Page 20 of One Texas Night...
“I agree,” she admitted, receiving a wide grin from him and knowing she shouldn’t encourage him.
They talked all the way to the mansion, and inside agreed to have hot chocolate and some cookies. Vitality still oozed from him, and she sat and talked, aware the hour was growing really late but hating to end the evening.
Finally she stood, holding her empty mug. “Jared, the sun will be coming up soon. I need to get some sleep.”
He came to his feet, picking up his mug and an empty plate. “All right, darlin’. Let’s go to bed.”
His words evoked the sizzling reaction she was certain he intended.
Ignoring him, she placed her mug in the kitchen sink. He draped his arm lightly across her shoulders as they climbed the stairs. At the door to her room, he turned her to face him, slipping his arm around her waist.
“Tonight was even greater than I expected. It’s good to be with you, Allison.”
“I had a wonderful time, too. I haven’t been dancing like that since college. Thanks for the evening,” she said, thinking how polite they each sounded. Yet as she stood there looking into his green eyes, desire was hot, palpable and tugging at her. When her gaze lowered to his mouth, her heartbeat quickened. In spite of all her reasons to avoid more sensual encounters with him, she wanted to kiss him.
Inhaling deeply, she glanced up to catch him looking at her mouth and then meeting her gaze. She couldn’t wait for him to kiss her. As if she had no control over herself, she moved slightly closer to him, reaching up to place her hand on his shoulder.
“Allison.” His whisper coaxed her closer, his husky tone enveloping her.
Her breath left her as she slipped her hand to his nape and watched him lean toward her. Wanting him more than ever, she closed her eyes. Reason shattered and desire burned while she stepped into his embrace. His arm tightened around her waist. His mouth opened hers, and his tongue played over her lips, before he kissed her deeply in a heart-stopping, breathtaking kiss.
He had to feel and hear her pounding heart. How could a kiss conjure up such magic as to melt her resistance? Wrapping both arms around his neck, she clung tightly, pressing against him even before his hand slipped over her bottom and then pulled her closer.
His hand caressed her throat and gradually slipped lower to unfasten the buttons of her shirt and allow him access. Finally, pushing away her lacy bra, he cupped her breast. His hands were warm, caressing her. Moaning with pleasure, she tugged at the buttons on his shirt and then ran her hand across his chest, tangling her fingers in his thick mat of chest hair.
His passionate kisses deepened while he walked her backward into her suite. Continuing to kiss her, he swept her into his arms to carry her to the bed.
Summoning willpower, she grasped his shoulders. “I can’t, Jared,” she whispered. “This isn’t what I came to do,” she said, wanting him more than she ever had.
He put her down on the bed. His green eyes had darkened with passion while his mouth was red from their kisses. Locks of black hair tumbled over his forehead. His unbuttoned shirt was open, revealing his muscled chest. Longing tore at her to pull him down to the bed, to kiss him senseless and make love for the rest of night.
He slowly straightened, standing in silence to look down at her. “I’ll do what you want,” he whispered. “But someday, you won’t tell me no.”
Her heart thudded. She wanted to toss caution, wisdom, everything aside and risk a broken heart, but she held back. Fighting what she wanted with all her heart, she stared silently at him as he stepped away. His jeans bulged, and he looked like a man interrupted in the throes of making love.
“You know what you want,” he whispered.
She fisted her hands to keep from reaching for him. For another long minute they stared at each other. Then he gave her a sweeping glance and left, closing the door behind him.
She sat up, clinging to the bed, telling herself not to run after him or call out to him. “Let him go,” she whispered to herself. “Let him go.” He would break her heart in every way. She couldn’t deal with his lifestyle, and she couldn’t have a casual affair. At this point in her life, she was ready for marriage. She wondered if he truly would ever be ready for a deep, lasting commitment. As for his lifestyle—his wild hobbies could be devastating. She wanted a quiet, ordinary life with a man who loved her. A man whose biggest risk was to drive on a vacation.
If only she didn’t have this intense, hot reaction to Jared.
Still now her mouth tingled, and her body was on fire. Every nerve sizzled. She wanted his kisses and caresses even more because she already knew the ecstasy of his lovemaking. Why had she found this in Jared, someone so totally unsuitable for her?
Shaking her head, she slipped off the bed and went to shower, moving automatically with her thoughts on Jared and her body still vibrating from his touch. She had more than a week to go with him. Maybe weeks. Should she let go, take some risks herself?
An hour later she lay in darkness, still in torment, continuing to long for him while sleep eluded her. She glanced toward the door. “Are you sleeping, Jared?” she whispered.
* * *
Sunday they flew to Dallas and she took the day off, driving to her condo, which was near her family home. Relieved to be away from Jared and temptation, she left later to spend the evening with her dad.
Early Monday, she’d received a text message from Jared telling her that he had gone to his office and would see her in the late afternoon. She followed his directions to his home, in a gated community of multimillion-dollar estates.
As soon as she gave the gatekeeper her name, large iron gates swung open. She followed the winding drive through an area thick with oaks until the road curved and only a few scattered ones remained in view. All her attention was drawn to the three-story Greek Revival mansion with wings, a wide porch across the front, a portico in the center entrance and tall, graceful Corinthian columns along the porch. The mansion was not what she had imagined Jared would own. She had envisioned something smaller, less breathtaking, less imposing that matched his laid-back personality. He had grown up in a home very much like her own, only a few blocks away from her family home. That was still what she had pictured him living in, not this magnificent mansion.
She parked in front, and the wide door opened. A tall sandy-haired man invited her inside. “Miss Tyler, I’m Stan Pinchly, Marline’s husband. Please call me Stan. If you’ll follow me, Jared has already left for his office.”
