His Sheltering Arms

“What if you’re busy?” she asked, challenge in her tone.

Zach found it harder and harder to concentrate on business. Strong desire stirred down south, and he cautioned himself to maintain control. “I carry a cell phone at all times. If I’m out of reach, one of my other men can handle it. But I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon.”

The comment echoed in the room, suspending the moment. He inched back a step, giving his body some much-needed relief.

Erin turned her attention back to the plan. “Upstairs?”

“The same. Sensors above and on the windows. And more motion-sensitive lights.”

“That’s good. Night is a vulnerable time. But it’s my favorite time.”

He found himself moving closer again, her sultry voice drawing him like a magnet. “You’re a night person, too?”

“If I could I’d stay up all night and sleep all day.”

“So would I.”

Electricity coursed through him and settled directly below his belt. He needed to get away from her soon, or he just might give in to some damned sinful ideas. But his feet seemed stapled to the floor, and he continued to lose himself in the sound of her sexy voice, at his body’s expense.

“How do you spend your nighttime hours?” she asked, but still didn’t turn around.

“TV, reading. Sometimes I pop open a beer and listen to my favorite jazz. And sometimes I cook.” He’d never spoken so freely about his personal life with a woman. He’d learned not to reveal even that much of himself. But Erin Brailey was no ordinary woman.

Her laugh was full of surprise, not judgment. “You cook? That’s great. I can’t operate the microwave.” She glanced back at him again. “Are you good?”

The way she said it made him wonder if the question had more to do with his performance in bed than his culinary talents. Probably just wishful thinking on his part. Either way, the answer was the same. “I’d like to think so.”

She studied the plan again. “I’m sure you are.”

Her whisper-soft words made him think of her in his arms, naked beneath him. “What do you do at night?” he asked.

“Nothing much. A cup of tea and a hot bath.”

The image of Erin soaking in a tub did nothing to squelch his lust. “Alone?” Careful, Miller.

“I believe we’ve already established that.”

“No one to scrub your back?”

“I have a brush. It does the trick.”

The last thread of his control was badly frayed and ready to snap. Yet he didn’t have the will to stop. “But it sure isn’t as much fun as the real thing, is it?”

“That depends on what you mean by the ‘real thing.’”

With every syllable she uttered, Zach’s objectivity took another step toward the door, the excuse he needed to forget his responsibility. Forget why they were here and why he needed to steer clear. “Don’t you get lonely, Erin?”

“Sometimes. A little.” Only a partial truth, Erin acknowledged. She was more than a little lonely. She missed having someone to curl up with on the sofa, someone to have dinner with in front of the TV, the physical presence of a man. And, whether she cared to admit it or not, lovemaking.

But she didn’t miss the emotional upheaval or the betrayal or the control. Still, she found herself wondering how far she was willing to go with a man like Zach Miller, a protector, something she didn’t need. And a business associate to boot. But he made her feel alive. Feel things she had suppressed for months. Maybe she could indulge just a little, from a physical standpoint. As long as she guarded her heart.

Zach’s warm breath trailed over her neck, and she shivered. “Are you cold?” he asked.

“Yes.” Liar.

He stroked his palms down her bare arms, from shoulders to elbows, then back up again. She relaxed against him, relishing his gentle touch. The strength he radiated unearthed long-dormant carnal urges. “This is much better than a hot bath.”

He brushed her hair aside and moved his lips to her ear. “Are you sure about this, Erin?”

“No. I’m only sure about one thing. I’m tired of talking.”

“Then answer one more question. When was the last time you were kissed? I mean really kissed.”

Her breath rode out on a sigh. “Too long.”

“That’s too bad.”

He turned her around, and she met his midnight gaze, intense, hypnotic, seductive. As if in slow motion, he lowered his mouth to hers. She responded with a pent-up hunger that matched his urgency. She opened to him, accepted the play of his tongue as it entered her parted lips. The spicy taste of him staggered her senses, and a surge of heat charged through her, settling in places long neglected for lack of time or want.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew she should stop. Stop him. Stop herself. But she wanted this. More than she’d wanted anything in a long time. She would consider the consequences later. Right now she wanted to feel, not to think.

Disregarding the blueprint, Zach lifted Erin up and placed her on the edge of the table without leaving her eager mouth. He moved between her legs, parting them. She felt her skirt ride high up her thighs, way past the point of decency. Her mind reeled from the explosive chemistry that had destroyed her ability to reason, made her long for more. Here and now.

To her dismay Zach broke the kiss but kept his hands poised on her stocking-clad thighs and his dark gaze locked on her face. He inched his fingers under the hem, taking away her breath and her last bit of resolve.

“Tell me to stop, Erin.”

The word formed in Erin’s mind, then floated away like a delicate leaf caught in the wind.

Zach plied her neck with brushstroke kisses. “I want you, Erin. Now. So tell me to leave.”

“No.” She barely recognized her voice. She barely recognized herself.

With an animal groan Zach brought her hips forward to the edge of the table, and his mouth back to hers. Her awareness centered on his thumbs lightly stroking her thighs, his intoxicating kiss. The heavy pulse of desire washed her whole body in liquid heat, robbing her of all thoughts and protests.

Madness, she thought. Absolute madness that she would allow this to happen here, when anyone could walk in. But an uncontrollable need had brought them to this point. A place where only passion existed, away from past mistakes. For once Erin wanted to lose control.

Erin registered a sound filtering through the sensual haze. Then from somewhere far off came a rap at the door.

Three

“Erin, are you in there?”

Gil’s familiar voice was ice water, dousing Zach’s ardor. Running on instinct, Zach stepped back and helped Erin from the table. He pulled out a nearby chair and sat, needing to disguise the effect the spontaneous foreplay had on his body. He scooted the chair under the table and straightened the wrinkled blueprint as best he could, a reminder of his total loss of control. Erin Brailey was making him crazy.

In a flash Erin smoothed her dress and sent him a concerned look as she walked to the door. “Come in, Gil.”

Gil Parks stepped inside the room wearing his standard blue suit and an accountant’s expression. “I needed—” His glance went from Zach to Erin, then back to Zach. He pushed his wire-framed glasses up on the bridge of his nose. A knowing smile lifted his lips. “Miller, fancy meeting you here.”