Mary Wine by Dream Surrender Page B

keeping him from dragging loren off to his room. he let that idea bloom in full vivid color inside his mind. her body bare and writhing against his sheets as he sank into her center.
    his staff was rigid as he savored the idea of thrusting into her body and watching her face while he did it.
    his teeth clenched and rourke smiled. raw desire was coursing through his veins. there was something inside him that enjoyed the primitive need pulsing through his body. seducing a woman certainly held its rewards, but right now he wanted to capture loren and ride her ‘til she sobbed with rapture.
    the soft sound of his printer stopped. rourke eyed the neat pile of crisp sheets in the output tray and curled his lips back. he stood up and grabbed the papers in one fluid motion.
    loren was at her normal spot in his kitchen, right next to the coffeemaker.
    she was gazing out of the window, her mug of freshly poured coffee forgotten on the counter top. steam rose from it as she continued to contemplate the view. rourke dropped the papers in front of her and caught her shoulder as she jumped.
    “you’ll never hear me coming unless i want you to, honey.” loren lifted her eyes to stare into the ruthless ones of her host. rourke campbell’s face was etched with primitive aggression that made her belly curl with excitement. the need to yield to him was becoming painful now. inside of her was a woman raging against the bounds of a dead marriage that she forced herself to hide behind. his green eyes bored into hers as his hand tightened on her shoulder. he stroked her face with a single finger while he let his eyes settle on her mouth.
    “sign them.” his words were whisper soft. he was daring her to refuse his demand. moving her eyes away from his face she looked at the kitchen counter. the neat stack of papers was already filled out and ready for her signature. somehow, loren had never thought that dissolving a marriage could be reduced to a thin pile of computer-generated forms.
    she spun away from his hold. she couldn’t look at either rourke or the papers. both glared at her, highlighting her shortcomings.
    62

    “i’m going for a walk.”
    loren hated the fact that she waited for rourke to nod his approval before she turned to leave.
    “loren.” his voice was still soft. she barely looked over her shoulder because there was far too much promise in his voice. the need to run was climbing up her spine as she felt the walls of the house contract around her. his green eyes almost glowed as she felt him sink straight into her mind. loren wavered slightly as she felt his desire collide with her own inside her thoughts ‘til they mixed into a potent combination of overwhelming need.
    “you have exactly one hour.”
    she sprinted out of the kitchen door like a rabbit. rourke frowned as he watched her go. there were parts of him that could scare the strongest man half to death. he prided himself on keeping that side of his personality hidden. baring it to loren was a test. he raised his wrist and noted the time.
    now all she had to do was find the courage to come back and face him. the psychic and the man, she’d accept them both if he had to run her to ground.
    * * * * *
    she wasn’t dressed for running. loren stopped before she’d even crossed the driveway. psychic.
    the man was really a psychic. she felt the corners of her lips twitch up into a little smile as she considered the idea. it didn’t strike her as odd. in fact, she wanted to ask him at least twenty questions about his abilities. her curiosity was raging as she tried to decide exactly what he’d done to her in the kitchen. she’d felt his mood. it was like they were plugged into the same current of electricity.
    her feet carried her as loren let her ideas wander. she let a silvery laugh escape her lips. rourke’s audacity really should have rubbed her wrong. her divorce was her decision but she was still tingling with sensation as she thought about his