Harlequin® BlazeTM #25
Mass Market Paperback
Publisher: Harlequin Books
Pub. Date: February 2002
"How about a massage before your shower?" Chad asked.
"I can make you feel better."
She stared into his eyes, wondering what he was up to. For once, she didn't want to analyze her motives and his hands would feel good on her. "Where do you want me?"
He grabbed four, clean rolled-up towels that were stacked and ready for use outside the steambath. "Over here."
He spread out one towel for her to lay upon and she positioned herself face down on the mat. "What's with the extra towels?" she asked.
"Lift your hips."
She did as he requested and he slipped two of the rolled towels under her.
"Now bend your knees."
She did and he placed the last roll on the floor so that when she lowered her limbs, her legs remained slightly bent.
"This is much better."
She expected him to straddle her back, but he knelt beside her. "There's one more thing."
"I work better on skin."
His words rang an alarm bell somewhere in her mind, but she was so relaxed and anticipating those clever hands on her that she didn't sit right up or change her mind. "What are you proposing?"
She felt his hands on the towel by her waist at the edge of her t-shirt. "Let me pull this over your head. The material can pillow your head."
He gave her a second to object. When she remained silent and lifted up slightly to help him, he raised her shirt over her head and placed the cotton between her cheek and the towel.
But he didn't totally free her arms. She was by no means tied up, but partially restrained. She could say no, but she couldn't help anticipating what he would do next. The man was full of surprises, and if this was his idea of a seduction, she'd receive a mighty good rubdown before she finally told him no.
She turned her head to look at him, but the light in his blue eyes didn't give her a clue to his thoughts. "You happy now?"
"I'm getting there." He stepped away from her. "I need some cocoa butter. I'll be right back."
He walked out of the room without a glance back. She should probably yank her shirt down, climb to her feet and take a shower, then a long nap, but it seemed too much of an effort.
Cool air on her bare skin, her hands twisted in her shirt, her hips propped at an angle, she waited. Waited for him to return while she wondered exactly what kind of massage he had in mind and how far he would go. How far she wanted him to go.
Anticipation flowed through her. She was missing his presence and aching for his attention. Yet he had yet to offer the slightest touch.
What could be taking him so long?