Magnolia by Diana Palmer

Open your mouth,” he coaxed against her lips, and then he moved closer again, and kissed her as a lover.
    Claire had never experienced such sensations. She trembled as his mouth became part of hers, lost in the pleasure his hands were arousing on her naked breasts, adrift in the sheer sweet anguish of his hard, insistent kiss.
    She never wanted it to end. She whimpered from the force of the pleasure he inspired in her. She felt his hands on her upper arms, guiding them up around his neck. She felt his body shift, so that she was completely between his long, powerful legs. His free hand slid down to the base of her spine and pushed her hips into the sudden hard thrust of his. Her head spun. She knew nothing of men’s bodies, but his felt different all at once, and her legs started to tremble. There was a burst of heat in her lower stomach, along with a thrill of pleasure that brought a shocked gasp from her mouth.
    He lifted his head and looked into her wide, stunned eyes. Holding her gaze, he deliberately moved her hips against his and felt her shudder with need.
    As she struggled to speak, his gaze fell to her bodice. Gently, one lean hand came up to pull the muslin down, baring the hard red peaks of her firm breasts to his eyes.
    His breath caught. “Oh, God, Claire!” he whispered roughly. Desire for her overwhelmed him.
    She had no idea what had caused him to look so violent.He sounded shocked, and the hands gripping her waist were hurting her. “What’s wrong?” she whispered shakily, because he looked as if he were hurting.
    â€œDon’t you know?” He lifted dark eyes filled with heat and pain to meet hers.
    She hung there, frightened, fascinated, with the sound of her heartbeat loud in her ears. She wanted to ask him what she’d done wrong, but as her lips parted to make the words, there was a sudden loud knock at the door of their apartment.
    John actually jerked, as if he’d been hit. His hands contracted and suddenly let go. He moved away from Claire as if it hurt him to walk. His movements were stiff and awkward as he went to the apartment door and opened it just a crack.
    â€œYes?” he asked curtly.
    â€œOh…Mr. Hawthorn…I didn’t hear you come in…” Mrs. Dobbs was flustered by the bite in his voice. “I wanted to tell you that I’ve set the table in the formal dining room for you and Claire this evening, as I’m having some women friends in to play bridge and we’ll be taking our meal in the kitchen.”
    He seemed stuck for a reply. After a minute, he said, “We could very easily have our meal up here, so that it wouldn’t inconvenience you.”
    â€œI wouldn’t hear of it,” she said cheerfully. “You both can come down whenever you’re ready. I’ve made a cherry pie especially for Claire. I know how much she likes it.”
    She was gone with a wave of her hand.
    John closed the door and leaned his head against it, fighting against the most powerful desire he’d felt since his youth. Claire didn’t understand what she’d done to him, and he was certain that he didn’t want to tell her just yet. He was still coping with the shock of it.
    When he turned, she’d redone her buttons and was picking up the underskirt from the floor. He stared at her as if he hadn’t ever seen her before. It stunned him that she had such an effect on him. Perhaps it was the soft, helpless devotion and longing in those gray eyes that kindled his desire to such a feverish pitch. Being loved was affecting, apparently. But what disturbed him most was that he should feel such a powerful hunger for anyone other than Diane.
    It must have been a fluke, he told himself as he moved toward the doorway, back in control now and angry at her submission and his response to it.
    She glanced toward his angry face and away again, still hot inside. “You needn’t look as if the whole thing was my