With effort, Adrian pushed up on her elbows. She’d just broken every one of her rules and she had no one to blame but herself for opening herself up to this aching chasm of vulnerability and need, but she’d be damned if she’d just take. “I want to make love to you. I want to give you what you gave me.”

“You gave me everything…more…more than I ever imagined. I feel great.” Rooke kissed her again and then rose. “You’re half asleep already. I’ll be back in a second.”

“To hell with that. Has anyone ever touched you?” Adrian demanded, sitting upright, refusing to give in to the torpor that sapped her strength. She still had her temper even if her brain had turned to mush. “What are you waiting for?”

Rooke couldn’t answer, couldn’t explain she was waiting for the one thing she couldn’t ask for. “I’m not trying to upset you. Can’t you believe me when I tell you how amazing it was to touch you?”

“What about me, Rooke? What about what I want?”

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“I don’t know, Adrian. What do you really want?”

Adrian fell silent, her gaze locked with Rooke’s. The words Rooke needed to hear, that she wanted to say, wouldn’t come. Their encounter had been so intense, her body, her soul, had been stripped bare. She feared wanting that—feared needing anyone, wanting anyone, so much that she let them inside her defenses. If she surrendered control and let herself care, really care, she would be helpless. And then she would be destroyed. As the seconds passed, Adrian retreated and Rooke must have felt her withdraw. Rooke’s eyes were gentle, but they were also heartbreakingly sad.

“I’m sorry,” Adrian whispered as Rooke finally rose and walked away.

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ChapTER TwEnTy-fOuR

Rooke paced in the middle of her bedroom with her extra pillow and blanket in her arms, trying to sort out where she’d gone wrong. She came up with half a dozen answers—the biggest being that Adrian had told her she needed time, needed to slow down, and Rooke hadn’t listened. She’d indulged herself, lost herself, in the pleasure of pleasuring Adrian. She’d been selfish. Gripping the pillow tighter, Rooke gritted her teeth. Pops’s voice echoed in her head as clearly as it had the very first night when she’d ignored Adrian’s phone call for help. You make a mistake, you make it right.

She could try, although she wouldn’t blame Adrian if it wasn’t enough. When she reached the living room her heart sank. Adrian stood by the sofa, dressed, her coat in her hand. They both spoke at once.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry.”

Rooke stared as Adrian laughed self-consciously.

“You’re leaving?” Rooke asked.

“If you’re feeling all right, there’s really no reason for me to stay.”“I’m fine. I’ll drive you home.”

“No,” Adrian said quickly. “It’s late and you definitely shouldn’t be driving after your accident.” She grinned wryly. “License or not. I’ll call a cab.”

“I want to apologize for what happened,” Rooke said, placing the stack of bedding on the corner of the sofa.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Adrian kneaded her coat, searching through her jumbled thoughts for the right words. “We had

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sex. We’re both adults. I…” She shook her head. “I’ve been wanting to do that pretty much nonstop for a while now. Have sex with you, I mean.

I guess that came through loud and clear. So I’m the one who—”

“You said you wanted to wait,” Rooke said, interrupting what sounded like an apology she did not want.

“My head said that. My body sure didn’t.” Fleetingly Adrian wondered how her heart fit into the equation, but she quickly pushed that aside. She couldn’t deal with any more tonight.

“Your head counts too,” Rooke said softly, “but I didn’t listen to what you said you wanted.”

“You are not totally responsible here. I know I’ve been sending mixed signals.”

“Okay,” Rooke agreed. “Maybe part of you called to me, but I didn’t have to answer.”

“Didn’t you?” Adrian asked, wanting the very answer she feared.

Say yes. Say you wanted me. Say you needed me, had to have me. Say you… Shaken, Adrian viciously stilled the voice that sounded so much like Melinda’s. She sat down abruptly, her legs trembling.

Rooke knelt in front of the sofa, her dark eyes shadowed. “I wasn’t thinking at all. You called to me the way the stone calls to me.

In here.” She touched her chest, remembering the rightness, the stirring of recognition that she couldn’t quite capture. “That’s the language I know.”

Adrian wanted to touch her, but stilled her hand in mid-motion.

She was still completely open, so raw she hadn’t a single barrier left. “I got angry when you wouldn’t let me touch you, and that was completely unfair. You have every right to guard yourself—to decide who touches you and when. I certainly do. It doesn’t matter why, and you do not have to explain it to me.”

“It’s always been that way for me. But I think maybe I was wrong this time.”

“If you were,” Adrian murmured, “you’ll know.”

“Are you still mad?”

Adrian shook her head. “What we had was a marvelous case of miscommunication, on both sides.” She took a chance and caressed Rooke’s cheek. She caught glimpses of steeply banked embers waiting to flare to life, sensed hunger barely sated and a deep, aching need. She was almost disappointed when she couldn’t sense anything beyond the

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now and wondered if she’d lost the ephemeral connection, if all that remained were crumbling stone walls and ghosts.

“You look sad,” Rooke whispered.

“I’m not. Not about what happened earlier. Don’t think for a second it wasn’t incredible.” Adrian smiled unsteadily. “God, better than incredible.”

“For me too.” Rooke pointed to the pillow and blankets. “So will you stay? I know you’re tired. It’s not the most comfortable place in the world to sleep but—”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay.” Adrian couldn’t bear the idea of returning to the huge, cold empty house. Knowing Rooke was in the other room was surprisingly reassuring.

“Thank yo—” Rooke’s cell phone, lying on the coffee table, rang and she automatically picked it up. “Hello?…Hi. No, I’m home.”

Almost eleven. Adrian knew who was calling. She wondered if Melinda called every night, perhaps to wish Rooke sweet dreams. Or dreams that were perhaps not so sweet, but filled as hers were lately with visions of lust and desire. Adrian tried not to listen, but it was impossible.

