Unexpected Pleasures by Penny Jordan

knowing, as she raised her mouth to his and started to kiss him, that there was no way he was going to be able to resist her...to stop...
    This time when he caressed her breasts the icy coldness of fear had gone, and in its place was a sensation so achingly sensuous and pleasurable that it was Rosie herself who arched her body up towards him, her hands holding his head, her fingers sliding fiercely into his hair, her head dropping back against the damask fabric of the settee as gently, watchfully at first, and then, as he realised that the sensation of his mouth caressing her nipples had not frightened or distressed her, finally giving in to his own passionate need to express his desire for her, he suckled on the hard points of flesh until the needle-sharp darts of sensation that pierced her made her cry out frantically in shocked pleasure.
    Drugged with arousal and need, Rosie moved closer to him, and then abruptly she realised what she was doing, and what could happen if she didn’t stop.
    Jake felt her tension, her withdrawal, and lifted his head to look at her. Her eyes had gone blank with shock and panic.
    Had his touch, his caress...his love reminded her of Ritchie? Disgust and pain welled up inside him.
    ‘Rosie, please...’
    He had been about to beg her to forgive him, but Rosie misinterpreted the anguish in his voice and shook her head before he could finish, her eyes still registering the intensity of her emotions.
    ‘No... No... I can’t,’ she told him. ‘I couldn’t go through that again...I couldn’t endure killing another baby...’
    Rosie was barely aware of what she was saying, driven by the weight of her pain and guilt, by the knowledge of how easily she had forgotten the past...forgotten what had happened... She was sickened by how easy it would have been for her to give in to that ache still pulsing through her and to encourage Jake to make love fully to her.
    How could she have forgotten what happened with Ritchie...the baby she had conceived, the panic and anger she had felt, the guilt and pain when she had lost it, the way that loss had haunted her, shadowing her life?
    She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts, so shocked by her own lack of control, by the speed with which her physical desire had overwhelmed everything else, obliterating all that she ought to have felt, that she was completely unaware of what she had said and what she had revealed until she heard Jake demanding harshly, ‘What baby? What are you saying? You told me...’
    Realising what she had done, what she had betrayed, Rosie focused on Jake’s face.
    The panic that hit her was so intense, so strong, that it was like an icy tide physically engulfing her, swallowing her up and dragging her down into a dark, roaring void.
    She came out of it slowly and reluctantly, not wanting to remember what happened, accepting the glass of wine Jake was giving her, distantly aware of his tension, but withdrawing from it.
    She felt thirsty, her throat and mouth dry, but when she asked Jake for another glass of wine he frowned slightly, pausing before pouring it for her.
    She drank it greedily, needing its warmth, its numbing benevolence, frowning uncertainly as she glanced down at her body and realised that, although her dress was fastened, she wasn’t wearing a bra beneath it.
    Her nipples pulsed and ached, openly erect beneath the silk.
    She suddenly felt overwhelmed by a desire to close her eyes and go to sleep. She yawned and then yawned again, ignoring the sharp urgency in Jake’s voice.
    ‘I’m tired,’ she told him petulantly. ‘I want to go to bed.’
    She stood up, her eyes widening in shock as she felt the room sway around her. The two extra glasses of wine she had insisted on having were making her head swim, confusing her thoughts. She yawned again, and closed her eyes.
    Jake caught her as she staggered. By the time he had placed her carefully on the settee she was already deeply asleep.
    And drunk? On three glasses of