Chapter 20 20
"At least they're not the really bad ones." Stefan winked at the baby, then headed toward the bathroom, pleased that Alana was more at ease around him. She'd been like an edgy cat for the past few days. Ever since he'd kissed her outside her office building. He'd been more than tempted to try that again, but her avoidance told him that no matter the effect, she'd considered it a breach of trust.
He was drying off and pulling on his jeans when he realized his shirt was beyond hope. Going shirtless the rest of the evening was unacceptable. He'd have to go back to Emily's for fresh clothes. A knock sounded and he pulled open the bathroom door.
Alana's breath snagged at the sight of his bare chest and damp hair. She held up a T-shirt. "It's yours. You must have left it here and it got tossed in with… It's clean. I thought since the other was dirty…well, here."
She shoved it at him, irritated with herself that she was suddenly unable to speak around him. He took it. Smiling, he stepped into the hall.
She didn't turn away. She didn't move. It wasn't just the muscle and the sexy way he was looking at her, it was the man. In the past two weeks she'd learned more about Stefan than she ever thought she could. And it was getting to her. He was getting to her. And the kiss they'd shared was just a kiss, but it had made a lasting impression. A lingering one.
"I like it when you look at me like that," he murmured.
The sexy tone of his voice should have alerted her. "Like what?"
"Like you did in the elevator when you put my hand under your gown."
"I'm just giving you a shirt, Stefan."
"Uh-huh." He took a step and loomed.
"For a man who deals in accurate details, you sure are reading more into this than there is."
"Am I?"
"Fine. Have it your way. Dinner's ready."
"Good. I'm starved," he said, staring at her mouth.
She could almost taste him, wanted to taste him, dammit. "Well, it's hot."
She started to move away, and he caught her, his hand sliding over her waist and wrapping her like warm silk. "Me, too."
Her hands went to his chest, her heartbeat tripping over itself. She could barely catch her breath. "This isn't wise."
"I can take only so much tiptoeing around you, Alana." He didn't let her go.
She didn't push away. "I'm a big girl. You don't have to tiptoe."
"Darlin', I'm glad to hear that." He tilted his head and laid his mouth over hers.
The contact created combustion, and the flames licked around them both.
Her arms slid up his chest and around his neck. Alana held on. And Stefan fed the fire.
He molded, he toyed, he played with her senses until she thought she'd scream with the sheer pleasure of it. Her body came alive, nerve endings suddenly raw and revved for his touch. There was nothing subtle in his kiss, nothing restrained. If Stefan wanted to show her that in this, nothing had changed…he'd done so. In spades.
Need rocketed through her as he devoured, nipped, licked, his hand sliding down her spine and pulling her hips to his. The sharp contact sent a moan spiraling out of her, blooming vibrant and hot with the memory of how this man could wield enormous power over her desire. He owned it, and when his hand rode up her side to slide over her breast, she almost cried out with want.
Then Juliana did.
The sound ripped them apart, and just for a second Alana stared up into his eyes, smoky with desire. She felt her insides give another small tremble, then she tore her gaze from his and went running on shaky legs toward her daughter. The baby stopped crying the instant she saw her mother, and Alana sank into a chair, relieved.
She struggled to catch her breath. Oh, she was a fine one to talk about restraint and being friends. Here she was making deals with Stefan to be parents only, and she was falling into his arms at the sight of his bare chest.
Stefan stepped into the kitchen, pulling on his T-shirt, then as if he didn't know what to do with his hands, he raked them through his short hair.
Alana knew he was there. He could sense her shoulders tightening an instant before she pushed out of the chair and went to the oven.
Stefan moved up behind her, waiting until she'd lifted out the bubbling pan before he said, "I scare you, don't I?"
She hesitated, setting the pan on the stove, then let out a long-suffering sigh. "Yes."
"Why?"
"What do you want me to say, Stefan? That I don't come apart at the seams when you so much as touch me? News flash, it just happened."
"I wasn't exactly a doormat, you know."
"God, do I," she said without thinking, and he laughed shortly.
"You turn me inside out."
She spun around sharply, meeting his gaze. "That's why we shouldn't be… you know." She waved the spatula toward the hallway.
"Trying to smother each other with our lips! Groping like teenagers?" he asked.
She reddened. "Well, that puts it in perspective."
He smiled, moving closer and loving the flare in her eyes. "Anyway you shake it, darlin', it's still there."
And so dangerous, she thought. If anything, those moments in the hallway reminded her that they were combustion waiting to happen and that she'd nearly forgotten her daughter in the face of her own need "I know. But sex isn't everything."
"It's a nice start."
Men, she thought, unable to stop her very supreme-female smile. They think first with their anatomy, then their hearts. "Okay, yes, I'll agree that in bed we were a great match. But is that all you want in a marriage? A name on a piece of paper and a partner in bed?"
Alana dished up the meal onto plates and brought them to the table. When Juliana fussed, Stefan set her in her high chair and gave her a cracker.
"No, it's not. But I think we have the makings of something stronger."
Stefan wanted to tell Alana that she scared him worse than facing down enemy weapons with only one clip left in his magazine. He felt helpless around her and he wondered if she really knew what she did to him with just one of those innocent "oh, really" kind of looks she got when she was skeptical.