A Thrill to Remember by Lori Wilde

blue eyes, made even more powerful by the erotic frame of his black leather mask.
    Her stomach fluttered. A jolt of pure, raw sexual energy rushed through her and her world narrowed, shifted into agonizing slow motion.
    Stomp, stomp, stomp. The noise of his boots striking the marble floor was sharpened and elongated, echoing loudly in her ears with each resounding step. His black hair was wildly tousled. The material of his silky shirt rippled when he walked, fluid as water. His gaze was locked on hers and she was helpless to look away, even to move. In what seemed both an eternity and a mere whisper of a second, he was at her side.
    My God, he was handsome.
    He reached out and wrapped a hand around her right elbow. The pressure of his fingers caused her to disintegrate into a quivering mass of organic matter. His body heat muddled her brain.
    When the two of them came in contact it could only be described as chemistry, electrical conductivity, spontaneous combustion. Oh, how seriously pathetic to be reduced to bottom-level biological rubble by a man.
    He slipped a key card into her palm, then pressed his lips to her ear and whispered in his robust Spanish accent, “Come to room 716 as soon as you can get away. I will be waiting.”

    THIRTY MINUTES LATER, a short, firm rap sounded at the door of room 716.
    Forcing himself to remain calm and in control, he let her knock again before pulling open the door to find Catherine the Great leaning against the doorjamb looking like a billion bucks.
    He was about to speak, to say something comforting to soothe their nervousness, when she took him totally and utterly by surprise. Meggie splayed a palm across his chest and pushed him back as she stepped over the threshold. With one delicately slippered foot, she slammed the door closed behind them at the same time as she wadded his shirt in her fist and pulled him forcefully toward her. Her green eyes lit up like a lynx’s and she pounced on him, growling softly. His knees went weak with lust and he felt a curious tingling sensation in the back of his throat. She planted a kiss on him with such ravenous aggression that he found himself propelled backward onto the bed. She followed, melding her mouth to his, straddling his prone body and tugging his shirt from his waistband, all in one smooth move.
    Her brazenness bowled him over. Holy buried treasure. What had he wrought?
    He was both pleased and disconcerted by her overt onslaught. This wasn’t the sensible, restrained Meggie Scofield he’d known his whole life. This was the lusty, uninhibited wench from his fantasies.
    Wait a minute. Maybe he was dreaming all this. Maybe he should pinch himself.
    But no, she was nibbling on his bottom lip with her straight white teeth, and it felt very real indeed. Apparently their role-playing had unleashed a long-dormant tempest within her.
    She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressed her body against the length of him and eagerly ran her tongue over his lips.
    No. Wait. Stop the presses. This wouldn’t do. At the rate she was moving, he wouldn’t last five minutes.
    Reaching up, he untangled her hands from his hair at the same time he disengaged his mouth from hers. He lifted her off him, placed her to one side and sat up.
    “Sweetheart,” Caleb crooned. “Slow down. This isn’t a race.”
    She pulled back, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She blinked and then a red flush ran up her neck to color her cheeks.
    “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I’ve never acted like that.”
    He pulled her to him. “Shh…don’t be embarrassed. I liked it. We just need to slow down.”
    “You’re right.” She nodded. “I guess I was just wanting to get to it before I lost my courage.”
    Aw hell.
    Was she trying to rush through sex with him just to get it over with? Was she trying to prove something to herself, using him as a means to her end?
    He took her hand. “I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to