Christmas Every Day Part 39

He was undermining her resolve like acid eating through a thin layer of tissue paper. "Did you major in philosophy, as well? "

"No, Sara." Nik pulled her into his arms, fitting her against him.

"Just life."

And then he kissed her. Kissed her the way she had been waiting for him to do all afternoon. And skyrockets went off, right on cue.

She was lost.

Chapter 12.

Sara had no time to rally against him. No time to build up her armaments. No time and no will.

She felt as if she was melting against Nik like heated mercury even while she knew that she should be pulling away from him.

Running away.

Yes, running. She had absolutely no defenses within her grasp to fight this hot onslaught of his mouth on hers, this plundering of her very soul.

She didn't want to fight it.

His body twisted against hers, absorbing the full measure of her frame as it pressed along the length of his. Nik was hard and rigid against her. Desperate, she searched for indignation, for anger, for something, d.a.m.n it, that would help. There was no help.

His mouth was tangy and sweet and overpowering, reducing the structure of her barricades to rubble. They crumbled pitifully.

She couldn't get enough of him. She knew she had to stop. If this was just good s.e.x, then maybe she could accept it. But it wasn't. There was so much more to it. And she knew she couldn't handle it.

Sara thought she was losing her sanity.

Drowning in him, going under for the third time, she somehow managed to drag her head back. Her pulse was breaking the sound barrier as it throbbed all through her body, demanding satisfaction.

"Wait," she implored. She pressed her palms against his chest. They felt as forceful as twigs trying to keep back the wind. "We shouldn't be doing this here." She looked over her shoulder at the darkened house. "What if someone sees?"

He thought of Julia and Jennifer. They had their fingers crossed so hard, hoping something would happen between Sara and him, that he was surprised they could dress themselves in the morning. Brom had made it clear that he hoped Nik could fill the void he felt was in Sara's life.

As for Kane , even he had tried to help things along by telling him about Sara' sfather.

Nik ran the back of his hand along her cheek, exciting them both. "If they do, they'll probably throw a party and have us married before morning." "No!" Sara snapped out the word, pus.h.i.+ng him from her as she took a step away. The wrought-iron rail at her back prevented any further escape.

She was really frightened. Why? What did she see when she looked at him? He had to understand.

"Don't worry, I won't let them bring a preacher around." Nik slipped his hand over hers. His strong fingers rubbed her skin slowly, sensuously. He saw pa.s.sion struggling to break through in her eyes.

"Come on, I know just the place to escape from prying eyes."

She didn't want to escape from prying eyes. She wanted to escape from him. And herself. Sara shook her head. "No-"

Suddenly she was airborne, effortlessly swept into his arms. Surprised, she could only stare at him. She tried to find her voice in order to demand her release. The words wouldn't come. Her arms betrayed her as they slipped around his neck for support. Struggle though she did, she wanted this.

"What are you doing?"

Nik grinned, walking into the kitchen. He pulled the terrace doors closed after them. "If the mountain won't come to Mohammed, Mohammed is just going to have to carry the mountain to where he wants it to be." Still holding her, he left the kitchen.

"And where's that?" Sara's throat was dry, tight as she asked the question. Her body hummed, yearning. She felt desire growing at a prodigious pace. " " My room . "

His bed. Heaven.

What was the use of fighting? She knew that she was destined to end up there. She'd known when she had boarded the plane this morning.

Perhaps she'd known since she had seen him in the kitchen, a rugged, gorgeous-looking man communing with something in a copper pot.

With a sigh that bordered on surrender, Sara laid her head against his chest. She felt Nik's heart beneath her cheek. She knew it was silly, but it made her feel secure. Warm. Safe. She hadn't felt that way in years.

Nik only smiled to himself as he crossed into the darkened hallway.

Sara prayed everyone in the house was asleep and that no one would see them. There was no strength left in her to resist Not against him.

Not against herself. And certainly not against the inevitable.

The door to his bedroom stood open. Nik crossed the threshold and then eased the door closed with his elbow. It click cd into place as the latch bolt slid into the strike plate.

The soft, almost imperceptible sound reverberated in Sara's head, echoing like the sound of a cell door being closed.

Suddenly she came to life, squirming in his arms. "Put me down, Sinclair." She cloaked herself in a few precious shreds of anger. It was a desperate attempt to deny the almost violent needs racking her body. "I'm not a sack of meal you can just carry off at will."

Too late, Nik thought as he set her down. It's too late for both of us.

Wariness rimmed with panic entered her eyes. "Sara." His hands whispered along her arms. "There's nowhere to run."

And nowhere to hide.

She knew that. That's what made it all so frightening. She couldn't escape this. It was as if she was glued to the hardwood floor. "You're really making this hard for me."

"Yes, I know." There wasn't a speck of remorse in Nik's voice.

She felt like a prisoner. And he was the jailer. Him and those eyes of his that saw through her. "d.a.m.n hard."

He began to coax her mouth open with his own. His lips were firm, seeking. His tongue outlined her lips. A flurry of small, teasing kisses just barely touched her mouth, like b.u.t.terflies flirting with the tips of the summer gra.s.s. He heard her sigh as she wound her arms around his neck. Her body adhered to his.

She searched his eyes. He knew, d.a.m.n him. He knew. "I want you, Nik.

G.o.d help me, but I do."

His hold tightened around her. His smile was gentle. "I never say no to a beautiful lady."

A frenzy spun through her. If this was to happen, it had to happen quickly, so she could outrun her thoughts, her fears. She tugged at his s.h.i.+rt, pulling it free from the waistband Anxious, her fingers fumbled.

Nik captured her hands in his and pulled them aside. She looked at him, confused. Didn't he want this?

"Slowly, Sara, slowly," he cautioned. "Savor it, like a gourmet meal."

For a fleeting moment pa.s.sion was tempered with humor in her eyes. You could take a man out of the kitchen, but never the kitchen out of the man. "Is that how you think of yourself? As a gourmet meal that you've graciously consented to serve to me? "