Chapter 6

XAVIER’S POV Later at dinner, Kimberly excused herself to her room; I went shortly afterward and wanted to make sure she had all she needed for tomorrow. As I came into the room, Kimberly was nowhere. I supposed that she went to the bathroom. So I put on the bed a pair of pajamas and was just going back. Behind me, the door opened and I stood still."Xavier?” Her voice sounded soft, uncertainly. I turned and then she hit me with freight. She was in front of me now, wrapped in the towel, her hair dripping, the ends curling softly, skin alive in the insidious lighting of the room. Large eyes were wide with astonishment, locked hard with mine. My chest tightened then, and my gaze went unwillingly away from hers; my eyes raked down her body before I knew what I was about, drinking every inch in. Her lips parted, her breath catching, and I was a goner. Kimberly stood frozen near the bathroom door, steam curling around her, her body wrapped in the smallest white towel I’d ever seen. My gaze betrayed me, raking over her damp skin. Her hair clung to her shoulders, and the towel barely reached mid-thigh. I swallowed hard, my Adam's apple dancing as I tried to tear my gaze away-and miserably failed. The next thing that caught my gaze was her lips. They were deep red, a bit swollen because she'd bitten them in nervousness, and those actions of hers were driving me crazy. Damn it. I leaned in some more, couldn't help it, my heart going crazy inside my chest. Kimberly tensed up, eyes wide, but to her credit, she didn't inch back. Which was just about the only encouragement I needed. "You bite your lip when you're nervous," I said low and husky, reaching out my hand. She said nothing. She was breathing roughly and I stroked my thumb across her bottom lip, dislodging it from where she had clamped her teeth into it. It was soft and inviting. My thumb stayed there a fraction of a second too long and I heard her sharp intake of breath. I leaned in closer, not to help myself. "Do you have any idea what you're doing to me, Kimberly?” Her lips parted, but no words came. Then, her silence-in fact-became the dare that I was ready to go for. All this entered my mind but barely passed when my lips brushed hers. Not on purpose-instinct, but some kind of default setting. I'd felt her stiffen for a moment, yet she had given way. Just that flash of resistance just before yielding had flared fire in my veins. Harder now I pressed against her, pulling her closer-the soft flex of her waist, a light pressure of fingers. She tasted forbidden to me, and yet so desired. She responded to my kiss, for one perfect moment, fleetingly. Her hands came up against my chest, her lips parting under mine, and I felt the soft sighs of her, warmth pressing into me. Everything I wanted. Then I felt it. The slightest push of resistance. She went stiff in my arms, her hands against my chest-not begging for more but saying, stop. I drew back, unwilling, stepped away from her, forcing myself to drag a deep breath in. Her chest was rising and falling like she was running, her face flushed, her lips swollen from our kiss. and she wouldn't look at me. "I'm so sorry," I said, running a hand through my hair. "I shouldn't have…” Her wide eyes finally flicked to mine, and I softened my tone. "Kimberly, I respect boundaries. Always. Anything you don't want, anything at all you may want-I need you to tell me. You don't have to be reserved; you don't have to hold your words, not here, with me." It wrestled surprise onto her face-maybe even a thread of relief-but before anything else could register, her telephone burst into ringing and broke the moment. "Answer it," I said-my voice composed by then. "I'll leave you to it." And without waiting for her reply, I turned and left her. ********* I leaned back into my room door, closing my eyes as I took a great inhalation of air. Still my heartbeat was racing, her mouth still tasted upon mine. What the hell's wrong with me? She needed time and was supposed to feel safe with me. Not that in the first opportune moment, I should attack. I took my shirt off and went right under the shower, again twisting it to ice cold in that useless ritual of cleaning my head. It just thundered down again: all my thoughts came right back to when I first met Kimberly:. She was then at the high school level, among those girls who were not loud to seek attention, desperate to fit in. She was quiet, almost shy, but there was just something about Kimberly that clicked right away: the quick wit, the carriage of her posture, fire in her eyes when she hardly said a word. The first whole week, I don't think I stopped staring at her. And then finding out that she really was the real Harrington girl, the one with a silver spoon who would finally be my wife, then well-just delighted. Not actually bothering me so much about a great deal, business and fantastic richness involved, but rather the fascinating thing was herself. And then she'd come on to the estate and squashed all my hopes. I could still remember her, standing in the drawing room, her voice firm, her chin up in that little defiant tilt as she'd told my parents that she wouldn't marry me. "Madison will take my place," she'd said. First, I thought it was some kind of game, a brilliant move on her part that would yield me what I wanted. It wasn't until she completely avoided me thereafter that it had been different; she didn't want me, and she never had. How it stung-much as I refused to acknowledge so I retreated, I accepted her decision despite dealing with its slow annihilation in me, and here we were now: married to each other. Fate had a twisted sense of humour I swung the faucet in the shower in the other direction, flipped the dial and hunching over, I wrapped a towel around my waist. Droplets fell from my hair while I laughed wordlessly at the view across the mirror greeting me. Finally, I had her. And this time, I wasn't letting go.