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own. She was drowning in him, lost in his heat, in the blaze of desire that raged between them. The fingers of one hand sank into the silken thickness of his hair, the other clutching at his shoulders as he drew her closer, managing to open his door and manoeuvre them both into the privacy of his room. As the door closed he leaned back against it, his hands cupping the swell of her rear and drawing her hips to his, making her gloriously aware of his arousal.
    'Are you married?' she gasped, when she could force herself to drag her mouth from his.
    'Hell, no.'
    She whimpered as his lips worked their way along her neck, the rasp of his stubble on her skin an exciting caress. 'Living with anyone?'
    'No.'
    'Otherwise attached?'
    'No.' Cameron's breath was as ragged as her own. 'You?'
    'None of the above.'
    'Thank God.'
    Ginger wanted to rip his clothes off there and then. She had never experienced such an elemental need, such a desperate desire. He widened his stance and her hips settled more snugly against his. They fitted together perfectly. But it wasn't enough. She yearned for more. A terrible ache settled deep inside her, craving fulfilment, and she urgently rubbed herself against him, seeking relief. He groaned, his mouth on her throat, his teeth delivering erotic bites on her sensitive skin, his warm, moist tongue salving the delicious sting, tasting her, making her shiver with excitement.
    'Are you on the Pill?'
    'No.' The reality sank in. He raised his head and, eyes wide, she stared at him, unable to believe her brazenness. 'Have you got anything?'
    Cameron looked tortured. 'No. I don't carry a supply around with me in case of moments like this, you know.'
    Part of her was very relieved to hear it, the rest of her wanted to weep with frustration. She supposed they could ask the night porter at the front desk, or find a chemist that was open late, but that sounded too tacky, too clinical, cheapening what until then had been spontaneous, special, right. Yet the thought of walking away, of not being with him, brought a crushing wave of regret and disappointment.
    Clenching her hands in the fabric of his shirt, she looked into passion-darkened grey eyes. 'What are we going to do?'
    'Well...' He watched her, his smile turning naughty, his voice husky with need. 'There are other things we could do to improvise.'
    Temptation curled through her at his suggestion, her imagination running riot, her pulse racing, her breath shallow as she wrestled with her decision.
     
    Cameron was sure he would drown in Ginger's luminous, turquoise-blue gaze. She was amazing. Her sleeveless, knee-length blue dress, while not deliberately revealing, accentuated every delectable feminine contour of her body. He'd been anticipating a flowery perfume, maybe, even a spicy one, but the fruity scent of her hair and skin nearly drove him mad. He licked his lips, savouring the tang of her that lingered in his mouth. She tasted good enough to eat. Warm summer berries— ripe, juicy, succulent. His throat tightened, his stomach tightened...other parts of him tightened.
    Her skin, flushed now with desire, was as peachy soft to the touch as he had imagined it would be, her hair like finest silk against his fingers. And kissing her was sensational. He closed his eyes, reliving the moment he had set his mouth to hers as he had longed to do, finding her honey-sweet, then gliding his lips down her throat, feeling her pulse quicken under his touch. His eyelashes lifting, he watched the emotions chasing each other across her incredible eyes, wondering if he'd shocked her or upset her by his suggestion. Desperate for this time with Ginger not to end, he wished he was the type to carry condoms around. But moments like this hadn't happened to him in a very long while—not since before his doomed marriage to Lisa—and he certainly hadn't expected any kind of liaison on this trip.
    Now, though, he wanted Ginger more than he had ever wanted anyone in his life.