Last Virgin In California (Mills & Boon Desire) (7 page)

A flicker of emotion flashed inside her and Lilah wondered just what it was. More than passion. More than simple desire. This was something she’d never felt before. And rather than try to put a label on it, to
try to understand it, she decided to simply nurture it.

He stopped alongside the car and reached into his pocket for the keys. The instant his arm left her shoulders, the cold slipped into her and Lilah hugged the edges of her sodden sweater across her middle.

Glancing at her, he opened the door and said, “Get in. Quick, before you freeze.”

Lilah nodded and slid onto the seat. He closed the door after her and as he walked around the back of the car toward the driver’s side, she told herself that here was her chance. With this man. At this moment. She was finally going to lose her title as the Last Virgin in California.

He climbed in, settled behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition. Flipping a few dials, he had the blower going and the rush of air quickly shifting from cool, to warm, to positively toasty.

With the engine purring, she turned toward him and found him staring at her. Those green eyes of his looked stormy, dark with a desire she recognized and shared.

A muscle in his jaw clenched and released. He swallowed hard and said, “Get your seat belt on.”

“In a minute,” she said, leaning closer.

His gaze shifted from her eyes to her mouth and back again. He shook his head. “Don’t be starting this, Lilah. We both know it would be a mistake.” He
was saying all the right things, but hunger colored his tone and boiled her blood.

“And we both want it anyway.” She tilted her head and leaned in farther, closer to him. She could almost hear his heart pounding.

He reached up, stroked her cheek with the tips of icy fingers and reaction shimmered up and down her spine. Then he speared his fingers into her hair and pulled her to him.

His mouth came down on hers and stole the last of her breath. Her heart hammered in her chest, her stomach did a quick jig and when he released her, Lilah looked into his eyes and knew without a doubt that this was right.

Even if it was wrong.

Chapter Seven

O
utside, the wind was cold and fierce. Trees along the highway twisted and danced in the ocean gusts, bending low, their leaves breaking free and pelting the passing cars like oversized raindrops. But inside the car, heat roared into life and had nothing to do with the blast of forced, warm air rushing from the heater.

Lilah’s heartbeat quickstepped until breathing became a near Olympic sport. Her hands fisted in her lap, she kept her gaze locked on the view through the windshield and told herself she was being foolish. None of this made sense. She wasn’t the type to fall for a Marine, for pity’s sake. Hadn’t she proved that over the years with a succession of failed attempts?
Hadn’t every Marine who’d ever crossed her path eventually run for the hills?

Oh, this was a mistake.

And any minute now, she’d say so.

Or he would.

She slanted a glance at him from the corner of her eye and felt her heart beat even faster. That strong jaw of his, those green eyes. The full curve of his mouth. She licked her lips in anticipation of another kiss and wondered when it had all come to this. When had she become so attached to this normally stoic, hard-lined Marine? Was it his seemingly unbendable nature combined with a smile that tugged at her insides and promised intimate secrets and shared laughter? Was it his generous heart contrasted with his love for rules?

What was it about this one man that had allowed him to slip past her well-honed defenses to lay siege to a heart that hadn’t been touched in years?

And what was she going to do now that he had?

“Lilah?”

She turned to face him and felt her breath catch in her throat. His gaze flicked to her briefly, then shifted back to the road in front of him.

“What?” she asked, when she could get her voice to work.

He opened his mouth, then shut it again, as if he’d wanted to say something, then changed his mind. But a moment later, he asked, “Still cold?”

That wasn’t what he’d wanted to say. She knew it. Felt it. But maybe he, too, was suffering pangs of doubt. That would be about right, wouldn’t it?

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Not cold.”

He nodded as if she’d just said something profound.

And after another long silent minute passed, he added, “I’m taking you back to your father’s house.”

A small curl of disappointment unwound inside her. Going back to the base and her dad’s house meant that nothing was going to happen between them. He
had
given in to his second thoughts. He had decided that the two of them surrendering to the fire building between them would be a colossal error in judgment.

She wasn’t even surprised.

But the jab of hurt caught her off guard.

“I don’t want to,” he said and his voice sounded tight and harsh, strained nearly to the breaking point. She watched his hands clench and unclench on the steering wheel until his knuckles went white. “You’ve got to know that. What I want is to take you back to my place.”

His place. Her insides thrummed with a low, pulsing need that threatened to swamp her with a desire that rushed up to choke her breath and strangle her heart. Instantly, images clouded her mind and filled her thoughts. Kevin, bare chested, leaning
over her, running his hands up and down her naked body. She could almost feel the gentle scrape of his calloused hands on her skin. Almost taste his kiss. Almost smell the soft, male scent of him as he leaned in closer, closer.

