Lucas shrugged. ‘I told him to stay as long as he likes. He’s not disturbing anyone. Certainly not us,’ he added with a long, penetrating look.

Us?

Okay. Get over that. Had she forgotten Luc’s love of music? He used to stream music for her to work to at the farmhouse. Maybe she’d added a special significance to the lyrics of the tunes he chose, but the music had helped her escape into another world where there were no grimy floors and dirty dishes. ‘I’d welcome anything that drowns out the sound of men’s voices,’ she would say.

And now?

‘Do you always get your way?’ she asked, biting her lip to curb a smile.

‘Invariably,’ Luc admitted, straight-faced. And then he laughed. They both laughed, and what they shared in those few unguarded moments was everything she could wish for: warmth, a past that needed no explanation, and acceptance that they’d both changed, and that life was better now.

‘So, why aren’t you in bed?’ she asked cheekily as the guitarist ended one tune and segued into another.

‘I should be,’ Luc agreed, but in a way that made her cheeks warm, and suddenly all she could think about was that thwarted kiss all those years ago. Would he push her away if she kissed him now?

‘Come on—tell me why you’re here.’

‘To see you,’ he admitted with a wicked look.

‘Me?’ She laughed, a little nervously now. It always amazed her how the old, uncertain Stacey could return to haunt her at emotionally charged moments like this.

‘Why are you so surprised?’ Luc asked, bursting her bubble. ‘I’m the host of a party you planned. Don’t you usually have a debriefing session?’

‘Not over a dance,’ she said.

He shrugged. ‘Why not?’

‘We’ve never danced together before.’

‘Let’s start a new tradition.’

His eyes were dark and smouldering, while she was most certainly not looking her best after the busiest of evenings. Was he mocking her? It wouldn’t be the first time. They’d mocked each other constantly when she was younger. ‘Me dance with you?’ she queried suspiciously.

Luc’s black stare swept the ballroom. ‘Do you see anyone else asking?’

‘This had better not be a pity dance,’ she warned.

‘A pity dance?’ he queried.

‘Yes, you know, when Niahl used to dance with me whenever I attended those balls you two used to rip up together?’

‘The cattle markets?’ Lucas frowned as he thumbed his stubble.

‘That’s what you called them back then,’ Stacey agreed.

‘What would you call groups of hopefuls with one end in sight?’

‘Sheep to the slaughter’

He laughed. ‘Of course you would.’

‘I was a poor little wallflower,’ she insisted, pulling a tragic face. ‘No one ever asked me to dance.’

‘I wouldn’t call you a wallflower. You were more of a thistle. No one wanted to dance with you because you scowled all the time. People want happy partners to have fun with.’

‘The type of fun it’s better to avoid,’ she suggested.

Lucas didn’t answer but his expression said that was a matter of opinion.

‘Anyway, I didn’t scowl,’ she insisted, ‘and if I had smiled as you suggest, Niahl would have gone ballistic. He never let anyone near me.’

‘Quite right,’ Lucas agreed, pretending to be stern while the corner of his mouth was twitching. ‘Your brother never liked to see you sitting at a loss, so he danced with you. I don’t see anything wrong with that.’

Stacey rolled her eyes. ‘Every girl’s dream is to dance with her brother, while he scans the room looking for someone he really wants to be with.’

‘You’re not at a loss now,’ Lucas said as he drew her to her feet.

‘It appears not,’ Stacey answered. She was amazed by how calm she could sound while her senses were rioting from Lucas’s firm grip alone. And now their faces were very close. She turned away. ‘I’m sure there must be something I should be doing instead of dancing.’

‘Yes,’ Lucas agreed. His wicked black eyes smiled a challenge deep into hers. ‘I plan to discuss that as we dance.’

CHAPTER FOUR

SHE WOULD DANCE and keep a sensible distance.

Lucas was so big, was that even possible?

Even his mouth was sexy, and, like a magnet, was drawing her in. And then there was his scent: warm, clean man, laced with citrus and sandalwood. Damn him for making her feel as if anything he had to say or do was fine by her. She should have stayed until she’d checked every table for lost items, made sure the staff had all gone to bed, and then departed for her room, too tired to think about Lucas.

Where she would continue her lonely existence? She’d made lots of friends since leaving home, but they had their own lives, and carving a village out of a city as big and diverse as London wasn’t easy. She had achieved her goal in maintaining her independence and progressing her career, but there was a price to pay for everything, and romance had passed her by. It would have been safer not to dance with Lucas, but he was an anchor who reminded her of good things in her past. Teasing and tormenting him, laughing with him, caring for the animals they loved side by side, had bred an intimacy between them went beyond sex. There was a time when she’d rather have had Lucas tell her that he admired her horsemanship than her breasts, and that was still partly true today. In her fantasies, being held safe in his arms was always the best option, but this wasn’t safe. His hands on her body as they danced and his breath on her cheek couldn’t remotely be called safe. It was a particular type of torture that made her want more.