“No, no problem,” Rooke said. “I had a bit of an accident earlier…

nothing serious. More of a scratch than anything else.”

Rooke glanced at Adrian and signaled one minute with her finger.

“No, really. Adrian came with me. Everything is fine…She’s here.”

Rooke frowned. “I don’t think so. I still have things to do…Okay. I’ll work it out.” Rooke held the phone out and settled on the sofa next to Adrian. “She wants to talk to you for a second.”

“Hello, Melinda,” Adrian said coolly.

Melinda laughed. “Am I interrupting your evening?”

“No, not at all.”

“I’m sending a car for the two of you tomorrow afternoon. I need Rooke here for an promo event midweek and I want to make sure she’s prepared.”

“If it suits Rooke’s schedule, that’s fine with me.”

“Are you taking good care of her?” Melinda asked playfully.

Adrian ruthlessly banished every image of her previous intimacy with Rooke because she wasn’t convinced that Melinda couldn’t read her mind even over the phone. “Just keeping her company. She’s fine.”

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“Are you in bed?”

Adrian’s throat closed and she almost couldn’t answer. “No, not that it’s any of your—”

“Pity. I know what I’d be doing if I were there alone with her. And what she’d be doing to me.”

What makes you think Rooke is yours for the taking? Adrian set her teeth to keep the words inside. She could hardly challenge Melinda with Rooke sitting next to her.

Melinda chuckled. “For such a beautiful, sensuous woman, you’re terribly afraid of your own desire.”

“Thank you for making the travel arrangements.” Adrian bit off each word, then handed the phone back to Rooke. “Here.”

Looking surprised, Rooke took the phone. “Melinda? Anything else?…I’ll call you when I arrive. Good night…Thanks, you too.”

Rooke disconnected. “You know, if tomorrow is bad for you, I can go down by myself.”

“Tomorrow’s fine.”

“I’ll check your house when I take you home in the morning. I asked Dom earlier today to stop by if the weather gets bad again before we return.”

“Good. Thanks.”

Rooke frowned. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Adrian said abruptly . Only that I’ve slept with you and it was amazing and that should be enough, but it isn’t. Oh yes, and Melinda wants you and, unlike me, she definitely won’t be afraid to show you.

v

How she could be so aroused when her limbs were so heavy, her mind so lethargic? Adrian struggled, torn between escaping the hands that caressed her breasts and belly, stoking the white-hot flames that licked between her thighs, and wanting to spill her pleasure into the mouth that tormented her.

You know what you want, why are you fighting it? Why are you fighting us?

“No,” Adrian murmured, caught in the depths of hungry green eyes. “Not this way.”

Warm lips glided over hers, an insistent tongue demanded entrance,

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and between her legs, a hot mouth coaxed her to climb onto the pyre and burn. She couldn’t remember why she shouldn’t surrender. She wanted to come, needed to come. Back arched, she offered her breasts to the silky fingers that teased and twisted her painfully engorged nipples.

Remember how it felt when you came in her mouth. How the ecstasy flooded through you and all you felt was mindless bliss.

She fought to hold back, breasts throbbing, distended clitoris aching. Her stomach contracted and she bowed in the arms of the woman plundering her mouth. An unexpectedly tender hand caressed her face and cradled her head against lush, full breasts. She moaned, lifting to the lips that kissed her sex, the tongue that licked her.

“I can’t…”

Look down, darling. See how she takes you with her mouth. Let her make you come. Watch her drink your passion. You know how much you want it.

Rooke’s hands, holding her open, exposing her. Dark eyes so fathomless she could sink beneath their surface and drown in the endless pleasure. She whimpered, impaled on twin spikes of arousal, devoured by emerald and obsidian eyes. She couldn’t hold back, didn’t want to hold back. Never had surrender felt so sweet.

My hands, her mouth…say yes. Let her have your passion. Let me drink yours.

Wrong, wrong somehow. Not what she wanted. But oh God, she needed—

“What?” Adrian gasped, jerking upright on the sofa. Flat gray winter light suffused the room and Rooke knelt on the floor beside her.

Adrian pulled the blanket close around her. She was naked—when had she taken her clothes off? “What happened…Rooke?”

“Adrian,” Rooke whispered. “I’m sorry, I thought I heard…”

Oh my God, Adrian thought, her face flushing with embarrassment.

Oh God, please tell me she didn’t hear any of that. She hadn’t climaxed, and for that she was grateful. Strangely, she felt the grip of the dream arousal receding faster than it ever had. But then, she’d never awakened with Rooke beside her. Impulsively, she gripped Rooke’s bare arm below the sleeve of her T-shirt and blessed calm infused her. That had never happened before either. Hoping she sounded somewhat normal, she asked, “Did I wake you? Was I talking in my sleep?”

“No,” Rooke replied, looking perplexed. “I was asleep, at least I

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think I was. And I thought I heard you call my name. I thought you…

needed me.”

Adrian tried to smile, but she knew she was shaking and probably couldn’t pull it off. “Thank you for coming, then.”

“I’m sorry I woke you for nothing.”

“Oh no,” Adrian said almost breathlessly. “Not for nothing. It’s definitely time for me to get up.”

“I don’t think so.” Rooke leaned closer and cupped Adrian’s chin, tilting her face until the pale light illuminated it. “The shadows under your eyes are darker. You didn’t sleep well.”

“Remember what I told you about commenting on a woman’s appearance when she’s not at her best,” Adrian said.

“I remember, and what I said is still true. You’re beautiful.” Rooke skated her thumb over the arch of Adrian’s cheekbone. “But something’s wrong. What can I do?”