Rome released a soft sigh. In the next instant, he was cupping my jaw in his hands and forcing me to face him. His fingers felt wonderful. Rough and abrasive, but utterly provocative. Sensual. Hot and strong. But most surprising of all, they felt comforting. I tingled. The warm, prickling lances seeped past skin, sinking right into bone.

“Belle,” he said, his voice as gentle as his touch.

Slowly I gazed up at him.

He lowered his head. Breath caught in my throat, burning. Blistering.

I had time to protest as he slanted his lips over mine, but I didn’t. I couldn’t, not when I suddenly craved his kiss with everything inside me. He was dangerous and exciting, and with everything going on, I might not have a tomorrow. Actually, an hour from now looked pretty iffy. I would allow myself this pleasure without guilt. Without hesitation. Without pause. I’d take it, savor it, enjoy it, no matter how bad it was for me. It could very well be the last good thing to happen in my life.

He brushed my mouth once, twice. Perhaps he’d had every intention of leaving it like that, a brief, innocent touch, but I didn’t let him. I opened my mouth and gave him my tongue.

Instantly it was all systems go. For both of us. No more lassitude. No more gentleness. Only undeniable need. Moaning low in his throat, he claimed me. His tongue swept past my teeth, sinking deep, demanding total surrender.

He angled his head to the side for deeper contact. His fingers tangled in my hair, clamping tight. He tasted like hot, virile man. And something raw. Something utterly carnal. I couldn’t name it, not exactly, I only knew it was like nothing I’d ever encountered before. I wanted more, so much more.

Our tongues thrust together, eager and needy. I found myself gripping his shirt, holding him to me as if I feared he would slip away. Heat was building inside me, so much blissful heat. It began as a tiny flame, licking over my every cell, then spreading and branching through the rest of me.

My nipples hardened and strained against my shirt, abrading with my every movement. My legs weakened. I ached, yes, I ached. The fire grew. Rome seized my hair in a painful clench, as if he needed an anchor. As if he couldn’t stand the thought of releasing me for any reason. Yet in the next instant he growled and sprang away from me.

“ Rome?” I said breathlessly.

He stood an arm’s length away, his breath shallow. “You were about to burn me up,” he panted.

I was aching, burning, as he’d said. I wanted him back in my arms. Wanted his tongue in my mouth again. Wanted his erection pressed between my legs this time, sliding up and down, slowly at first, then quickly pushing me over the sweet edge of satisfaction. Except he’d meant “burn” literally. I’d almost flame-broiled him, I realized, seeing smoke curl from my hands. And still I wanted him.

How could I desire him this fiercely? Him?

I inhaled sharply, but that didn’t help. Hints of his male fragrance seeped into my nostrils. Another tide of desire slammed into me, making my stomach quiver. Making another flame roar to life there. Damn it, I shouldn’t crave him like this. Maybe-maybe we shouldn’t have done that. I was vulnerable to him now, more so than before.

My hands fisted at my sides, and I concentrated on my anger. Right now, any emotion was better than desire. He shouldn’t have kissed me! “ Rome,” I said.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said between breaths, parroting my thoughts.

“No. You shouldn’t have.” I curbed the urge to trace my swollen, pulsing mouth with my fingers.

“I’m not going to say I’m sorry.” The words were a throaty growl, cutting through the ensuing silence. “And I’m not going to tell you I won’t do it again.”

I pursed my lips, fighting a rush of pleasure. You’re angry, remember? “I didn’t ask you to, did I?”

He paused, shook his head. Surprisingly, satisfaction gleamed in his eyes. “Didn’t ask if I meant to do it again or didn’t ask me to not do it again?”

“Oh, just shut up.” I’d basically thrown myself at him, and refused to make it worse by voicing my desires. He had to know that parts of me-the most feminine parts-hoped he would do it again. Soon. My nipples were still beaded. The ache between my legs had yet to dissipate.

He reached out and traced his fingertips over my mouth, just the way I’d wanted to do myself, beckoning the fire all over again. “You can trust me,” he said. Was that a trace of guilt in his voice? “Despite everything that’s happened, or maybe because of it, you can trust me. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going to betray you.”

Oddly, I wanted to believe him. I wanted to place my life in his obviously capable (wonderfully wicked) hands. And yet, I couldn’t trust my own instincts right then; I mean, look where they’d gotten me so far.

He took my silence for capitulation and said, “I’ll check the building and surrounding area. If you stay here, you should be safe.” With a final caress of my cheek, he walked away. Or rather, disappeared, leaving behind a deflated, empty room.

My face scrunched, and my gaze jerked from one corner to another. One second he’d stood in front of me, the next he hadn’t. In fact, the only sign that he’d been here was the exquisite tingling in my face and the churning heat in my stomach.

“ Rome,” I called. I should have heard the front door close or at least a window slide. Since I’d heard neither, I padded through the dingy apartment. There was no trace of him.

How the hell had he gotten out so silently? As he’d promised, the door and windows possessed some kind of para-agent, futuristic bolt that spread silver, spiderlike legs through the wood and frame, linking them together. I highly doubted Rome could walk right through them. Or could he? After all, what did I know about the world nowadays?

“He’s gone,” I told myself. “How he left doesn’t matter.” Instead of wasting any more of my time on him, I trekked through the apartment again, this time searching for a phone. I wanted so badly to hear my dad’s voice.

Rome hadn’t lied, though. There were no phones.

“Shit.” I paced the cramped living room. If I went back to my apartment, would my phones be tapped? The call traced? If I left this building and found a pay phone, would I be followed? Killed?

Taken?

I’ll only be gone an hour, Rome had said. I had to make a decision now. Stay and wait for Rome, trusting him to keep his word and protect me. Or go, doing my best to keep myself safe-and the world safe from me.

Either way, I might make the wrong decision.

Either way, I’d be welcoming trouble with open arms.

Knowing that, I felt frustration and urgency rush through me. I massaged my temples. What I really needed was time alone, time to think this through without worrying when Rome would return. Time to make a decision on my terms, not his. Everything he’d said could very well have been a lie meant to lull me into submission. Or not. Arghh.

Something about the bargain he wanted to make bothered me, but at the moment I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what. Still, the unsettling sensation was there and I didn’t like it. Made me twitchy.

I expelled a shaky breath. Until I knew for sure and had this thing figured out, I was going to have to run. Run, just as I’d wanted to in the beginning. I’d be careful. I wouldn’t let myself feel a single volatile emotion, which would protect the world. I wouldn’t trust anyone, which would protect me.

Of course, I couldn’t go back to my apartment. I’d have to go somewhere I’d never been. Somewhere no one would think to look for me.

Determined, I fiddled with the front door for several minutes, unable to loosen it. I didn’t have long to escape, I thought, suspecting Rome would hurry back. I stared down at the doorknob. I’d never be able to pry it open.

I’d have to burn it off.