First Impressions

Swiftly, she turned to face him. Though the tears hadn’t brimmed over, her eyes still swam with them. When she lifted her hands to his forearms, he found her fingers surprisingly strong. “It’s very kind of you to offer.”
    “No, it’s not,” Vance snapped. Frustration, guilt and something more ran through him. He resented all of it. “Damn it, Shane, you don’t understand. The money isn’t—”
    “I understand you’re a very sweet man,” she interrupted. Vance felt himself become tangled deeper when she put her arms around him, pressing her cheek to his chest.
    “No, I’m not,” he muttered. Intending to push her away and find a way out of the mess he’d gotten himself into, Vance put his hands back on her shoulders. The last thing he wanted was misplaced gratitude. But his hands found their way into her hair.
    He didn’t want to push her away, he realized. No, by God, he didn’t. Not when her small, firm breasts were pressed against him. Not when her hair curled riotously around his fingers. It was soft, so soft, and the color of wild honey. Her mouth was soft, he remembered, aching. Surrendering to need, Vance buried his face in her hair, murmuring her name.
    Something in the tone, the hint of desperation, made Shane long to comfort him. She didn’t yet sense his desire for her, only his trouble. She pressed closer, wanting to ease it while she ran soothing hands over his back. At her touch, his blood leaped. In a swift, almost brutal move, Vance pulled her head back to savage her mouth with his.
    Shane’s instinctive cry of alarm was silenced. Her struggles went unnoticed. A fire consumed him—so great, so unbearably hot, he had no thought but to quench it. She felt fear, then, greater than fear, passion. The fire spread, engulfing her until her mouth answered his wildly.
    No one, nothing had ever brought her to this—this madness of need, terror of desire. She moaned in panicked excitement as his teeth nipped into her bottom lip. Along her skin, quick thrills raced to confuse and inflame. There was never a thought to deny him. She knew she was already his.
    He thought he would go mad if he didn’t touch her, learn just one of the secrets of her small, slim body. For countless hours the night before, his imagination had tormented him. Now, he had to satisfy it. Never stopping his assault on her mouth, he reached beneath her shirt to find her breast. Her heart pounded beneath his hand. She was firm and small. His appetite only increased, making him groan while his thumb and finger worked the already erect peak.
    Colors exploded inside her head like a blinding, brilliant rainbow. Shane clutched at him, afraid, enthralled, while her lips and tongue continued with a demand equal to his. Against her smooth skin his palm was rough and calloused. His thumb scraped her, lifting her to a delirium of excitement. There was no smoothness, no softness in him. His mouth was hard and hot with the stormy taste of anger. Crushed to hers, his body was taut and tense. Some raw, turbulent passion seemed to pour out of him, to dare her to match it.
    She felt his arms tighten around her convulsively; then she was free so quickly she staggered, grabbing his arm to steady herself.
    In her eyes, Vance saw the clouds of passion, the lights of fear. Her mouth was bruised and swollen from the fierceness of his. He frowned at it. Never before had he been rough with a woman. For the most part, he was a considerate lover, perhaps indifferent at times but never ungentle. He took a step back from her. “I’m sorry,” he said stiffly.
    Shane lifted her fingers to her still-tender lips in a nervous gesture. Her reaction, much more than Vance’s technique, had left her shaken. Where had all that fire and feeling been hiding all this time? she wondered. “I don’t . . .” Shane had to clear her throat to manage more than a whisper. “I don’t want you to be sorry.”
    Vance studied her steadily for a moment. “It would be better all around if you did.” Reaching in his back pocket, he drew out a list. “Here are the materials you’ll need. Let me know when they’re delivered.”
    “All right.” Shane accepted the list. When he started to walk away, she drew up all of her courage. “Vance . . .” He paused and turned back to her. “I’m not sorry,” she told him quietly.
    He didn’t answer, but walked around the side of the house and disappeared.

Chapter 5
    Shane decided she had worked harder