“I don’t know how? Please, Lucien, I think you should take me back to my car.”
She was hanging on to the doorknob, trembling. But when Lucien reached to her lap and let his hand rest on her thigh, she began to calm. “You’re not going back to your car until you’ve seen the house, and until we’ve talked. I promise, I won’t hurt you. I never would have even on that day, and I won’t now.”
She was shivering still, cold as icicles hanging from a dormant tree. All the passion in her was beating in her throat, not in her heart and loins. She was afraid to feel anything in those vulnerable places. Afraid, but knowing that the storm of desire in her had not died away at all. Perhaps that storm had brewed all these days waiting for such a moment to come when she’d be overpowered by Lucien. She cou
