A Not-So-Innocent Seduction by Janice Maynard Page A

reached for her. “You mesmerized me with your singing. One kiss. That’s all I need.”
    It was a lie. He knew it and she knew it. What he wanted would take all night. Given their semi-public location, he held her loosely, not wanting to embarrass her if another guest decided to walk by. He slid both hands beneath her hair, inhaling her scent as he bent his head and found her mouth. “You were amazing,” he muttered, moving his lips over hers with light, teasing motions.
    Zoe went up on tiptoe, her arms twined around his neck as she kissed him back. “That’s sweet of you to say.”
    “I’m not a sweet man.” He caught her tongue between his teeth and nipped it to prove his point. Zoe’s soft moan hit him hard, stealing the breath from his lungs and weakening his knees, even as another part of him went hard as stone. He shook with the need to take her up against the wall.
    “Come to my room,” she whispered.
    He froze, sensing some kind of test, or perhaps a trap. “I can’t,” he said hoarsely. “Not now. Not tonight. I’m past talking.” He cupped her butt in those body-hugging jeans and squeezed it. “If I get you alone, there’s only one thing that’s going to happen. Fair warning.”
    She tilted her head to look up at him, her guileless blue eyes impossible to read. “I don’t have a problem with that, Mr. Kavanagh.”
    The time for rational thought was long past. He had been imagining this moment since the first instant she stepped through the door of his hotel. What did it matter if her presence was only temporary? Why did he care if she was frustrating and secretive and slept in her van and had loads of hidden cash and people looking for her?
    He wanted her. He needed her. And by God, he was going to have her.
    Taking her by the hand, he grabbed the guitar case and strode down the hall, dragging Zoe in his wake. It took her several seconds to rummage in a small bag for her key. He didn’t bother to tell her he had a master key that gained him access to every room in the hotel. This way was better.
    Inside her room, he set her instrument in front of the closet and leaned against the door, doing his best not to pounce on her. Her red blouse was rumpled, her hair mussed. “I suppose you want a shower,” he said, trying to be the gentleman his mother had taught him to be.
    Zoe grimaced. “I need one. But there’s room for two.”
    His vision hazed. Hands trembling, he stared at her. “You have to be sure, Zoe. No backing out at the last minute. It’s okay to say no, but I want to hear it now.”
    She frowned, the movement creating two small lines in her forehead. “I believe I invited you to my room. That’s a pretty clear signal in my book.”
    “We’re practically strangers.”
    “I don’t care.”
    “You’re not sure you can trust me.”
    “And vice versa. But this is about sex.”
    “And if either of us wants more?”
    “Do we have to worry about that now?”
    The warning bells clanged in his head, but he closed his ears. “I suppose not.”
    She unbuttoned her blouse and let it fall to the floor. Her breasts were barely concealed by a lacy crimson bra. Against her pale skin, the color glowed like fire. “Last one in is a rotten egg,” she said, smiling as she uttered the childhood taunt.
    Something kicked in at that moment, some primeval urge to hunt and conquer. “Zoe,” he warned. But it was too late. She had already disappeared into the bathroom. By the time he came to his senses and followed, she was completely naked, standing beneath the pelting water in the open shower. Droplets of water clung to her pert, pink nipples.
    Though her actions indicated confidence, in her wary gaze he saw a diffident insecurity, as though even now she wasn’t sure of his motives. Never taking his eyes off her, he stripped clumsily, stumbling against the counter when one leg of his pants caught on his shoe.
    He stopped short of removing his boxers, because he was far too close to an