Free Trust Me by Jayne Ann Krentz Page A

got too carried away by the seething passion.
    Stark came to an abrupt halt. Desdemona felt the jolt that went through both of them. She realized that he had backed into the wooden work island positioned in the center of the kitchen.
    “Damn,” Stark muttered.
    The interruption was timely if not particularly welcome. Desdemona sighed and reluctantly lifted her lashes. She felt bemused and disoriented.
    “Maybe it's just as well,” she whispered.
    “You're right. This'll do.”
    “What on earth?” Before she realized his intention, he turned around and sat her down on the edge of the work island.
    He parted her legs and moved between them. With quick, deft movements he unzipped her dress. The bodice fell to her waist. An instant later his hand closed gently around one soft breast. Desdemona was shocked to the core by the desire that lanced through her.
    “ Stark .” She clung to him as he kissed her throat. “This isn't what I meant.”
    “It's okay. It's clean. I saw that new guy on your staff wipe it off earlier.”
    “Yes, I know, but—” She broke off when he put his hands on her upper thighs. Her skin burned beneath the fine fabric of her dress. “Oh, my God.”
    He bit her ear with exquisite care. Desdemona shivered. Then his hand was under the edge of her dress, moving higher. He cupped her for a few seconds. She tightened her legs around him. His thighs were as hard as stone.
    “I like that,” he said. He seized a fistful of her hair and buried his face in it. “And I like this, too. You smell good.”
    The raw sensuality in his voice did strange and dangerous things to Desdemona. She heard something clatter on the kitchen floor. One of her black shoes had come off.
    He pushed her backward until she was lying on top of the island, her legs dangling over the edge.
    He leaned over her, pinning her to the wooden surface. His mouth sought the curve of her throat once more. His heavily aroused body was pressed against her. She could feel the hard, unyielding shape of his manhood. He stroked the crotch of her panties.
    “You're soaking wet.” He sounded dazed with wonder.
    She was excruciatingly aware that he was right. For some reason the evidence of her own arousal brought back a measure of reality. “Stark, please. This has gone far enough.”
    He raised his head and looked down at her with glittering eyes. “What?”
    “This is—” She levered herself up on one elbow and pushed hair out of her eyes. “This is all happening much too fast.”
    “Sorry,” he said hoarsely. “I'll slow down if that's what you want. We've got all night.”
    “Wait.” She braced one hand against his massive shoulder. “I mean we're really going too fast. For heaven's sake, Stark, one month ago you were on the verge of marrying another woman.”
    Confusion flared in his intent gaze. “But I didn't marry anyone else. There's nothing to stop me from making love to you tonight.”
    “Yes, I know, but that's not quite the point I'm trying to make. Let's look at the motivation for this, uh, incident.”
    “Incident?”
    “We have to try to understand what's really happening here. Now, then, you were recently traumatized by the rejection you received at the hands of your fiancée.”
    “ Ex -fiancée,” he said grimly.
    “Whatever. I suspect you were also very angry, too. Perfectly natural.”
    “You think so?” His voice turned unnaturally soft.
    “Of course.” Desdemona struggled to a sitting position. Stark did not move from between her splayed thighs. “That sort of thing is very hard on the ego.”
    “Are you going to turn this into a counseling session?” he demanded in disbelief.
    “I told you, I think we should take a close look at your motivations here.”
    “Forget it. There is nothing complicated about my motivations.”
    She ignored that. “I'm afraid that what actually made you want to kiss me tonight was a need to prove that you can still make a woman respond to you.”
    He eyed her with a