Excitement thrummed through her. She cleared her throat and raised an eyebrow. "Here? I thought we were moving to some place more comfortable. You can hardly call a single bed that."
"Depends who's in it with you." His grin was roguish and made her heart do somersaults. Her bra quickly joined her shirt on the floor. "Now, let's do something about those jeans, huh?"
He knelt, his tongue trailing heat down her stomach. She shivered in delight, anticipation growing. He slid her jeans and panties down her legs, allowing her to step out. Then he delved into her moistness, the caress of his tongue whisper soft and oh-so arousing. She gasped, excitement pulsing through her, until every nerve ending screamed for release. He rose, claiming her mouth again, kissing her hard. Slipped his hand between her legs and stroked her, gently at first, then faster when the tremors began. She moaned, clinging to him, thrusting against his touch, climaxing hard and fast. Wished he was inside, climaxing with her, and yet not wanting it to end so soon.
"Nor shall it," he murmured. "That, my love, was merely an entrée." He kissed her neck, her shoulders, then captured her nipple in his mouth, sucking lightly.
She gasped, and the embers she thought well sated sprang back to life. She pulled away from his touch.
"Then by all means, let's share the entrée."
He arched an eyebrow and raised his hands, a teasing smile on his lips. "My body is yours to play with."
"And a beautiful toy it is, too," she murmured as she knelt.
She slowly undid his jeans and eased them down, taking his shorts with them. Allowed him to step out, then slowly ran her tongue back up his leg and teasingly caressed the hard length of him until heat filled the link and threatened to burn them both.
She rose and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him against her, until the heat of his body seemed to invade every pore. She kissed him urgently, felt his hands cup her bottom and draw her closer, until his erection pressed deep into her stomach.
He kissed her neck, her breasts, trailing fire through her body. She groaned and pushed him back onto the bed, straddling him and pressing him against her moistness. Slowly, teasingly, she rocked back and forth. God, she wanted him inside so bad she ached. But not yet. Not just yet.
He made a needy sound deep in this throat and reached for her, pulling her down against his chest and kissing her hard. She continued to rock, teasing them both, until the flames of desire burned through their minds and threatened to consume them.
Deep within her the trembling was growing, becoming a tide almost overloading her senses. She rubbed harder, heard his response—a quick, sharp gasp. Could feel him quivering and knew he was battling for control.
He released her lips, then ducked his head and caught her nipple, sucking hard. She gasped, and the tide became a wave of pleasure she could no longer hold at bay. Needing him inside, she shifted and captured him fully. He groaned, thrusting urgently, pushing her over the brink into ecstasy. She moaned and rode him hard, until their tremors had finally eased and they both were spent.
She collapsed against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her as if he never meant to let her go. She closed her eyes and wished that were the case. And the doubts rose once more, teasing her insecurities to life.
"Tell me," she said into the silence. "Have you got a girlfriend back home in America? A wife, even?"
For several heartbeats he didn't answer, then he sighed softly. "Thieving was a job, not a philosophy."
She looked up at him. "What has that got to do with the question at hand?"
"Everything." He grabbed her waist and somehow reversed their positions. For several seconds, his gaze searched hers, then he smiled a warm, loving smile that sang through her soul.
"If I make a commitment to someone, I honor that commitment." He cupped her cheek, caressing her lips with his thumb. She didn't move—couldn't move—pinned by the emotion in his eyes as much as the weight of his body. "I've had girlfriends, yes, but the emphasis should be placed on friends. I have never felt the need to take it any further. But after so many years of disbelief and denial, I have discovered I am my father's son after all."
His words confused and, in some sense, frightened her. She frowned. "What do you mean?"
"You need to know where I stand, and I guess I understand that." He hesitated, and the sudden seriousness in his eyes made her breath catch in her throat.
Don't say any more, she wanted to say. I'm just not ready to hear any more. But the words refused to come out, and all she could do was stare at him, an odd mix of yearning and trepidation filling her.
"I have never said this to anyone else. Before now, before I met you, I thought I never would." He hesitated again, and she felt her mouth go dry.
"Marry me," he added softly.
Chapter Sixteen
For several seconds Kirby simply stared at him. Part of her ached to say yes—to grab hold of him while she could and never let him go. But the other half, the part so afraid to trust, stepped back, unable to believe that any emotional commitment made in the midst of danger could be real and lasting. They didn't know each other, damn it. How could he possibly ask such a question after being with her for little more than forty-eight hours?
"Remember my father and grandfather," he said, a smile touching his full lips. "Forty-eight hours is a lifetime when compared to them."
"I can't—" Her voice came out little more than a harsh whisper. She hesitated, swallowing to ease the ache in her throat. "I can't give you an answer. Not now. Not until I'm sure." Sure that she had a future to consider. Sure that what she was feeling was real, and not just a side effect of the situation she found herself in.
"I know. And I don't really expect one. Not now. Not even in the next few weeks or months."
He brushed a kiss across her lips, and warmth shivered through her soul. If this wasn't love, then what the hell was it? She closed her eyes, battling tears. He continued on softly, "But you needed to know what I planned, and now you do. I may have to go back home when all this is finished, but it won't be for long. I intend to come back, and I intend to make you part of my life, no matter how long that takes."
"But what about your work? Surely that's more important."
"Work can wait. I don't care."
"But—" "Hush." He kissed her again, deeper and longer than before.
Longing surged through her, mingling with need.
When he finally pulled away from the kiss, he said, "Worry about the details later. For now, just concentrate on the only question that matters—do you love me? Once you answer that, everything else will fall into place."
"Nothing is that simple," she murmured, wishing that it was.
"I'll make it that simple." He caressed her cheek, gently thumbing away a tear. "Just tell me yes or no."
She closed her eyes. "What if I say no?"
He went still, but pain surged between them, so deep and stark that tears stung her eyes. He obviously feared this might be her answer, despite everything.
"If you say no, then I'll accept that and walk away."
The thought tore at her. While she wasn't sure of her feelings, she was sure of one thing. She couldn't let him walk away. Not yet. Maybe not ever. "I just need time," she repeated softly, more to calm her own fears than his.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and stared into his beautiful eyes. The sheer depth of love and understanding she saw there chased a shiver through her soul. She still wasn't sure if she was even capable of understanding such depths, let alone of returning them. Right now, she didn't even want to think about it. After all, the witch was still out there, and tonight might be all the time they had left together. "So, while I decide whether I'm a coward or not, what are we going to do?"