A Forbidden Affair. Yvonne Lindsay

role model. He worked his heart out, literally, to provide for us, and I got to repay that once I graduated and started working in the family firm.”

      Nate deliberately kept things vague. He wouldn’t, for a moment, begin to elaborate on exactly why his father’s health took such a beating as he strived to build a new business from the ground up. Or who was responsible for that.

      “So, surfing?” he asked, very deliberately changing the subject as he took the exit he needed that would eventually lead them out toward the beach.

      “What about it?”

      “Want to try it over the weekend?”

      “This weekend?”

      “Sure, why not stay. I have spare boards, spare wetsuits.”

      “Spare clothes, underwear?” She gestured to her voluminous bag on the car floor. “It might be a big bag but it’s hardly Doctor Who’s TARDIS, you know.”

      Nate laughed. Her sharp wit was refreshing and appealing at the same time.

      “Let’s play it by ear then, hmm? Trust me?”

      “Sure. If I didn’t think I could trust you, I wouldn’t be here.”

      He reached across and took her hand, caressing the soft skin of her inner wrist with his thumb.

      “Good.”

      He let go and placed his fingers firmly back on the steering wheel. From the corner of his eye he saw that she stroked her wrist with the fingertips of her other hand. He allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. This night was going perfectly.

      So why did she trust him, she wondered as she lapsed into silence and looked idly out the passenger window. It’s not as if she knew him. She’d acted purely on instinct, a fact that—despite her earlier assertion about being a chicken—had gotten her in trouble many a time before.

      She gave herself a mental shake. She deserved this night. She had it coming to her after the crap she’d put up with at dinner on top of everything else this week. And everything in her body told her that this was the man to take all her problems away—at least for the night.

      Her skin still tingled where he’d touched her, the sensation a delicious buzz of promise hovering just beneath the surface. Did he expect to make love to her tonight? Just the thought of it sent a thrill of longing through her body, making her womb clench tight on a swell of need that all but knocked the air from her lungs. She’d never had this intense a reaction to anyone before. Just sneaking a glance at his hands on the steering wheel, at the way his long fingers curled around the leather, made her want those fingers on her, in her. She pressed her thighs together and felt the swollen heated flesh at her core respond. Just thinking about him touching her was nearly enough to make her go off. What would it be like when he did?

      She cleared her throat against the sudden anticipatory lump that lodged there.

      “Everything okay?” Nate asked.

      “Sure. It’s quite a drive from the city to your place. Do you work in town?”

      “Yeah. I keep an apartment there for the nights I’m too tired to make it back out to Karekare, or if I have an early run to the airport or early meetings. I sleep better with the sounds of the sea and the rainforest around me, though.”

      “Sounds idyllic.”

      “You’ll see soon enough for yourself.”

      She fell silent as they entered Scenic Drive, letting her body sway with the roll of the car as they wound on the narrow ribbon of road higher into the ranges, before winding back down again on the other side. She must have dozed off a little because the next thing she knew the Maserati was driving up a steep incline and pulling into a well-lit garage. A glance at her watch said it was almost 2:00 a.m. The drive had taken nearly an hour. She was miles from anyone she knew, miles from home. She should find the fact daunting—she didn’t. In fact, she welcomed it. Knew that with her choice to come home with Nate that she’d thrown her cares to the wind.

      “Home sweet home,” Nate said, coming around to her side of the car and opening the door for her.

      Nicole accepted his hand as he helped her out the car, her senses purring at his touch. To her surprise he didn’t let go, instead leading her to a doorway which, when opened, revealed a short set of stairs leading down into a massive open-plan living/dining and kitchen area.

      The furnishings were comfortable but spoke plainly of their price in the elegantly simple designs and top-quality fabrics. A large, open fireplace, bordered with gray slate, occupied space on one wall. Even the artworks on the walls and small sculptures on the occasional shelving were beautiful and no doubt expensive. What he surrounded himself with said a lot about him and, so far, she liked it.

      “Still feel like that drink?” Nate asked, lifting her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss against her knuckles.

      “Sure, what are we having?”

      “There’s champagne in the fridge, or we could have a liqueur.”

      “A liqueur, I think.”

      Something potent and heady, just like him, she thought privately. Nate let her hand go and moved toward a built-in sideboard on the other side of the room. She gravitated toward the wall of glass that faced the inky darkness outside. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows she could hear the sound of waves rolling heavily into shore.

      In the reflection of the glass she saw Nate come to stand behind her, one arm coming around to offer her a small glass of golden liquid.

      “A toast, I think,” he said, his breath warm in her hair and making her scalp prickle in awareness.

      “To what in particular?” Nicole asked, accepting her glass and raising it toward Nate’s pale facsimile mirrored before her.

      “To wounded souls, and the healing of them.”

      She nodded and raised her glass to her lips, her taste buds reacting instantly to the smooth, sweet tang of aged malt whiskey. She allowed the liquid to stay on her tongue for a moment before swallowing.

      “Now that is pretty fine,” she said, turning to face Nate.

      Her breath caught in her chest as she saw the look in his eyes. Eyes that were only a shade darker than the deep gold fluid in their glasses.

      “Only the best,” he answered before closing the distance between their faces.

      Nicole felt her heart race in her chest. If this kiss was to be anything like the one at the club she couldn’t wait to experience it. Her lips parted expectantly, her gaze focused solely on the shape of his mouth, on the sheen left there by the liqueur. Her eyelids slid closed as she felt the warmth of him, as his lips took hers, as his tongue swept gently across the soft fullness of her lower lip.

      He made a sound of appreciation. “Now that’s what I call the best.”

      His lips pressed against hers once more and she curved into his body as one arm slid around her back and drew her closer to him. He was already aroused, a fact that triggered an insistent throb in her veins—a throb that went deeper into her center. She pressed her hips against him, feeling his length, his hardness. Feeling her body respond with heat and moisture and need.

      She could taste the liqueur on his lips, on his tongue—its fusion of flavors intrinsically blended with his own. When he withdrew she felt herself move with him, toward him. Drawn as if by some magnetic force.

      Nate put his liqueur glass on a shelf nearby before also taking hers and doing the same again. He then lifted his hands to her hair, pushing his fingers through the long mass until his fingertips massaged the back of her scalp, gently tilting her face to his once more. This time his kiss held a stronger taste of hunger, a promise of things to come.

      Nicole tugged his shirt free of his waistband and shoved her hands underneath, her nails gently scoring his back as she traced the line of his