Possess Me Please (6 page)

Cyrus’s jaw nearly hit the floor. No possible way could Harry be fighting Izzy for her body and conducting a civilized conversation at the same time.

He watched in astonishment as Scarlett and Harry carried on for about ten minutes. Scarlett hugged Izzy, and Harry’s soul left her body and floated away.

How in the hell had she pulled it off and lived? It wasn’t ‘smoke and mirrors,’ as he’d originally thought. No illusion was that flawless.

Did she not realize the danger she’d subjected herself to? And how many times had she done this before? Fury raged inside him at her ignorance, and he wanted to shake some sense into her.

Chapter Five

Isabelle leaned back in the chair and rested her head against the soft cushion. She was exhausted as usual. Glancing from under half-closed lids at Cyrus’s shocked expression, she barely contained the giggle bubbling up in her throat. Maybe she had made a believer out of him after all. She mentally shrugged and ignored him before turning her attention to Scarlett, who was dabbing the last remnants of tears from her cheeks with a wadded-up tissue.

Harry had given her his blessing to sell the house. He had only ever wanted Scarlett to be happy, and wished her to do whatever she needed to in order to find contentment until they were together once again.

Isabelle eased out of her seat. “I suppose I should be going now.”

Before she could take a step, Scarlett stopped her. “Isabelle, please don’t go. I’m planning a fabulous dinner, and I would love it if you would join us and stay the night. As you’ve seen, I have more than enough room, and I want to celebrate. I feel free now that I have Harry’s blessing to sell this big old place.”

If Cyrus hadn’t been present, she would have said yes instantly. He made her uneasy. Probably because he was too damned good-looking, came across as a smug asshole, and, even though he hadn’t voiced the words, clearly thought her a liar and a fake. So instead, she said, “I can’t tell you how happy that makes me, but I don’t want to impose.”

“You won’t impose. In fact, I welcome you to stay as long as you would like. Are you aware that there is a snowstorm coming in tonight? I would feel terrible if you were caught out in it.”

Great. A snowstorm
. They could be brutal and deadly in this part of Colorado. Why did she never bother to check the forecast before she went on trips?

Would it be so horrible to stay in this wonderful mansion? She looked around. No, it wouldn’t. If she tried hard enough, she could avoid Cyrus.

She sighed and relaxed her shoulders, partly in excitement and partly in resignation. “Thank you, Scarlett. I certainly don’t wish to get stranded in a blizzard. I’ll stay. Do I have time to rest for a bit and freshen up before dinner?”

“Yes, of course! Cyrus, will you be a dear and show Isabelle to the room next to yours, so I can go check that the chef is getting everything prepared correctly?”

Isabelle wanted to ask Scarlett if there was a different room, maybe one on the opposite side of the house from Cyrus’s, but her manners stopped her from protesting her host’s generosity.

“I would be happy to,” Cyrus said. He waited until Scarlett walked away before turning to Isabelle. “Do you have any bags you need brought in?”

Oh, the man was too good-looking and too cocky in his laid-back, egotistical manner. Not to mention infuriating. He was in for a humongous surprise where she was concerned. Yeah, he was gorgeous, but she was no simpering idiot for an easy smile and to-die-for lips.

“Yes, just one,” she replied. “I’ll go get it.”

“I’ll come with you.”

He nearly crashed into her when she suddenly stopped. “Thank you, but I can get it myself.”

God, couldn’t he cut her a break? He was practically on top of her, and he smelled fantastic, spicy, exotic and male. She barely kept from leaning in to take a better sniff.
Snap out of it, Isabelle!

There was something different about him, something that she couldn’t quite pinpoint. She lectured herself on all the reasons she should continue to dislike him. Yet, no matter how hard she tried to ignore him, treat him with cool nonchalance, her eyes betrayed her, her gaze roaming his magnificent body every time her guard slipped.

He flashed a toothy grin. “Let’s not argue over such a trivial matter. The sooner we get your things, the sooner you can freshen up and rest.”

“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth, and started for the front door.

