Free Cheryl Holt by Too Tempting to Touch Page A

through the silky strands. It was the kind of hair a mermaid might have, or a magical siren who lured sailors to crash on the rocks, and after what had occurred with her he grasped how cheerfully those poor fellows had traveled to their dooms.
    He felt as if he were on a ship at sea, that the rudder had broken and he was careening toward a perilous shore.
    “What’s happening to us?” she queried.
    “We’re attracted to one another, in an extreme manner that’s impossible to fight.”
    “But I don’t even like you, so how could that be?”
    She chuckled miserably, and he did, too, and he snuggled himself to her backside.
    “I want to visit you again,” he declared. “I want to come to you every night.”
    “Absolutely not.”
    “I have to know you this way.”
    “You’re daft to ask it of me. I’d never agree.”
    “I’m not asking.”
    She shifted and peered up at him. “You’re ordering me to consent?”
    “I guess I am.”
    “You’d ravish me? Against my will?”
    “Of course I would,” he boasted, not having the faintest idea from where such a falsehood had sprung. “It’s the type of man I am—which can’t be any surprise to you.”
    She evaluated him, her keen assessment digging deep. He tried to look stern and sinister but failed, and she shook her head. “You shouldn’t lie to me. I can tell when you are.”
    He bent down and kissed her, once more. For an instant, she allowed the advance and reveled with him, but sanity swiftly returned, and she yanked away.
    “Where are you from, Ellen?”
    “Nowhere.”
    He laughed. “Everyone’s from somewhere.”
    “Not me.”
    “Where is your family located?”
    “I have no family. That’s why I work for Lydia. I must support myself.”
    It was a sad confession that tugged at his conscience, that made him want to voice offers he wasn’tprepared to tender. “Then who is to prevent you from dallying with me?”
    “
I
am the one. It’s wrong.”
    “According to whom?”
    “You mean besides God?”
    He grinned, sinful but not repentant. “Yes, besides Him.”
    “It would hurt Rebecca—if she learned of it.”
    “Rebecca would never know,” he arrogantly contended.
    “You can’t promise that with any conviction. Secrets have an annoying habit of leaking out.”
    “But you’re almost finished at your position with her.” As they chatted, he was caressing her, smoothing his hands over her stomach, her thighs, her breasts, to vividly remind her of how wonderful they were together. “You’ll move on to another job. I understand you feel a loyalty to her—”
    “As you clearly don’t!”
    Declining to be goaded into a discussion of his faults, he disregarded the taunt. “—so how can it matter?”
    “It matters to me.” She whirled around, a fist clutched over her heart. “I don’t have much left that’s my own, but I have my integrity and my scruples. She’s been a friend to me—when no one else has been in a very long while. If I betrayed her, I couldn’t live with myself.”
    He was curious as to what had wreaked such disaster in her short life, but he was too conceited to inquire, too set on seduction to care. “What’s between us, it’s unique and exceptional. A person could search for all of eternity but never stumble on such bliss. You’re crazy to deny yourself.”
    “Then call me mad, for I will never yield to ardor. I’m not that sort of woman.”
    “You’re
exactly
that sort of woman.”
    “Talking to you is like talking to the furniture.” She pointed to the door. “Why don’t you go?”
    He thought about refusing, about staying and tempting her to mischief again, which he was sure he could do without much effort. She was so vibrant, so impatient for what he could bestow. It would be simple to entice her, but she was confused by her physical desires, by her willingness to take part in carnal games.
    He wanted her aroused and pining away. She wasn’t aware of how unrequited passion could smolder,