“If you want an affair, Natalie, I’m your man.” His voice plummeted into throaty depravity, the want in him so quick and intense it tightened his airway.

Her lashes quivered and her pupils expanded. “I…It was just a fantasy,” she insisted—voice, tone, protest thin and insubstantial.

The elevator stopped again.

He pinned the door automatically with the well-practiced step of his foot into the sensor and the rest of him in her space.

She was off balance, breasts rising in a startled gasp as her hand went behind her searching blindly for the rail.

He braced his hands against the wall on either side of her head and took his time gazing on her wary expression, letting her get used to the idea. Some primal part of him deliberately forgot why he’d meant to let her go home alone.

“The first time I saw you I thought you would have such soft skin.” He leaned close enough to draw in the scent of her flushed cheek, letting their body heat build in the tiny space he allowed between them. Seduction was about giving a woman time to feel the want, then providing the relief.

“I’m not sure,” she whispered, but her gaze was on his mouth. Yearning parted her lips. “I didn’t mean for you to think…”

Patience, he warned himself, practically trembling with the avalanche of desire building behind his wall of self-control.

“I want this…” she whispered.

He moved in with the skill of a man who always got what he wanted, not by force, but persuasion.

Her mouth was a tender morsel that made his breath hiss out in gratification as he nuzzled it with his own. She responded hesitantly, then with openness, inviting his full possession, letting him guide her toward the sensual world he longed to explore with her. She was delightful, shy yet generous, eyes closed tight in pained pleasure. When a little sob of capitulation left her, when she brought her hands from behind her back to his chest and splayed them in a promising caress, he drew back just enough to speak.

“Come with me.”