She wanted to smack that smug smile off his face. She had no doubt that he was aware he rubbed her the wrong way, and it was obvious he was enjoying it. The way he shrugged off her dislike of him as easily as shooing away an errant fly irritated her even more.

“What’s your last name?”

“Powers. Why?” She glanced over her shoulder at him.

He shrugged his broad shoulders, and her stomach quivered.
Good God, Isabelle. Don’t turn into an idiot over a ripped bod and a pretty face.

“Mine’s Drakar.”

The way he watched her gave her the feeling that he was aware she wasn’t entirely unaffected by him.

Great, just what she needed. A guy like him to think she’d be an easy panty-dropper.

Maybe you should be. How long has it been since you were last with a man, never mind one who looks like Cyrus?

“Didn’t ask,” she replied, “but good to know.”

She stopped at the back of her car, dug her keys from her purse, and hit the button to pop the trunk.

Cyrus stopped and whistled. “Nice ride. For some reason, I didn’t imagine you driving such a sleek, mean-looking thing.”

She quirked a brow. “Why’s that? I’m not some big, chauvinistic, macho man, so I’m not allowed to drive a fast car?”

“I simply meant, you strike me as, I don’t know…the introverted type. Yet I have to admit, you don’t seem to take lip off anyone. That tells me that maybe you didn’t make friends easily as a child—possibly because of your
talent
? Maybe you were picked on for it? Bullied? Perhaps it’s your way of rebelling. Whatever the reason, it’s a sweet ride.”

“Thanks. I think,” she muttered under her breath, strangely perplexed by how he’d read her so well. Maybe he was just one of those people who were observant, and put pieces and clues together better and quicker than others. Maybe he was a type of Sherlock. She inwardly sighed and shushed her meandering brain.

Okay, so anyone who liked her ride couldn’t be altogether bad—could he? And now that she was trying to look anywhere but at him, she was getting a closer look at the black car parked next to hers.
Talk about nice rides.

As if he could read her mind, he pointed in the direction of the car she was admiring. “That’s mine.”

He watched her closely as she smiled and tried not to let drool slide from the corner of her mouth. She would love to get her hands on that beauty. She bet it would fly down the highway with a growl that would raise goosebumps on her skin. Her obvious admiration for the slick machine couldn’t be hidden.

He flashed another smile, a genuine one that started to melt the ice wall she’d been trying to erect between them. “I can take you for a ride sometime, since it’s obvious that we both appreciate the need for speed.”

“We’ll see.”

Who was she kidding? She’d be in that damn car right now if he asked.

After she retrieved her bag from the trunk, he took it from her and refused to give it back when she reached for it. She rolled her eyes, shut the trunk, and followed him as he carried it into the house and up the stairs.

Cyrus opened the second door at the top of the stairs, went inside, and placed Isabelle’s bag on the bench at the end of the bed. “Welcome to your room.”

She barely glanced at him. “Thanks.”

Instead of immediately leaving as she’d hoped, he stood at her door, watching her.

“What?” she asked.

“Did you know that the golden brown color of your hair is a perfect complement to your creamy skin?”

She shook her head at him.

“No? How about the fact that your lips are the prettiest, softest shade of pink I’ve ever seen?”

She shook her head again.

The corner of his mouth tipped up in a lop-sided grin. “I wonder—”

“Wonder what?” Her whispered words barely made a noise from her tight throat.

“If you’d let me taste them, or if I’d get slapped for trying. Oh, hell, it would be worth a slap.”

He took a step toward her, and she backed away from him.

She didn’t want him in her room.

Oh, you want him in here, and you so want him to kiss you.

He was too big, too male, and almost too hard to resist. Yeah, he was full of himself, but she’d bet her life savings that he gave an enjoyable ride. His body was made for it.

Get a hold of yourself, girl!

No man had had such an effect on her. One minute she was irritated with him, the next, she wanted to rip his clothes off and screw his brains out.

Too long without a man.
The root of her predicament—unused, overactive hormones. Once she relaxed, freshened up, and gained control of her traitorous body, she’d feel better.

