Californian Kings. Maureen Child

He might be arrogant and pushy, but he wasn’t a bully.

      “You’re thinking too much,” he said.

      “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

      “I knew you’d be shocked, but I still can’t help wondering why,” he said, leading her through a set of French doors onto a flagstone patio, Bella’s breath caught in her throat.

      A full moon was up and shining down on the ocean, laying a wide, silver ribbon of a path that looked as though all you had to do was follow it to find something wonderful. Stars winked out of a black sky and a sea wind slid over her skin like a caress. A small, round table was set with white linen, fine china and crystal. A bottle of wine stood open and “breathing” in the center of the table, and candle flames flickered wildly in the protective circle of hurricane-glass globes.

      “Wow,” she murmured.

      “I agree.”

      She looked at him, but he wasn’t looking at the view, or the setting. He was watching her. Was it part of his game? His routine for charming women? Or was this something else? Something just for her?

      Oh, that thought was certainly a dangerous one.

      “This is beautiful,” she said, impressed in spite of her own misgivings about being there.

      “It really is,” he said, moving to the table, and pouring them each a glass of dark red wine. “I found this place the last time I was in Morgan. The setting was great, but I wanted a more organic kind of home. So I rehabbed it.” He sent her a quick wink.

      “Rehabbing seems to be a hobby of yours.”

      “Can’t help myself. I’m a hands-on kind of guy.”

      Her stomach swirled and dipped again. Then she recalled what he’d just said. “You bought this house three years ago?”

      “Yeah.” He walked toward her, holding out one of the glasses.

      She accepted it, took a sip and said, “So you were always planning on moving here.”

      “Not always,” he said. “Actually, it was meeting a certain woman on a pier one night that decided it for me.”

      He was just too smooth for her. He knew all the right words. Knew all the right moves. And she was floundering. If she had the slightest shred of sense, Bella knew she’d be running from him just as fast as her feet could take her. But she really didn’t want to.

      “Why do you do things like that?” she asked, her voice little more than a hush.

      “Like what?” He sipped at his wine.

      “Talk to me as if you’re trying to seduce me.”

      “I am,” he said. “I haven’t exactly kept it a secret.”

      “But why play the game?” she asked, walking past him to set her wineglass on the table. With her back to him, Bella said softly, “You don’t have to flatter me. Or flirt. Or any of the other things you do to get women. You already know I want you, too. So why bother pretending that you feel something for me that you don’t?”

      His features went still and, in the moonlight, his blue eyes glittered like silver. His jaw was tight, his hair rippled in the wind. “Who says I don’t mean it?”

Chapter Eight

      Bella turned to look at him and when her gaze locked with his, everything in her sizzled quietly. His eyes looked wild and flashed with heat and desire and something she couldn’t quite identify. But whatever it was, there was an answering emotion roiling through her.

      “What do you want from me, Jesse?”

      He walked toward her, set his glass down beside hers and laid both hands on her shoulders. “Tonight, I just want you. And I don’t want it to be because I won the stupid bet.” He slid his hands up her shoulders, her neck, to cup her face between his palms. “I want you to come to my bed because you want to be there. Because we both need to be there.”

      Bella realized that he was giving her the chance to back out. But she wouldn’t. She’d known the minute Jesse had come back to Morgan Beach that they were headed down this road. That eventually, they would wind up together again. If only for one more night. And if it was going to be only one night, then she was determined to make the most of it.

      She wasn’t going to hide from what she was feeling anymore. She wasn’t going to pretend to hate him. She wasn’t going to lie to herself any longer. The simple truth was that she’d fallen in love with him on that night three years ago, when they’d talked about their pasts, their futures, and shared an amazing blaze of passion in the moonlight.

      She hadn’t wanted to love him. Hadn’t expected to. Had tried for three years to hide from the truth behind a curtain of venom because she’d known it couldn’t go anywhere. Men like Jesse King didn’t settle down. And if they did, they didn’t marry women like Bella. So it had been easier to tell herself that she hated him, rather than face the fact that she loved a man she would never have.

      But she was done with that now. She did love him, though she’d never tell him that. And she was going to have another night with him—even if that was all she ever got.

      She reached up, wrapped her arms around his neck and went up on her toes. “I want to be here, Jesse. With you.”

      “Thank God,” he whispered as he bent his head to take her mouth with his.

      Bella’s mind splintered as he parted her lips with his tongue and swept inside, stealing what little breath she had left and sharing his own. His tongue stroked hers, tangling them together in a prelude to a dance she’d spent three years hungering for. Her hands splayed against his broad back, holding him to her, as she gave him everything she had and took everything he offered.

      His arms tightened around her body, pressing her to him, aligning her body along his with a need so fierce that it inflamed her own. Jesse lifted her easily, swung her up into his arms and Bella felt like a heroine in a romantic movie. Dazed, she lolled against him as he stalked across the patio, through the house and up a set of stairs. She paid no attention to where he was taking her and didn’t care, as long as he started kissing her again really soon.

      When he finally stopped and set her on her feet again, Bella took a quick look around. They were in his bedroom, obviously. A huge, bamboo four-poster bed took up most of the space. A skylight directly over the bed fanned moonlight onto a black-and-white quilt that looked handmade and what had to be a dozen pillows piled against the intricately carved headboard. Windows provided a view of the moon-kissed ocean and allowed the soft, cool sea wind to glide into the room.

      “Like it?” he asked, reading her expression correctly.

      “Oh, yes,” she said, turning to look up at him.

      “You’ll like this, too,” he told her, stepping past her to flip the quilt back, exposing clean white sheets. “Recycled cotton.”

      She sighed. “I think I just had an orgasm.”

      He laughed. “Not yet, baby. But soon. I promise.”

      Bella looked up at him. “And Kings always keep their promises?”

      “Damn straight.” He came to her then, hauling her up against him with a hard embrace that sent shivers of excitement scuttling down her spine.

      She felt every hard inch of him and her body instantly went into eager mode. She forgot about everything else. Her business, her feud with him, everything. Bella didn’t want to think. She wanted to feel.

      And Jesse more than obliged.

      His kiss turned hot and hungry and frantic. It was as if he couldn’t taste her enough and she was right there with him. Her hands slid up and