Chapter Sixteen
Everyone had gone. Even Trent's parents had gone to bed. But he and Chynna were still in the house, strolling slowly from room to room as he showed her everything. She was enchanted. The place was like a palace, only more user-friendly.
She loved the music room, filled with instruments, and the garden room, a porch that had been walled-in with greenhouse panels and grew tomatoes in the winter, along with orchids and flowers of all sorts. There was a fully supplied arts and crafts room and a sewing room and a computer room with printers and scanners.
"I love this place," she said, smiling at him as they looked in on the various computers. "It would be perfect for me. Everything I love to do is here."
"If we were married, we could come out here to stay whenever my mother took one of her frequent trips to Europe," he told her casually.
Turning, she looked into his face. "You almost talk as though you think we are really going to get married."
He looked down into her eyes. "I've been thinking about it," he said simply.
"You haven't!"
"Yes, I have."
"You know you haven't."
He shrugged, his mouth twisted in a wry smile. "It might not be so bad."
Suddenly she was uneasy. "Stop it, Trent. You know this is all pretend."
He leaned close, one hand against the doorjamb, the other reaching where his fingers could tangle in her hair.
"It started out as pretend, but I feel a real case of reality coming on," he murmured, bending close enough to touch her ear lobe with the tip of his tongue.
"Trent…" She wanted to push him away, but her hands wouldn't seem to do what she told them to.
"Hmm?"
His breath tickled her neck, and then his lips were pressed there, making her gasp at the tantalizing sensation. He pulled her closer and she melted against him, sighing with the pleasure summoned up by his male power, unable to resist the way her body responded to his.
"If you knew how much of my day is spent dreaming about making love to you," he whispered against her cheek, "you'd probably check into a nunnery."
"Trent…" she tried again, but it came out as a whimper as his mouth took hers and his hands slid down her curves, exploring, sampling, molding her into a mass of trembling urgency.
"Oh," she gasped, shocked at how quickly he'd taken her from pleasure to sizzling need. "No, Trent!"
She gathered the strength to pull away and this time he let her, his eyes dark with passion.
"I'd better go home," she said, turning away and avoiding his gaze.
"All right," he told her calmly. "I'll take you home."
Reaching out, he cupped her cheek with his hand.
"But I think you should know that I'm becoming obsessed with you, Chynna," he said softly, his eyes glowing in the dim light. "And I know you're not indifferent to me. Sooner or later, we're going to act on those feelings."