Cyrus stared at her as though he wanted to eat her up, and parts of her heated in blatant invitation of his perusal. But she couldn’t forget that she’d only met him a short time ago.

A squeak escaped her when she tripped over the leg of the bench, and she lost her balance and careened back, mentally preparing for the jarring impact of hitting the floor. Before her ass made contact with wood, strong arms came around her, and in the next instant, she was splayed across Cyrus’s hard body.

Damn, he was quick, considering how big he was. He had managed to grab her, then twist himself underneath her to take the brunt of the fall.

Their faces were an inch apart, and she got a close-up, personal view of his features. He was more than gorgeous, more than sexy. He was downright sinful. His gray eyes were outlined by thick, dark lashes, and the clear silver pools seared her. He could almost be considered pretty, if not for the small lump on his nose.

She wondered if the flaw was the result of being broken. Yet even that imperfection added character to his good looks. His straight jaw was covered in a light layer of black whiskers, his lips were full, and he had an almost indiscernible cleft in his chin. A nearly overwhelming urge to run her tongue along it overcame her.

Their breaths mingled, and hers came quicker in anticipation. He slowly licked his lips, and her heart skipped a beat. Before she had time to think any more about why she shouldn’t be doing this, his mouth was on hers.

It was no gentle, first time, shy, exploratory type kiss, but a deep, possessive, experienced kiss. He devoured her mouth thoroughly and dipped his tongue between her teeth, tangling it with her own, wringing a groan from her throat.

Her body became hotter, and she bunched the fabric of his shirt in her hand where it rested on his hard chest. He firmly held her with one hand on the back of her head, fingers threaded in her hair, as he ravished her mouth.

A short, animalistic growl vibrated through his chest, and her body instinctively responded, becoming slick and ready for his possession. They devoured one another for what seemed like hours, until his other hand cupped one of her breasts, and she froze.

* * * *

Cyrus was aware the instant he’d gone too far. But, damn, the woman could kiss, and he wanted to slide his cock into her heat right there on the floor more than anything he could remember for a long time. The desire to bury himself as deep in her body as he could get, take her over and over until they were both sated and too tired to move, screamed through his veins.

She’s not ready for that, you bastard.

But that wasn’t entirely true. Her body was ready for it. Her mind was a different matter.

Regardless of how horny he was, regardless of how much she turned him on, regardless of how much it would kill him to retreat, he was not one to coerce an unwilling partner. Hell, he had never had an unwilling partner. Little Izzy was introducing him to delayed gratification. He could think of a few
things
he’d like to introduce her to as well.

She was pulling away from him even as he imagined pulling her tighter. She scrambled off him, and before he got up from the floor, he took a couple of deep breaths, praying he’d be able to walk without too much pain from the raging hard-on he’d developed.

She stared at him as if she couldn’t believe what had just happened. Under normal circumstances, he’d probably find the horror painted across her pretty features amusing, but his sudden case of blue balls was interfering with his sense of humor.

She wanted him. He wasn’t being vain. It was the simple truth. But he’d have to watch his step with her. He was unprepared for the intense lust she had provoked in him, the need to protect, to possess.

He was fully aware of his attraction to her. He simply hadn’t been expecting the level to which that attraction skyrocketed.

“Look, Izzy, I—”

* * * *

“Cyrus, please just go.”

Isabelle hugged her arms around her middle. Her knees were weak, and he had the nerve to stand there looking sexy as hell, even after they’d just rolled around on the floor. He wasn’t even trying to look gorgeous. It came naturally to him, as did his apparent smug satisfaction over what they’d just done.

He started to speak, but she cut him off. “I can’t do this right now. Please leave, okay?”

What the hell is wrong with me? I just met the man, and I’m all over him like a horny teenager.

Maybe she should sleep with him, and get him out of her system.

She ran her gaze over his body and let out a shaky breath.
Yeah, right.
If he ever got inside her, he’d
never
be out of her system. He fueled intense feelings in her too fast and too easily. If she wasn’t careful, she’d get burned by this one.

“I’ll go,” he said, “but don’t think for one second that I’m going to ignore what’s happening between us.”