Well, forget what he wanted. He had a task to do here. And that was to get her so fogged up with lust and curiosity that she forgot how terrified she was. Who knew better than he how to do just that?
He began to kiss her gently, teasingly. First her hand— yes, he had seen the way she reacted to that. Her bare shoulders. Her throat. The scent of her skin made his head swim.
But he clamped down hard on his own reactions. This was for her, he told himself. This was for her.
He slid the thin strap down her bare, warm arm. He remembered how the bra strap had slipped under the sheer provocation of that black chiffon shirt the first time he saw her. His body quickened at the too explicit memory. In spite of himself, his hands grew urgent.
Zoe gave a small moan. At once he loosened his hold.
But she turned on him, her own hands suddenly demanding, and kissed him fiercely.
Jay shut his eyes. Careful, he told himself. Careful!
But he did not tell Zoe. More cushions hit the floor as she writhed against him.
‘Please,’ she said in a panting under-voice. ‘Please.’
She jumped up, kicking her espadrilles away, and, taking him by the hand, half ran to the bedroom.
Jay knew it was going too fast. He tried to slow her down. But it seemed as if she was caught up in some feverish drive of her own and couldn’t hear him. She let him take her clothes off but not as slowly as he wanted. And she tore off his own.
‘Zoe—’
But she pulled him down onto the bed with her, her soft hair all tangled and her eyes as wide as a fox in a trap. He could not bear to think of his Zoe trapped.
‘Stop this,’ Jay said with authority.
She froze.
He unclenched her frantic fingers from his neck.
‘This,’ he said, ‘should be a lot more fun. Now, will you stop trying to do the driving and trust me?’
She bit her lip. But he saw the fierce, trapped look die out of her eyes and breathed a private sigh of relief.
‘Better,’ he said. ‘Now, concentrate. Make notes, if you like. We need to find out what you like.’
He was thorough. He had plenty of experience to build on. But he was hungrier to satisfy her than he had been for anything since his very first race. Since the last time he hadn’t been sure he could win, Jay acknowledged wryly.
‘This?’ he said, working his way up from her toes. ‘This? How about this?’
He was rewarded. At first she was surprised. Polite, but surprised. Then intrigued. Then—he knew exactly when, because her breathing changed and her limbs seemed to unfold somehow as her muscles relaxed instinctively—the first unselfconscious quiver of response ran through her.
It was going to be all right, thought Jay. He should have been exultant. But suddenly all he felt was a chill. Almost grief.
He could not understand it. It was going to be all right, after all. Zoe was going to come with him on this. Venice, the night, the wine—they had all done their stuff. Good old Venice. He tried to be grateful.
But there was a little pain round his heart, like a rose splinter that he had picked up a long, long time ago and not noticed until now.
Venice had got Zoe so far. And now it was up to him to get her the rest of the way. It was what he was good at, after all. He had walked away from so many women into his healing solitude. And, however sad they had been, however lonely, they had never said that he was not an attentive lover.
Remember that, Jay. That’s why you’re qualified to do this thing for her.
He kissed the soft flesh just inside her elbow. Then, overwhelmed, buried his face against her for a moment.
‘You smell so good,’ he said, shaken.
He lifted his head and she met his eyes for a long, long moment. Her own widened. The room was full of silence and shadows. For a moment it felt impossible to tell where he left off and she began.
Zoe said his name on a wondering note.
Jay’s heart seemed to contract in his breast.
Don’t get carried away. There’s only one thing you can do for this woman. So make damn sure you do it right.
He used all his skill to arouse her. His blood pounded but he stayed slow, deliberate. He knew exactly how to inflame her senses, one by one, with exquisite precision. And he did it. Her anxieties, her self consciousness, did not stand a chance. She did not stand a chance. This was Jay Christopher, bent on the seduction of his life.