“Blue,” he replied with mock ruefulness.”But it is charged with a lot of horsepower.” She laughed, deliriously aware of his fingers enclosing hers, forging a link that was not about to let her slip away from him. A brief separation came as they paused on their way out of the restaurant to pay for the dinner, but once that was done, Peter instantly recaptured her hand and maintained the connection while they walked along together.
It was Friday night and Oxford Street was thronged with people intent on having a good time at the end of their working week. Despite the boisterous crowd milling around them, they moved in a space of their own, as though the big man beside her generated a force-field that kept others from touching them. They occupied a magic circle, Erin thought fancifully, refusing to think about where they were going, revelling in the exhilarating sense of not knowing what might come next.
They turned a corner.”Parking stable in the next block,” Peter informed her, still enjoying the fiction she had fall en in with.
Her feet wanted to dance. She did feel like Cinderel a, miraculously going to the prince’s ball.”I wonder if we can stop the clock from striking twelve,” she said whimsically.
“Are you planning on running away at midnight?”
“That’s when this day ends,” she reminded him, secretly hoping that the adventure they were embarking upon would keep its exciting fascination for both of them.
“I do have a glass slipper up my sleeve,” he said with arch confidence.
“You do?”
He grinned.”I know where you work so I can find you again.”
She didn’t work at the preschool, but he could find her through her aunt if he really wanted to. A fountain of joy was bubbling through her as they entered the parking station. She felt no trepidation whatsoever about accompanying him anywhere at all. It seemed to her that a fairy godmother had waved her wand, ordaining their coming together, because however unlikely it was, they were meant to meet.
This lovely sense of a benign Fate was abruptly shaken when Peter led her to a royal-blue BMW Z4 sports convertible. It was too coincidental for her to be personally confronted by two such cars on the same day. Her heart quivered with shock as her mind made the obvious connection.
She turned to Peter, her eyes searching for the truth in his.
“It was you at the pedestrian crossing near the preschool.”
“Yes, it was,” he acknowledged without the slightest hesitation.
“And then…then you just happened to drop in at that park?”
“No. Your smile drew me there.”
“My smile…”
Bright red danger flashes were popping in her mind. This was crazy. A man as powerful as Peter Ramsey stopping for a woman he thought was a preschool teacher? It was too far out…too…
His hand was suddenly cupping her cheek, its warmth arousing an instant pleasure in his touch. She automatically leaned into it. His fingers gently stroked her temple, somehow soothing the tumult his words had triggered. He smiled, making it seem perfectly reasonable that a smile could have immense drawing power. Her throat had seized up. She was speechless, staring at the unmistakable glitter of desire in his eyes—desire for her, no longer hidden—desire intent on being satisfied.
His head was bending down, coming closer.
He was going to kiss her.
A moment before his lips touched hers, one last panicky thought broke through the mesmerised state of acceptance—what kind of man would do all Peter Ramsey had done to get to this moment with her…just from seeing her in the street?
Chapter 5
Erin’s heart was gall oping. The light brush of his lips against hers caused an electric buzz. She ceased to think. The tip of her tongue darted out to sweep over the acute sensation. He sucked it into his mouth, instantly turning the kiss into a deeply intimate connection.
She felt him lift her hand to his shoulder, felt the fingers that had been stroking her face slide into her hair, felt his arm slide around her waist.
Then her body was being pressed against his and it felt so good to be held there, her soft femininity revelling in his hard strength, her breasts swelling ecstatically across the hot, muscular wall of his chest, a wild excitement coursing through her stomach at the unmistakable evidence of his desire, her thighs quivering at the tension in his, the sense of melting into him spreading right through her as the kiss went on and on, erotically gathering an urgent passion that was totally beyond any experience she’d ever had of kissing.
She wasn’t aware of thrusting her own hand into his hair, holding his head down to hers, wasn’t aware that her other hand was clamped to his back, doing its utmost to increase the pressure of their embrace. Only when Peter’s mouth broke from hers did she become conscious of her own lustful complicity in what he had started.
“I want you very badly, Erin Lavel e.” Words bursting through ragged breathing.
“Yes,” fell from her lips before she gathered wits enough to know what she was saying.
“Into the car,” came the gruff command.
Erin felt like a bundle of jelly. Peter virtually scooped her into the passenger seat of the BMW, deftly fastening her seat belt before closing her door and striding around the bonnet to the driver’s side. She dazedly wondered how he could summon so much forceful purpose when her body seemed to have lost all sense of co-ordination.
He whooshed into the seat beside her, charging the air inside the car with his highly active energy. The powerful engine of the sports convertible thrummed into life. He flashed a grin at her.”Will you be worried about your hair getting blown about if I put the hood down?”
“No,” she said, thinking a cooling breeze might help glue her back together.
Peter pressed a button and the hood lifted up and disappeared behind them.
Then they were off, heading out of the parking station, driving into the night.
Red traffic lights stopped them at the Oxford Street intersection. Pedestrians streamed across the road in front of them. People looked at the car, just as she had earlier today, looked at the occupants to check what they were like.
Was Peter eyeing the women as they passed?
She glanced sharply at him.
He wasn’t smiling at any of them. His attention was trained on the traffic lights, waiting for them to turn green. Impatient to get where they were going? He either caught her glance out of the corner of his eye or sensed her unease.
“What?” he asked, his gaze spearing to hers, the blue eyes alert to a possible problem.
The sense of taking a huge risk with him made her blurt out,” Is it a game with you, picking out a woman who’s outside your social circle and