Her body flickered into a life that was, she knew, doomed to wither away into the unsatisfied, incomplete state with which she was all too familiar.

“But I can’t do that.” He didn’t sound any happier about it than she did, but at the moment, that was small consolation.

“Oh, naturally you couldn’t do that,” she said. “That would be breaking some kind of rule, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re engaged, dammit,” he said.

Ah, she thought, Ray. She should have known that lie would come back to haunt her. It wasn’t even her status as the Colonel’s daughter that was keeping Kevin at arm’s length—instead it was the pretend fiancé she’d invented as a safeguard.

“I almost wish you weren’t,” he added.

Her gaze shot to him. “You do?”

“Hell, yes,” he snapped.

“And if I wasn’t?” she asked, and probably shouldn’t have. After all, why torture herself?

“If you weren’t—” He shook his head. “No point in going down that road, is there?”

“I suppose not,” she admitted, and had to grind
her teeth together to keep from blurting out the truth. Because it wouldn’t get her anywhere. If he knew the truth now, he’d think her a liar or worse and race her back to the base.

She laughed shortly and he heard her.

“What can you possibly find funny in any of this?”

“Are you kidding?” she asked, leaning her head against the seat back. “Here we are, two consenting adults, hot as a couple of teenagers and instead of doing anything about it, we’re running for safety.”

“We’re supposed to be smarter than teenagers.”

“Yeah, well, maybe
smart’s
not all it’s cracked up to be.”

Not when she was feeling like this, anyway. She didn’t want to be logical. What she wanted, no. What she
needed
, was to feel. To feel everything. To finally and forever lose her virginity crown to a man she was willing to bet would make the losing of it memorable.

He made a sharp left turn and she looked at him. “What are you doing?” Lilah stared out the side window at a residential neighborhood, noting the lamplight glowing from behind windows and the children playing on neatly manicured lawns.

“Being stupid,” he muttered.

“What happened to being smart and you taking me back to Dad’s house?”

“Yeah, well,” Kevin said, telling himself what
an idiot he was, “I changed my mind. We’ll go to my apartment first. Get you dried off before you get pneumonia.” Damn. Even
he
didn’t believe him. But he had to say something. Engaged or not. Colonel’s daughter or not. He wasn’t ready yet to take her back.

So he’d torture himself just a bit longer by taking her to his place.

“That’s probably a good idea,” she said and her voice reached down into the depths of his soul and warmed him through.

Dammit.

“No,” he said, keeping his tightfisted grip on a steering wheel that somehow kept from shattering, “it’s probably a lousy idea. But I’m not taking you home dripping wet, either.”

“Sounds smart to me.” Easing back into the car seat, she kept her gaze locked on the passenger-side window until he pulled into the driveway of the duplex he rented from Mrs. Osborne. Nosiest woman on the planet.

This should just make her week.

Him showing up with a soaking wet woman.

No help for it, though.

“I kind of expected something a little more red, white and bluey,” she said. “Or maybe khaki.”

“I don’t own it,” he said. “I just rent the back apartment.”

He barely glanced at the single story, white wood-framed
bungalow. But he knew what she was seeing. A small place, with green shutters and two emerald-green doors. Mrs. Osborne was proud of her Irish heritage and didn’t mind showing it off at every opportunity.

“It suits me,” he said simply, not bothering to tell her that it gave him a break from the world that was his life. He loved the Corps, couldn’t imagine living any other kind of life, but at the same time, he enjoyed having a home off base. “Come on.”

He hopped out of the car and walked around to her side. Before he got there though, she had the door open and was climbing out. He told himself not to glance down at her white shirt, still wet in patches that seemed to be strategically placed to drive him insane. His gaze dropped anyway though and his body went hard and tight.

Kevin swallowed a groan and ground his back teeth together. This was asking for trouble, he knew. Being alone with her right now was definitely not a good idea. He was hanging on to his self-control by a ragged thread that was disintegrating with every passing second.

A blast of wind slapped at them, Lilah shivered and Kevin called himself a thoughtless bastard. Here he was thinking about getting her into his bed while she was turning into a gorgeous blond icicle right in front of him.

“You’re freezing,” he muttered and laid one hand against the small of her back.

“Not too bad,” she said.

“Yeah, right. And your teeth chattering? That’s just for show?”

“A turn-on, huh?” She flashed him a smile and just that quick, his hormones kicked into overdrive again.

“Oh, yeah,” he muttered, guiding her up the drive to his front door. “Nothing I like better than a blue woman.”

