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It was a big box, and remembering how he had felt against her earlier, she'd also bought the larger size.
    "Then let's go."
    He sounded more like they were headed to another committee meeting than back to his apartment to make love for the first time. Maybe it was that unmomentous to him.
    It wasn't to her, and she grimaced as she ground the gears, pulling away from the curb. Maybe she should have asked him to drive. Her palms were sticky, and her heart was beating so fast, she was feeling a little dizzy.
    But he didn't say anything about the ground gears, and she made it to his apartment building without further incident.
    When she parked, he got out, came around and opened her door before opening the trunk and pulling out her luggage. He carried it all to the elevator, and she followed, finding it impossible to break the deafening silence that had fallen between them.
    By the time they reached his apartment, she was more nervous than she'd ever been in her life.
    He went straight back to his bedroom, and she followed, feeling more like she was walking to her doom than approaching her first experience with true and fulfilling passion.
    The midnight blue and cream of the room was softened slightly by the recessed lighting, but she still felt the powerful impact of the masculinity of the furnishings.

    The dark wood and stark colors made her feel as though she'd entered an alien world.
    Rand dropped her cases on a padded bench at the foot of his oversized king bed and turned to face her. "You changed your clothes." He made it sound like an accusation.
    "It's more comfortable." She'd taken off her formal gown and put on a long denim skirt and lightweight tan sweater set.
    "Did you change what's underneath?"
    The way he was looking at her made her feel as if he could already see for himself. It certainly felt like his eyes were burning through her clothes. "No."
    "Let me see."
    "You want me to take my clothes off?" she squeaked.
    "Yes."
    "Right now?"
    "It would make what we're going to do a lot easier," he said dryly.
    Unemotionally.
    And she just couldn't do it. "No."
    His brows rose at that. "You want me to have sex with you with your clothes on? I didn't expect a virgin to have any fetishes."
    This was not going to work. She wanted him, but his mockery and lack of any discernable emotion made it clear that making love to her meant nothing to him.
    She could accept that it was just sex, but not that it was negligible sex. "You're doing it on purpose, aren't you?" she demanded, the tether on her emotions frayed and breaking. "You don't want to make love anymore, and you're making fun of me so I'll leave. Well, it worked. I don't want you touching me."
    And she didn't, not when it meant humiliating herself in the process. She'd had enough of that tonight to last a lifetime.
    She was halfway out the bedroom door when two strong hands grabbed her from behind and spun her to face him. "I'm not making fun of you, Phoebe." He touched her face, his expression without humor and almost scary. "I want you too much to be charm personified right now. I'm dying for another glimpse of you in your sexy lingerie, and maybe it's made me a little crazy."
    "It has?"
    "Yeah."
    Crazy she understood because she'd been acting insane since he caught her spouting off to her aunt earlier that evening.
    "I brought a nightgown," she blurted out.
    The corner of his lips tilted. "You won't need it."
    "But I…" She'd thought if she could change in the bathroom or something, she could make the transition to bed without giving in to her nerves and running for the hills.
    His finger pressed against her lips. "Shh. It's going to be all right."
    Then he kissed her, and it wasn't like the kisses before. As much as he said he wanted her, his lips were gentle and coaxing, drawing forth her inexperienced passion when she thought those feelings had been frozen by his seeming indifference.

    He tasted her, almost tenderly running his tongue over her lips, sensitizing