Thankfully, she was stronger than that. ‘So we’ve danced,’ she declared as if her body wasn’t shouting hallelujah, while her sensible mind begged her to leave. ‘It’s time for me to go to bed.’

‘No,’ he argued flatly. ‘You can’t leave now. It would be rude to the musician. He might think we don’t like his music.’

She glanced at the guitarist, who was absorbed in his own world. ‘Do you think he’d notice?’

Luc’s lips pressed down as he followed her gaze. ‘I’m sure he would. Do you want to risk it?’

‘No,’ Stacey admitted. The man had played non-stop during the banquet. Who could deny him his downtime?

‘Good,’ Lucas murmured, bringing her close.

He’d turned her insides to molten honey with nothing more than an intimate tone in his voice, and the lightest touch of his hands. The sultry Spanish music clawed at her soul, forcing her to relax, and, as so often happened when she relaxed, she thought about the mother she’d lost before even knowing her, and those long, lonely nights of uncertainty when she was a child, asking herself what her mother would have advised Stacey to do to please everyone the following day. She’d failed so miserably on that front, and had begun to wonder if she would ever get it right.

‘You’re crying.’ Drawing his head back, Lucas stared at her with surprise. ‘Have I upset you?’

‘No. Of course you haven’t.’ Blinking hard, she shook her head and pasted on a smile.

He captured a tear from her cheek and stared at it as if he’d never seen one before. ‘Perhaps you hate dancing with me,’ he suggested in what was an obvious attempt to lighten the mood.

‘I don’t hate it at all,’ she said quickly, wishing her mouth would stop trembling. This wasn’t like her. She always had her deepest feelings well under control.

‘Then what is the matter, Stacey?’

When Lucas talked to her with compassion in his tone he made things worse. She badly wanted to sob out loud now, give vent to all those tears she’d held back as a child. ‘I really need to go to bed,’ she said, sounding tetchy, which was infinitely better than sounding pathetic. ‘I’m tired.’

‘You really need to dance,’ Lucas argued, tightening his grip around her waist. ‘You know what they say about all work and no play?’

‘Success?’ she suggested with bite.

He refused to be drawn into an argument and huffed a laugh. ‘Even I take time out from work, and so should you.’

Perhaps he was right, she conceded. Being in his arms was so different from what she’d expected that the urge to make the moment last was stronger than ever. She’d been waiting for this all her adult life, and even if the guitarist was doing his best to make her cry, perhaps she needed that too. But not tonight. Tonight was a time for celebration, not tears.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘It’s just that this tune makes me sad.’

‘It’s good to let your feelings out,’ Lucas observed, ‘and I’m glad you feel you can do that with me.’

‘I do,’ she murmured.

He must have given the guitarist a subtle directive, as the mood of the music had changed from unbearably affecting to a passionate, earthy rhythm. They fell into step and began to dance in a way that was far more intimate than before, and as the music climbed to a crescendo it seemed only one outcome was possible. Enjoying Lucas was dangerous because it was addictive. It made her want him in a way that was wholly inappropriate for someone hoping to make an impression on a client.

‘I should go.’ She pulled away while she still had the strength to do so.

‘You should stay,’ Lucas argued, and as the guitarist continued to weave his spell, Lucas brought her close enough for their two bodies to become one. She nestled her face against his chest as if she belonged there, as if there had never been any conflict between them, no gulf at all, as if this was how it should be, as if it was right and good.

Dancing with Stacey was harder than he’d thought. Not because she couldn’t dance, but because she could; because she was intuitive and could second-guess his every move. Stacey was no longer a vulnerable tomboy on the brink of entering an adult world, but a woman who knew her own mind. She’d looked exhausted when she’d finished work, but there was no sign of tiredness now. If anything, she seemed energised as she moved to the music like a gypsy queen. Though she’d looked close to tears when the music had affected her, determination had since returned to her eyes. And fire. She wanted him, and she wasn’t afraid to let him know it.

The ache in his groin was unsustainable. He was seeing her as she was, not as she had been. The urge to feel her naked body under his, to drown in her wildflower scent, and to fist her thick, silky hair as he buried his face in her neck, her breasts—

‘Why don’t you do it?’ she challenged softly.

‘Why don’t I do what?’

‘Kiss me?’ she stated bluntly.

She was hyped up on success and impending exhaustion, which meant treating what she said with restraint. In the morning she’d be his friend’s little sister again, and would wake up with regrets. ‘I’ve got more sense—’

He hadn’t expected such a violent reaction. Springing from his arms, she speared him with a glance, then stalked away. Halfway across the ballroom her stride faltered. Turning to face him, she surprised him even more with an expression that was pure invitation.