“You’re a strange and twisted man,” she said.

“Tell me about it.”

“I like it.”

Oh, man.

She stood closely to him while he shoved the key in the lock and turned the knob. He hustled her inside and as soon as he had the door closed, he reached over and adjusted the thermostat on the wall. The far-off, subtle roar of the heater jumping to life was a comforting sound, but they needed more heat. Fast.

“Take that sweater off,” he ordered as he crossed the small foyer into an equally small living room. Walking to the fireplace, he knelt beside the hearth, snatched up the nearby matches and set fire to the kindling he always had ready. In a few minutes, the newspaper and wood shavings had caught and were already licking at the log lying across the grate.

Satisfied, he turned around and saw her standing
just as he’d left her. “You keep that soaking wet sweater on and you’ll never get warm.”

“I’d love to accommodate you, especially since you’re so used to having your orders followed.” She shrugged and laughed shortly. “But my hands are so cold, I can’t get the darn thing off.”

Dammit. Rising, he walked back to her side and stood behind her, scooping the sodden wool off her shoulders and down her arms. Instantly, she shivered again, wrapping her arms around her middle and hanging on tightly.

This wasn’t going to be enough, he told himself. “All right.” He took her by the shoulders, turned her around and pushed her through his bedroom. “The bathroom’s in there. Go inside, and take a shower. There’s a robe hanging on the door that you can wear until your clothes are dry.”

“Uh…” She stopped dead and looked from him to his bed, neatly made and way too inviting and back again. “Is this some kind of roundabout seduction? Give a freezing girl a shower, just to get her naked?”

“No.”

“Rats.”

He gave her a gentle nudge toward the waiting bathroom, reminding himself that the most important thing at the moment was simply to get her warmed up again. “Just take a hot shower, all right? And when
you get those clothes off, toss ’em to me. I’ll throw them in the dryer.”

“Smooth talker.”

“Knock it off.”

“Thought you wanted me to ‘take it off.’”

Kevin gave her one of his best D.I. glares and she didn’t flinch. “Are you
trying
to make me nuts?”

“Apparently I don’t have to try,” she said, smiling despite her chattering teeth.

“Look, I’m not trying to seduce you. Trust me, you’ll know when I am.”

Both blond eyebrows lifted. “
When
, huh? Not
if?

Definitely not “if.” He knew as well as she did exactly where they were headed. All he could hope for at this point was to put it off as long as possible and pray that he regained his senses before it was too late.

Slim hope, but he’d take it.

“Get in the damn shower, will ya?”

She nodded and laughed, though he was pretty sure he heard a thread of nervousness in the sound. And that surprised him. Hell, he would have bet that
nothing
made Lilah Forrest nervous.

He watched as she headed for the green-tiled bathroom and listened, though it pushed every one of his already too sensitive buttons, as she fought her way out of her wet clothes. Then what seemed just moments later, she poked her head around the side
of the door and held out those wet things. “Here you go.”

Kevin stepped up close and took her clothes in one tight fist, trying desperately not to think about the fact that only one small door was separating him from her naked body. His fingers curled into the wet fabric and squeezed.

And just like that, the memory of that kiss they’d shared slapped into his brain with the force of a train wreck. He recalled her taste, her smell, her breathy sighs and those memories fanned the flames licking at his insides.

“I’ll be out in a few minutes,” she said.

He looked right into those big blue eyes of hers and said, “Take your time.”

For both their sakes, he hoped she stayed in there, under a spray of hot water, for at least an hour. And even then, it probably wouldn’t be long enough.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, Lilah paused briefly to look at his bed. Neat. Tidy. Like the rest of the small space. She was willing to bet that she’d be able to bounce a quarter off his mattress, too, since the bedspread was tight and wrinkle free. Yep. He was Marine to the bone. He kept his apartment clean enough to pass a surprise inspection.

But then, it probably wasn’t hard to clean a place that held almost no personal items. Oh, he had the
necessities. But nothing extra. No pictures hanging on the wall. No extra rugs. No throw pillows.

He lived as though ready to walk out the door and never come back.

And darned if she didn’t find that a little sad.

Pushing that thought aside, she yanked the belt on his too big, blue robe tighter around her middle and headed for the living room. Here at least, she spotted a few framed photographs lining the mantle. Above the fireplace, hung a mounted, ceremonial sword, with a small, brass plaque beneath it.

But it was the man kneeling in front of the fire that caught her attention. Kevin had changed, too. In jeans and a red sweatshirt, he looked less formidable and Lilah knew instantly that she’d been right about why he wore his uniform around her all the time.

He heard her come into the room and stood up, turning to face her.

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