His look was soft and gentle and understanding and manly. He would honor her request.
Damn.
They finished the second cup of coffee in silence. He seemed content, drawn inward. Amanda was a mess. Why did she have to put her feelings on the line? Because it was important that she not be misunderstood this time. The guy in Pittsburgh she had almost married had pushed. It was important that Marc know how much she cared, but that she didn’t like being forced.
Yeah, right.
“IT’S RAINING!” The doorman spread his hands in resignation. “I’m sorry, sir, the taxis have all been engaged.”
Marc peered into the rain. “It doesn’t look too bad. Probably be over in a little while. You wanna go back in for a…” Suddenly his face lit up. “Pick one.” He gestured toward the line of hansom cabs. “We’ll take a ride around the park in the rain ‘til it stops. Romantic, huh? I’ll tell you the story of my life without any distractions. Not much space, though.”
She grimaced. “Marc’s that awfully expensive for…”
He swept his arm toward the carriages again. “Clip, clop. Drip, drop. Just like Fred and Ginger.”
The doorman smiled. “I’ll go get one for you, if you like.”
She couldn’t disappoint Marc’s eager look. “The white carriage.”
The handsome dark horse, its brushed coat steaming in the cool rain, pulled the white two-wheeled hansom cab up to the steps. The doorman stepped out to help Amanda and Marc in. The young man driving looked pleased that he had a fare and not at all concerned that rain was running off his rather battered high silk hat and incongruous down jacket.
Marc and Amanda snuggled under the blanket inside as the cab clip-clopped its way across the street and into the park.
Marc was as excited as she. “Neat, huh?” He slid an arm around her and held her close, his eyes shining as he glanced around at the retreating lights of the city.
Mercurial. One moment a sophisticated man of the world, the next an excited young adventurer. How secure he acted as the model, how efficient in routing the intruder at her apartment, how professional with the gun, how understanding of Cissy, how concerned about Amanda’s anxiety toward her friends.
She snuggled closer to the warm, powerful presence beside her, listening to the spring rain pattering on the carriage roof. The park was magical with the shimmering glow of street lamps glittering through the curtain of rain drops with the city veiled in the distance.
She looked up into the face of pure adoration. His square jaw descended, his moist lips parted and pressed against hers gently, tenderly and then more firmly, with greater urgency. Her mouth melted against the capturing pressure. Her body curled into the powerful coil of his embrace.
Amanda’s heart thrummed in her chest responding to Marc’s escalating pulse. Her whole body became electric.
A warm, muscular probe delicately thrust through her lips and touched her own in the blended caves of their mouths. Then as she welcomed him with responding strokes, he began to aggressively explore. His strength surged through her, firing her senses.
He pressed her body closer under the sheltering blanket, his movement more fevered. Through their clothing, the thud of his heart pounded against the fluttering of Amanda’s. Their bodies seemed to blend. Amanda flowed into his embrace, allowing herself to be taken. She held him tight, taking him.
His hands touched her face. He framed her flushed cheeks with his strong palms and held her firmly to his mouth, drinking her in. Inhaling her.
A flash of lightning strobed the sky, shocking Amanda’s eyes open. The streaking raindrops froze, the glittering trees showering them from their overburdened leaves were outlined with slashes of white. She waited for the crash of thunder, her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling the neatly combed hair. The distant rumble rolled nearer and nearer, more ominous, then faded.
She felt his assertive hands slide to her back, holding her close, gliding quickly from one position to another, impressing the shape of her body into his palms and arms. They moved around to her breasts, circling tentatively, stroking gently over the soft mounds, his fingers exploring the soft flesh.
His heart was pounding, his breath coming in raspy gasps.
Amanda forced herself to pull away from Marc’s encompassing lips. She inhaled cold, fresh oxygen hoping to bank the fires raging through her body. His scent almost shattered her resolve. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, brushing her hair aside with his fevered cheek, stroking the moist skin with his tongue. Sparks raced around her scalp setting off an explosion of nerve endings that ignited throughout her body.
She must give him some indication that this could not go on…
Thank God his exploring hands had stopped setting fire to her. His breath came in short gasps against her cheek. His body trembled with the force of his self-control. Reluctantly, he forced himself away from her.
In the darkness, she could make out his questioning eyes, his face frozen in a hard, contemplative look. The heat in Amanda’s body chilled as the rain drummed on the protective carriage overhang and the distant thunder grumbled farther and farther away.
His look softened and turned inward, his chest rose and fell more evenly.
He looped his arm over her head and pulled her tight against him again, possessively territorial, tucking the blanket protectively around her. She leaned her moist brow against his hot cheek. He pulled a long, deep draft of air into his lungs.
“You smell like spring.”
The ache in Amanda’s heart was palpable. She felt empty. As though she had been presented with a precious jewel that had evaporated in her grasp.
“It’s that wet dog smell. Gets ‘em every time.”
“Got me.” She could hear the smile in his voice.
The ache began to ease. The outline of the jewel began to re-emerge, tentative, making an effort at reformulating itself. She curled her hand into his comfortable grasp as she fitted her body more firmly against his chest.
Her lips felt bereft.
She turned her face to his. His pupils were black and bottomless.
“You think we could do that first part again… now that we know where to stop?” In her head she had intended the quip to be joking, worldly, sophisticated. In the harsh reality of sound, fighting to be heard over the crunch of the wheels against the wet asphalt and spattering raindrops and the drown of distant city traffic, the words came out more plaintive than she had intended, more tremulous.
She frowned and turned her head away.
His breath was hot against the delicate skin behind her earlobe. His tongue traced the shell of her ear and then the line of her chin until it found her lips and once again they were passionately savoring each other.
The line had been drawn and he wasn’t stepping over it. Just as she had asked. The perfect gentleman. He, too, seemed to have realized…
His lips were like nectar, his embrace totally comforting. Just what she had decreed.
And her warring inner voices were total silent. Both satisfied.
Then why was she able to feel so wonderfully blissful and yet at the same time so terribly frightened she might have just made one of the biggest mistakes of her life?
Chapter 9
AT THE midtown gym, Marc grabbed the barbells, lay back on the incline bench and began to do free weight chest exercises.
His young trainer mumbled something about form and glazed over until he could be of more use to his morning client.
The man’s entire focus in life is his body and how many broads he’s laid and this morning I’ve managed to shut him up with my amazing ‘positive’ vibes.
Marc glumly raised the barbells from a wide horizontal, spreading his broad chest to a vertical lift, tightening his pectorals and repeated the circuit.