Lucas was following and she knew that look on his face. It was the same look as when he chased down a ball in polo, or when a shot of him appeared in the broadsheets after he’d closed some mammoth deal. He was a man on a mission and she was that mission. But they’d meet on her terms and on a ground of her choosing. She’d waited so long for this that her mind was made up. If they only had one night together, she was going to make it the best night of her life. Her body was on fire. He’d done that. Her senses had never been keener. Where Lucas was concerned, she’d been honing them for years. Each erogenous zone she possessed had been teased into the highest state of awareness.

Walking into the now-deserted office that she and the team had been using during the banquet, she left the door ajar. Luc walked in behind her and closed the door securely, before leaning back with a brooding expression on his dangerously shadowed face. ‘It’s been a long time,’ he observed in a drawl as lazy as treacle dripping off a spoon. ‘And now this?’

She started to say something but thought better of it. No explanations. No excuses. No regrets. The tension in the room was rising. Their gazes were locked. There could be no turning back. The room was so quiet she could hear them breathing. It was as if, having waited all this time, they were balanced on the edge of an abyss, and when they plummeted over that edge they’d both be changed for ever.

‘It has been a long time,’ she agreed, starting to walk towards him. ‘Far too long, Lucas.’

There was an answering spark in Luc’s eyes. She was no longer a teenager, or a red-faced intern crushed with embarrassment because she’d ruined his date’s dress, or a tomboy arguing the toss with her brother’s friend; she was a woman and he was a man. On that level, at least, there was no divide between them.

‘Are you sure you know what you’re doing?’ he said as she stood on tiptoe to cup his face.

‘In some ways yes, and in others no,’ she admitted truthfully. ‘Some might say I’m seducing you.’

‘Some?’ he queried. ‘I’m only interested in what you have to say.’

Black eyes plumbed her soul. ‘I want you,’ she admitted, as if her whole life had been leading up to this moment. ‘For one night.’

‘One whole night,’ he said, staring down with a glint of humour colouring his black stare. ‘Half an hour ago you were determined to go to bed.’

‘I still want to go to bed,’ she whispered.

Luc hummed as he glanced around the office. ‘But not here, surely?’

‘Why not?’ All the old doubts came crowding in. Was that a genuine comment, or was Lucas looking for a way out?

‘Because I don’t see a bed,’ he suggested dryly.

He made her decision easy when he brushed her lips with his. ‘A nightcap?’ she suggested. ‘Somewhere a little more comfortable than this?’

He didn’t answer right away. Stacey’s intention was clear. If he accepted there could only be one outcome. He’d resisted temptation where Stacey was concerned for so long he craved sex like a man craving water in a desert. But there was the added complication of his upcoming mountain event. Working side by side would bring them closer still and Stacey could never be some casual fling.

His hunger combined with Stacey’s intention to move things forward fast, and in a very different direction, triumphed over any hesitation he might have had. There was nothing safe about entering into the type of situation she was proposing, since he was a man who would happily entertain risk on the polo field, and sometimes even in business, but who would never risk his heart.

Without another word they headed for his penthouse with Stacey in the lead. If she’d been holding his hand, she’d be dragging him. Linking their fingers, he ushered her into his private elevator, which, conveniently, they found waiting on the ballroom level. The instant the doors slid open he backed her inside. Boxing her into a corner, he linked fingers with her other hand. Raising both hands above her head, he pinned her with the weight of his body so he could tease her lips and torment them both as the small steel cocoon rocketed skywards.

Her hands felt wonderfully responsive in his as she made sounds in her throat like a kitten. There was nothing juvenile about her body. That was all woman.

Teasing her lips until she parted them, he kissed her with the pent-up hunger of years. He’d seen this woman grow and endure, survive, and eventually thrive, so this kiss was more than a kiss, it was a rite of passage for both of them.

She whimpered as he mapped her cheeks, her neck, her shoulders, and finally her breasts with his hands, and when he tormented her erect nipples with his thumbnails, she cried out, ‘Yes… Oh, yes, please…’

‘Soon,’ he promised as the elevator sighed to a halt.

He swung her into his arms the moment the doors slid open. It felt so good. She felt so good. Warm and scented with the wildflower perfume he would always associate with Stacey, she was so much smaller than he was, and yet strong in every way. She was perfect, and he had never felt more exhilarated than when he dropped kisses on her face and neck for the sheer pleasure of feeling her tremble in his arms, and hearing her moan with impatience to be one with him.

He pressed his thumb against the recognition pad at the entrance to the penthouse suite and the door swung open.

‘Crazy,’ she exclaimed as he carried her into the steel, glass and pale wood hallway. ‘How the other half lives,’ she added, glancing around.

There was barely a chance to lower her to her feet in his bedroom before the storm. He couldn’t wait a moment longer and yanked her close as she reached for him. It was like two titans clashing, both equally fierce. The urgent need for physical satisfaction clawed at their senses, demanding they do something about it fast. Stacey growled with impatience as he unzipped her dress and let it drop to the floor in a pool of silk.