Opposites Attract by Nora Roberts Page A

wanting you. Even hating you I wanted you. Do you know what it’s like to be awake at three o’clock in the morning and need someone, and know she’s in another man’s bed?”
    â€œNo, no, don’t.” She was clinging to him, her cheek pressed against his, her eyes tightly shut. “Ty, don’t.”
    â€œDon’t what?” he demanded as he drew her head back. “Don’t hate you? Don’t want you? Hell, I can’t do anything else.”
    His eyes blazed into her, dark with fury, hot with passion. She could feel the race of his heart compete with hers. Abandoning pride, she pressed her lips to his.
    At the instant of contact he stood still, neither giving nor taking. On a moan she drew him closer, letting her lips have their way. A shudder coursed through him, an oath ripped out, then he was responding, demanding, exciting. Why had he tried to resist? Nothing was clear to him as her lips raced crazily over his face. Wasn’t this what he wanted? To have her again, to prove he could, to purge his system of her once and for all? Motives dimmed in desire. There was only Asher—the sweet taste of her, her scent more heady, more seductive than the garden of flowers. He couldn’t breathe and not fill himself on her. So he surrendered to the persuading lips and soft body that had haunted his dreams.
    Dragging his lips from hers only a moment, Ty pulled her through the fragile branches of a willow. The sun filtered through the curtain of leaves, giving intermittent light. In the cool dimness his mouth sought hers again and found it yielding. The blood pounded in his veins.
    He had to know if her body was the same, unchanged during the years he’d been denied her. As his hand took her breast he groaned. She was small and firm and familiar. Through the material of her jacket he felt the nipple harden in quick response. Impatient, he tugged the zipper down, then dove under her shirt until he found the smooth tender flesh that had always made him feel his hands were too rough. Yet she didn’t draw away as his calluses met her. She pressed against him. Her moan was not one of discomfort, but of unmistakable pleasure.
    Trembling, her fingers reached for his hair. He could feel the urgency in them just as he could taste it on her heated lips. He broke his kiss only to change angles, then deepened it, allowing his tongue to drink up all the dark flavors of her mouth. Against his palm her heart thudded wildly, but only his fingers moved to arouse her.
    Slowly his other hand journeyed to her hip to mold the long, slender bone. He was lost somewhere between yesterday and today. The heavy fragrance of flowers still wet with morning dew was more seductive than perfume. Half dreaming, Ty took his mouth to her throat. He heard her sigh float off on the scented air. Was she dreaming too? Was the past overlapping this moment for her as well as for him? The thoughts drifted into his mind, then out again before they could be answered. Nothing mattered but that he was holding her again.
    From far off came a ripple of laughter. Ty brought his mouth back to Asher’s. A rapid smattering of French drifted to him. Ty drew her closer until their bodies seemed fused. Footsteps and a giggle. Like a dreamer, he sensed the intrusion and swore against it. For another moment he clung, drawing on her lingering passion.
    When he released her, Asher was breathless and swaying. Wordlessly he stared down at her with eyes nearly black with emotion. Her lips were parted, swollen from his, and he gave in to need and kissed her one long last time. Gently now, slowly, to store up every dram of sweetness. This time she trembled, her breath coming harsh and fast like that of a diver who breaks surface after a long submersion. Disoriented, she gripped his arms.
    How long had they been there? she wondered. It could have been seconds or days. All she was sure of was that the longing had intensified almost