men treat women like this!"
"I've got news for you, honey,'' he murmured, letting the tip of his tongue touch the rapidly beating pulse at the base of her throat . " Some things a man doesn't leave behind."
"No!" she gasped as he pulled her against his naked chest and reached for the zipper at her nape. "You're a gentleman, damn it! I'm holding you to that!"
His fingers hesitated, the zipper halfway open. "What makes you think I would have behaved any differently if I'd gotten you into bed tonight while I was still in my gentlemanly role?" His lips burned on her earlobe now, and she wedged her hands against the strong chest.
"We would never have wound up in bed like this if you hadn't taken over the evening!" Dara wailed.
"I really don't feel like arguing over whose fault this is," he soothed, lowering the zipper sensuously down to the base of her spine. "And don't try telling me you don't want me. I know what you were doing to me on that dance floor back at the bar and I know how you were responding." "You don't understand!"
That brought a deep laugh from the back of his throat. "I understand, honey. Don't worry about that!" His fingers danced wickedly up her spine as she struggled futilely to lever herself away from his chest When they reached her naked shoulder, the bold fingertip slid under the fabric of the dress bodice and pushed it forward, exposing the rounded femininity beneath.
Dara gasped, knowing that by now both his eyes and her own were adjusted to the darkness. He could see what his hands had revealed.
"Yale! Stop it! Please!" The cry was torn hoarsely from her throat as he lowered his dark amber head to taste the sweetness of her breasts. Her fingers curled unconsciously into the muscles of his shoulders and she heard him groan.
"You don't mean that," he rasped, his tongue circling a nipple, urging a physical response.
"Yes! Yes, I do, damn you! Please, Yale. This isn't the way I wanted things to be between us. It's too soon. We have to get to know each other. I want you to..." Her words trailed off. How could she tell him she wanted his love, not merely his desire? He would never understand how she could have fallen so completely for him in such a short period of time.
"You want me to what, sweetheart?" he whispered deeply, his teeth closing gently around the nipple his tongue had drawn forth. "Tell me. I'm willing to please...."
"I want you to stop making love to me!" She was lying through her teeth but she spoke the words with considerable forcefulness.
He stilled for an instant and Dara , too, froze, waiting for his reaction. When his head eventually lifted and his eyes met hers with a directness that sent a shiver through her limbs, Dara almost called back her own words. Almost but not quite. The future was what mattered between them. To preserve that she had to protect the present
"Are you sure that's what you want honey?" he murmured coaxingly, his hand softly cupping one breast.
"I'm...I'm sure," she vowed, unable to look away from the seductive expression in the hazel gaze. "Please, Yale."
"I bet you sell a lot of stock with that earnest little look, don't you?"
"Yale!"
He sighed. "You're old enough to know better than to play with fire, Dara ."
"I never meant things to get so out of hand," she said contritely. "I only wanted to know more about you and somehow..."
"Couldn't resist opening Pandora's box , could you?" He grinned, leaning back against the pillows. She felt the sexual tension seep out of him and drew a deep breath of relief—relief tinged with regret, she was forced to admit privately.
"Was all this in the nature of teaching me a lesson?" she complained ruefully.
"No," Yale growled, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "I suppose I'd forgotten a few of the things that were still in the box, myself ." His eyes closed and suddenly he looked tired.
"How long did you drive a truck, Yale?" Dara asked, knowing quite suddenly that she was