His Brand of Passion by Kate Hewitt Page B

upstairs?’
    ‘Yes, of course.’ She straightened, embarrassed now at how she’d been cuddling into him. ‘I can hardly have you carry me into your building.’
    ‘I could,’ he said, and she found herself smiling.
    ‘I’m sure you’re strong enough. But, if you thought having your assistant buy a dress would bring on the gossip, sweeping me into your building Rhett Butler style would be much worse.’
    ‘That doesn’t matter,’ he said abruptly and she wished she hadn’t said anything—wished she’d let that surprising tenderness they’d found inside the limo stretch on. Now she just slipped her feet into the pinching heels.
    The crisp night air was enough to wake her up completely, and by the time they reached the lift Zoe was conscious of something palpable between them, something confused and yet electric, caught between the intimacy of their moments in the car and the tension that always seemed to spring up between them.
    She was achingly aware too of the last time she’d been in a formal dress and Aaron had worn formal clothes. They’d rode the lift up in silence just like they were doing now, and she’d walked into his apartment and stared out at the night sky while he kissed her neck…
    Was he remembering that night? Was he feeling it, wanting it like she was? Or was that just her hopeless fantasy?
    She cleared her throat, the sound as loud as a gunshot in the confined space of the lift. The doors swooshed open and Zoe stepped into the penthouse, wanting to escape the confines of the lift and the expectations and memories that left her breathless and desperate with need.
    The stiletto heel of her shoe caught in the gap between the lift and the floor, and she pitched forward with a sudden, indrawn gasp. Then Aaron’s arms were around her, righting her, hauling her to safety against his chest.
    She stared up at him, dazed, even more breathless than before, and he looked back down at her without any expression at all lighting his dark eyes.
    ‘That was a close one,’ he said, and he didn’t let her go.
    Zoe could feel one hand on her bare shoulder, the other seeming to burn right through the thin silk of the dress, on the small of her back. She felt the press of his body against hers, the strength of his thigh and chest, and then, amazingly—yes, wonderfully—the insistent press of his arousal.
    Her lips parted and her breath came out in a soft, expectant rush; still she didn’t move and neither did he. She felt his hand pressing into her back, urging her forward, and as her hips bumped against him his awareness flared white-hot, consuming her.
    She knew they couldn’t have sex. She didn’t want to endanger her pregnancy, and she knew Aaron wouldn’t take that risk either. Yet the need between them was palpable, overwhelming. Aaron’s hand slid from her shoulder along her bare arm, the touch of his fingers seeming to dust her with sparks. He dipped his head lower and Zoe’s own fell back, her lips parted and waiting for his kiss, every nerve inside her buzzing and humming.
    ‘Zoe…’ Her name was the softest of sighs and she felt his thumb brush her lower lip. She let out a tiny sound of want, halfway between a mewl and a moan.
    With a shuddering breath, Aaron stepped away. ‘You should go to bed.’
    She felt as if he’d doused her with ice-water but somehow Zoe managed to nod, disappointment, a little relief and a terrible, aching unfulfillment all warring within her. ‘Yes, I should.’
    Aaron turned away, raking his hands through his hair before yanking off his tie. Zoe watched him, knowing he had to be as sexually frustrated as she was. She didn’t want the evening to end here. She didn’t want to go to bed alone. She swallowed, her throat dry, her heart beating hard.
    ‘Aaron…’
    ‘What?’ His back was still to her, every taut line of his beautiful body radiating tension.
    She shouldn’t want this. Definitely shouldn’t ask for it. Yet something—some great, deep