.
military order that a good proportion of officers didn’t progress to the next rank, with multiple majors all after a handful of lieutenant colonel postings. Fitz’s aim was to become a full colonel, then brigadier beyond that. But right now there were multiple new lieutenant colonels like him, all fighting for the same single position. It was a matter of dedicating oneself to rising through the officer ranks with focus, speed and ability, sacrificing personal relationships with barely a second thought.
Now, suddenly, for the first time he found himself standing still for a moment, taking stock and wondering what his life might have been like if he’d made different choices. And he couldn’t afford to think that way because there was no other choice for him.
He was damaged. Hadn’t Janine told him so? And hadn’t her father told him that he destroyed lives? Weren’t his mother and sister proof of that?
‘Fitz? What is it?’
It was only when Elle swung around to face him, stopping him altogether, that Fitz realised he’d slowed down to almost a standstill. He made himself look her in the eye.
It was a mistake. Emerald depths stared unblinkingly back at him, wide and intelligent.
‘You understand tonight is all I can offer you?’ He barely recognised the raw quality to his voice.
‘I know that.’
The almost imperceptible quiver in her response gave her away. He had to force himself to continue, even as his brain was screaming at him that he was just trying to come up with excuses and he couldn’t explain why.
‘Yes, but do you really understand what that means?’
Elle snorted, but her eyes dropped momentarily from his as though she couldn’t bring herself to look at him.
‘Of course I do. I’m pretty sure the term one-night stand is self-explanatory.’
‘And you said yourself that up until two weeks ago you’d been with one man for fourteen years. Are you sure you’re prepared for a one-night stand?’
‘Are you saying I’m too sweet? Because, believe me, I’ve heard that before.’
‘There are two kinds of sweet, Just Elle: naughty and nice.’ Was that really his voice, so thick and carnal? ‘I’m trying to work out which one you are.’
He couldn’t help himself. Lifting a finger, he traced the velvet-soft skin of her cheek. She swallowed.
‘Why don’t you kiss me again and find out?’
Before he realised it, he’d hooked his finger under her chin and dropped an obliging, if restrained kiss on those deliciously swollen lips.
Another mistake.
Her eyes were glassy with desire, only serving to stoke the furnace that was already consuming him from the inside out. He wanted her with a ferocity he’d never known before. Not even with Janine.
Elle might look wholesome but she tasted like pure sin, even without that wantonly lithe body pressed so tightly against his. Without knowing it, he’d already memorised everything about her, from the way that autumnal curtain tumbled and bounced past her shoulders and down her back to the way her leather trousers clung so lovingly to her feminine curves and the shimmering, metallic green top that skimmed her waist and swung to reveal a gap at the back, giving tantalisingly discreet glimpses of smooth, bare skin.
And then she stepped into him again and there was nothing discreet about the way the hard buds of her nipples pushed through the thin material, or the way his thumb seared as he slid it into the gap and ran it down her exposed back. Not to mention the seductive heat between her legs, which was pure, full-on sexy.
‘What did you decide?’ she managed, her breathing rapid and shallow.
That she abraded a deep, black part of himself that he couldn’t allow to be exposed. That he should walk away from her now. That he wanted her with a hunger he couldn’t seem to control.
‘I didn’t,’ he growled.
‘Then let me make it easier for you. Tonight I’m the naughty side of sweet, and I want you. And you said you want me too.’
The husky whisper was his undoing.
Yes, he was toxic. To forget that was to step onto a dangerous track. If he went to Elle’s hotel tonight, if he slept with her—and, God, he wanted to—then that had to be it. Like any other time, like any other woman. Sex was simply sex. Whatever it was that she scraped away inside him, he could shut that down. He had to.
Fitz cupped her head in his hands and kissed her fiercely again, as if testing himself, as if proving that the physical could be split out from anything else that had no business swirling around his chest. He kissed her until his head sparked and his body ached with such intensity it was almost agony, until he was finally convinced he was back on solid ground and it was all about the physical again.
And then he grabbed her hand and led her to the hotel and into the lift, barely releasing her long enough to press the button for the floor before pulling her against him, her back up to his chest, sliding that glorious curtain of hair to one side and dipping his head on the other side to kiss the base of her neck, as she leaned back into him and sighed softly. Perfectly.
* * *
They tumbled into her room. The heavy wooden door, restrained by its soft closing mechanism, seemed to close too slowly for Elle, firing up her sense of anticipation. Then, when it finally shut with an audible click, the weight of expectation that accompanied that soft sound was unmistakeable.
For a fraction of a second she froze. She was in a bedroom, with a stranger—a hot, caring, responsible stranger, given his actions all evening, but a stranger nonetheless.
As much as she wanted to, could she really go through with this?
Instantly—impressively, too, given the evidence of his desire was pressed, hard and undeniable, against her body—Fitz pulled back from her. She was shocked at just how bereft that tiny movement made her feel.
‘Last chance,’ he growled. ‘You can still change your mind.’
His rich, low voice thrummed with barely restrained lust, making her pulse thready and her insides turn molten. She’d never felt so desired and so needy. And the fact that, even now, he was prepared to stop actually boosted her confidence that final little step.
‘I don’t want to change my mind,’ she whispered, running her hands over the muscles that were still frustratingly covered by the material of his shirt.
‘You have to be sure, Elle,’ he commanded thickly. ‘Because after this, I don’t know how much self-control I’ll have.’
A giggle escaped her lips. A result of the heady sensation that she could exert such desire in a man like Fitz. She had no doubt that, despite his words, if he had to stop at the very last second, he’d find the superhuman willpower to do so. But the idea that he could want her so urgently was a potent thought.
Carefully concealing the tremble that threatened to play havoc with her entire body, Elle slid her hand lower to cup the evidence of his need. He flexed under her touch, a rough sound rolling from deep in his throat, the combination doing strange things to her insides.
She didn’t want to talk any more, she just wanted him with such an intensity it was almost frightening.
As if reading her mind, Fitz dropped his mouth to hers, his kiss every bit as demanding, skilful and dominating as it had been in the bar. It seared through her and all she could do was cling to his shoulders and let him carry her through the flames. Again and again his tongue met hers in a slow, sensual dance. Exploring, touching, tasting, breaking away frequently to take detours at an agonisingly delicious, leisurely pace, starting at one corner of her mouth, trailing along her jaw before dipping below and down her neck.
Elle shook in his arms as Fitz sprinkled short, hot kisses along her collarbone and to the sensitive hollow in the