Aces High by Kay Hooper

though she was too familiar by now with his suspicious nature to be much hurt by it. “I told you there hasn’t been anyone else.”
    “And I believed you. I wonder if I should have.”
    She gazed at him steadily. “That’s up to you.”
    His hands lifted to her face as they so often did, holding her still for his searching scrutiny as if she were trying to escape him. “Where do you go?” he muttered.
    She blinked, but couldn’t answer the question even if she’d understood it. He kissed her before she could speak, his mouth hot and demanding. Katrina had been conscious of a languid physical weariness until then, but at the first touch of his lips, sharp energy went through her like a jolt of electricity and her body came alive. She felt it all over, her breasts swelling, nipples tightening, a burst of heat deep in her belly, and her legs went weak and began trembling.
    In an abrupt movement Skye ended the kiss, raising his head and staring down at her. His nostrils were flaring in a look that was almost savage, and when he released her and stepped back, his vivid eyes raked her body in a hard appraisal.
    Katrina knew that her thin terry robe hid little, that her body’s response to him was obvious. She put out a hand to the window frame to steady herself, looking at him with helpless longing. Did his hard face soften? She couldn’t be sure.
    “Now ask me to stay,” he ordered in a dark and velvety voice.
    “Stay.” It was less a question than a plea, and her voice was almost inaudible, shaking. He could, she thought dimly, have the triumph if he wanted it.
    Skye lifted one hand and cupped her cheek briefly. “I’ll go and get my things.” He turned away from her and, without bothering to put on shoes or a shirt, left her suite.
    She stood where she was for a long moment. It was odd, she thought, but he hadn’t seemed triumphant at her total inability to withstand him. Satisfied, yes, but mixed with that very male complacency had been something else, something she couldn’t identify. Hurt? But that didn’t make sense…unless he was beginning to care for her.
    Katrina felt her heart almost stop. Was it possible? He was too complex to read easily; despite his quick temper and seemingly volatile mood swings, she knew that much of Skye lay beneath his compelling surface. Six years before he had been quick to voice his love, even impetuous in his words and actions, sweeping her along on an irresistible tide. But this older, more complicated man, she thought, was far more guarded and wary than he had been then. She had hurt him badly once, and even if she had somehow managed to touch his heart this time, he wouldn’t be quick to admit it.
    The realization gave Katrina a surge of hope, until she remembered what he had said to her only days before.
    I did everything I could to forget you. Everything. But nothing worked, and I hated myself for that. You’ve been my own personal demon for six years, Katrina, locked inside me too deeply to be torn out.
    Her hope faded. He had talked of obsession, she thought, not love. And he had not said or done anything since then to make those words meaningless. He had asked for a second chance, yes, and had bided his time with unusual patience. And he was clearly determined to make certain she couldn’t ignore her own need for him. But no word of caring had passed his lips, and he had neither made promises nor asked for any.
    I hated myself for that.
    Could she ever be anything to him except an obsessive need he was bent on ridding himself of?
    Katrina shook off the painful question and went slowly into her bedroom. She remade the bed with fresh linens and picked up the clothing still lying haphazardly on the floor. His shirt smelled of him, faintly musky, and she wanted to bury her face in it.
    Idiot.
The inner scorn was unreal, and she knew it. She felt greedy in her love, desperate to take everything she could, to store memories in her mind and heart. Grimly she hung on