Hot Nights with the...Australian. Nicola Marsh

step at a time, Max told himself. He had to get back to her now, seize whatever advantage he could from the positive flow of emotion towards him—ride the wave of opportunity.

      He’d taken quite a few steps before it struck him he’d be breaking his own rules if he invited Chloe to share his own living quarters. In all his relationships with women, he’d never co-habited with any one of them, consciously avoiding any claim of a de facto wife partnership that could demand a financial settlement at the end of the affair. He hadn’t wanted a wife, hadn’t wanted a woman to fill that role in his life and he’d always made that quite clear.

      That special something about Chloe was blurring all the rules that made his life what it had become. He’d just acted completely out of character. He should be appalled at his loss of control, not savouring the satisfaction it had given him. Life with his mother had been chaos and he’d hated it. Order, logic, a sane approach to everything … that was his safety net. He had to move with care where Chloe was concerned. Satisfying his desire for her was one thing, leading into an area of heavy commitment quite another.

      But the only future he had to think of right now was this time with her and he was going to make the most of it.

      CHAPTER NINE

      LUTHER curled up on her lap and went to sleep, probably a normal reaction to frantic activity and shock. Chloe hoped so. He was only a baby and slept a lot in the normal course of events. She kept stroking him lightly, wanting to soothe away any lingering trauma. Such a brave little dog, and his wild yapping had brought Max to her when she’d desperately needed some strong intervention.

      Max, in his brief black swimming costume, looking like a Greek god with all his physical power on display—her saviour once again. She hadn’t cared that he was almost naked. It hadn’t worried her one bit having her body hugged against his. If she was honest with herself, she’d revelled in his muscular support and was savagely glad he’d hit Tony and hauled him away. If they were living in some primitive society, she would certainly want Max as her mate. In fact, she would be happy to share a cave with him in every sense.

      But their lives weren’t so simple. Hers, particularly, was complicated with a whole lot of issues, and she shouldn’t keep leaning on Max to fix everything for her. Apart from which, he was currently attached to another woman, and she shouldn’t be forgetting that relationship, either. Although she was feeling more and more connected to him on many levels, and the plain truth was she wanted him to want her, regardless of every other issue.

      Was that weak and stupid?

      She didn’t know, didn’t have time to sort it out. Max strode back into the children’s house, filling it with his powerful presence, and her mind went to mush. He was a marvellous man—a dangerous, ruthless, infinitely desirable man—and she wanted to fling herself at him again, feel his arms around her, crushing her body against his, feel everything he could make her feel.

      Did he see that wild, wanton desire in her eyes? For one heart-stopping moment, he paused, his dark riveting gaze holding hers, questioning, probing with an intensity that trapped the breath in her throat. Then he looked down at the little dog in her lap and moved forward, crouching down beside her.

      ‘He seems to be breathing normally.’

      Which was more than she could say for herself. Her lungs relaxed back into action and she managed to speak normally. ‘He whimpered for a while, but I couldn’t feel anything broken.’

      ‘I think Tony’s foot went more under Luther’s belly than connecting with his ribs, but if you’d like me to call a vet …’

      She shook her head. ‘I’ll wait until he wakes up, see how he is then.’

      ‘Where’s his sleeping basket?’

      ‘In the corner next to the doll house. He likes it there.’

      ‘Don’t get up. I’ll fetch it and you can gently transfer him.’

      Luther barely stirred as she lifted him into the basket, only opening his eyes to check all was as it should be then closing them again. Max carried the basket back to the corner as Chloe pushed up from the floor. Acutely conscious of her own nakedness underneath the silk kimono, she re-adjusted it to maximum modesty as Max moved the rocker Tony had occupied back to its correct position and closed the front door, scanning the room to see if anything else had been changed.

      ‘Are you going to feel nervous staying here now, Chloe?’ he asked with a look of sharp concern.

      ‘No. I’m sure Tony won’t come back.’ She grimaced. ‘It was my fault he got in. I forgot to lock the door before lying down for a nap.’

      ‘It was not your fault,’ he retorted vehemently. ‘Tony had no right to do what he did.’

      ‘I know. I know. I just meant …’ She gestured apologetically. ‘I was careless, Max. I’m sorry you had to come and rescue me again.’

      ‘The fault is not yours,’ he repeated, shaking his head as he walked over to her. ‘You’ve been a victim for a long time, Chloe. You have to stop that kind of thinking and take a clear look at where you are and why.’

      His hands curled around her shoulders, fingers gently kneading her tense muscles. His eyes blazed with a dark fire that seemed to sear her soul. ‘You said you wanted to be with me,’ he reminded her. ‘Was that because I saved you or …?’

      She didn’t consciously lift her hands to his bare chest. They seemed to have been drawn there and she didn’t want to pull them away from the warmth and strength of his intense masculinity. She wanted to go on touching him, feeling him, although she was quivering inside at her own boldness in making this physical contact with him. The look in his eyes was tugging at her, too, demanding a response with almost mesmerising power. Some part of her mind knew he wouldn’t take unless she was willing to give, yet another part wanted him to take, removing all responsibility from her.

      The weak part.

      The victim part.

      And with that awful recognition came a sudden surge of rebellious determination to be more assertive where her own wishes were concerned. ‘It’s not just gratitude I feel for you,’ she said. ‘And I don’t want it to be just a protective thing you feel for me,’ she added recklessly. ‘I want …’

      She couldn’t bring herself to voice it out loud—all the wildly tumbling desires creating havoc inside her.

      ‘This, Chloe?’ he murmured, his eyes glittering knowingly as he slid one hand up her throat, his thumb tilting her chin up, his fingers stroking her cheek.

      Her lips parted but not to speak, to draw in breath because she desperately needed it.

      ‘This?’ he repeated, his head bending towards hers.

      Yes, yes, careened around her mind.

      His lips brushed hers, raising a host of electric tingles, which were quickly soothed into softer, more seductive sensations as he moved into tasting them, tugging lightly on the sensitive inner tissues, sliding his tongue over them—a gentle, mesmerising kissing that held Chloe totally captivated, craving more.

      Her hands slid up over his shoulders, around his neck, fingers eagerly thrusting into his hair, clasping his head to keep it lowered to hers, blindly encouraging a deeper intimacy to feed the hungry desire racing through her veins, arousing needs that had never really been answered.

      Almost instantly a strong arm encircled her waist, scooping her into full body contact with him, her breasts exulting in the hot pressure of his wonderfully masculine chest, her thighs revelling in the rocklike support of his, her stomach contracting excitedly at being furrowed by his sexual arousal, her mind lost in a tumultuous sea of elation at knowing that her own wanting was returned in full measure.

      And his kiss was much deeper now, a marauding exploration of her mouth that incited her into invading his, their tongues tangling with a passionate intensity that shot