Trading Christmas - Debbie Macomber [93]
“I’m going to kiss you,” he told her, his voice rough yet strangely tender.
“You are?” She’d never been more aware of a man, of his hard, muscular body against hers, his clean, masculine scent. Her own body reacted in a chaotic scramble of mixed sensations. Above all, though, it felt good to be in his arms. She wasn’t sure why and dared not examine the feeling.
Slowly, leisurely, he lowered his head. She made a soft weak sound as his mouth touched hers.
Cait sighed, forgetting for a moment that she meant to free herself before his kiss deepened. Before things went any further…
Joe must have sensed her resolve because his hands slid down her spine in a gentle caress, drawing her even closer. His mouth began a sensuous journey along her jaw, and down her throat—
“Joe!” She moaned his name, uncertain of what she wanted to say.
“Hmm?”
“Are you hungry again?” She wondered desperately if there were any more bread sticks in the bottom of her purse. Maybe that would convince him to stop.
“Very hungry,” he told her, his voice low and solemn. “I’ve never been hungrier.”
“But you had lunch and then you ate nearly all the popcorn.”
He slowly raised his head. “Cait, are we talking about the same things here? Oh, hell, what does it matter? The only thing that matters is this.” He covered her parted lips with his.
Cait felt her knees go weak and sagged against him, her fingers gripping his jacket as though she expected to collapse any moment. Which was becoming a distinct possibility as he continued to kiss her….
“Joe, no more, please.” But she was the one clinging to him. She had to do something, and fast, before her ability to reason was lost entirely.
He drew an unsteady breath and muttered something she couldn’t decipher as his lips grazed the delicate line of her jaw.
“We…need to talk,” she announced, keeping her eyes tightly closed. If she didn’t look at Joe, then she could concentrate on what she had to do.
“All right,” he agreed.
“I’ll make a pot of coffee.”
With a heavy sigh, Joe abruptly released her. Cait half fell against the sofa arm, requiring its support while she collected herself enough to walk into the kitchen. She unconsciously reached up and brushed her lips, as if she wasn’t completely sure even now that he’d taken her in his arms and kissed her.
He hadn’t been joking this time, or teasing. The kisses they’d shared were serious kisses. The type a man gives a woman he’s strongly attracted to. A woman he’s interested in developing a relationship with. Cait found herself shaking, unable to move.
“You want me to make that coffee?” he suggested.
She nodded and sank down on the couch. She could scarcely stand, let alone prepare a pot of coffee.
Joe returned a few minutes later, carrying two steaming mugs. Carefully he handed her one, then sat across from her on the blue velvet ottoman.
“You wanted to talk?”
Cait nodded. “Yes.” Her throat felt thick, clogged with confused emotion, and forming coherent words suddenly seemed beyond her. She tried gesturing with her free hand, but that only served to frustrate Joe.
“Cait,” he asked, “what’s wrong?”
“Paul.” The name came out in an eerie squeak.
“What about him?”
“He phoned me.”
“Yes, I know. You already told me that.”
“Don’t you understand?” she cried, her throat unexpectedly clearing. “Paul is finally showing some interest in me and now you’re kissing me and telling anyone who’ll listen that the two of us are married and you’re doing ridiculous things like…” She paused to draw in a deep breath. “Joe, oh, please, Joe, don’t fall in love with me.”
“Fall in love with you?” he echoed incredulously. “Caitlin, you can’t be serious. It won’t happen. No chance.”
SIX
“No chance?” Cait repeated, convinced she’d misunderstood him. She blinked a couple of times as if that would correct her hearing. Either Joe was underestimating her intelligence, or he was more of a…a cad