Free Lady Love by Diana Palmer Page B

his.
    “Go ahead,” he said quietly. “Just don’t excite me too much. The closet isn’t the place for what we’re building up to.”
    She realized that, of course she did. But they were in a world of their own just for these few minutes, and she was wildly, excitingly curious about him. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons until she had them open halfway down his chest. He didn’t bother with undershirts apparently, and she smiled when she saw the broad expanse of hair-roughened skin.
    His chest was rising and falling with his ragged breathing. She slid her fingers under the edges of the shirt and let him go rigid. She touched the hard muscles slowly, caressingly.
    He muttered something faintly violent, and all at once his hands went to the back zipper of her dress and slid it down to her waist.
    “Cameron…!” she cried in a wild little whisper.
    “I have to,” he ground out, bending to her mouth. “Help me,” he whispered against it. “I think I might die if I can’t feel you against me this way!”
    His mouth was making a slave of hers, and she was helpless to stop his practiced hands from pulling the dress to her waist. He brought her inside his shirt, groaning when he felt her bare skin uniting with his own, soft pink flesh melting into bronzed muscle.
    Her throat ached with the tiny cry she made, and her hands lifted to his thick dark hair, tangling in it, holding her mouth to his as his body rippled against hers. She felt his hands move to her sides, caressing her in slow, bold sweeps that eventually led him to her high, taut breasts. She moved back a little, just enough to let his hands find her, and she moaned harshly at the unfamiliar, unexpected pleasure of letting him explore her so intimately.
    He lifted his head to look at her while his thumbs rubbed with maddening leisure against the hard nubs. “You’re exquisite, Merlyn,” he whispered. “Magic and madness and silk to touch. And if there was a lock on this door, I’d have you right here on the floor, you know that, don’t you?”
    “Yes,” she whispered, aching for that, aching for him. She wanted him with a shocking madness, blind to sense and reason. She was feeling sensations she’d never even dreamed of, and he was pleasing her in incredible ways. “Kiss me again,” she begged.
    “I wouldn’t dare,” he whispered back, his eyes fixed on the sight of her pale flesh against the dark skin of his hands where he was touching her. “My God, you’re everything a man could want.”
    The sudden sound of a voice froze them both. Cameron scowled, glancing toward the closed door in slow motion. All at once, he seemed to realize that the sound was coming nearer. He let her go and stood there like some exquisitely masculine conqueror—his shirt undone, his hair mussed and his eyes blazing with frustrated passion. He was the handsomest man she’d ever seen.
    “Pull that up,” he growled, staring pointedly at her bodice.
    Belatedly, she jerked it up and fumbled behind her for the zipper. Someone was at the door now—drunk from the sound of his voice—and the doorknob started to turn.
    Cameron grabbed it and held it. “What do you want?” he asked curtly.
    There was a pregnant pause. “What…do I want?” the voice mumbled.
    Cameron’s eyes twinkled. “That’s right. What do you want?”
    “My raincoat!” came the belligerent reply. “It’s raining cats and dogs again, just like when I got here!”
    “What color is it?” Cameron continued.
    “Uh…brown.”
    He turned, glancing down the row of coats. “There are a lot of brown raincoats in here. What does it look like?”
    “If you’ll let me open the door,” the slurred voice said, “I’ll show you.”
    “Can’t do that,” Cameron said, glancing down at his own untidiness. “You describe it.”
    Merlyn had her face in her hands, trying desperately not to giggle.
    The voice sounded affronted. “Of all the silly…all right, it’s got epaulets and one of them