November Harlequin Presents 2(26)

‘I got the impression the feeling was mutual.’ He looked over at her with warm-chocolate eyes that made her melt into the upholstery. Sizzle factor, that was what he had. Even when they were ostensibly talking about his grandmother, he could still melt her bones with just one glance.

‘Thank you,’ he said.

She blinked, confused. ‘For what?’

‘For handling her so well. She’s not always easy to deal with. You seemed to cheer her up a lot.’

She smiled. ‘I really enjoyed hearing those stories about growing up on the ranch back in Montana.’

He grunted. ‘Then you obviously haven’t heard them anywhere near enough.’

She laughed out loud. ‘So what was it that brought your family to Australia?’

‘Oh, the usual I guess. My father fell in love with a girl backpacking through the US. He followed her here to Queensland to convince her to go home with him, when he saw some real opportunities Down Under and gave up on convincing her and instead started convincing Nell to join them out here. They did well. Back in the eighties he was behind a lot of the development of the Gold Coast.’

‘Where are they now?’

‘Dead. Five years ago, in a light-plane crash. Nell has trouble remembering sometimes.’

Mentally she kicked herself. She should have seen that coming, given Nell’s comment about a certain Frank and Sylvia not making it to Christmas. His parents, obviously. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise. I know what it’s like to lose a parent. But I can’t imagine what it must be like to lose a child. That must be so hard for her.’ Instinctively she reached out a hand to his arm and squeezed. ‘I guess it’s probably something I’d rather forget too, if I were in her position. It’s lucky she’s got you.’

Was it? He’d never thought so. But right now he had more important things on his mind. He looked down at her hand, liking the way her long fingers and tapered nails looked on his arm, liking the way it felt, liking even more what it meant.

Tonight she seemed different. More receptive. Less defensive. And for once she wasn’t running. She was touching him. Of her own free will. And the low explosion that had hit him in the gut and burst into flame when he’d seen her emerge tonight in that floaty number fired up again on all burners.

He pulled up at a red light, caught her hand in his and lifted it, pressing her palm against her mouth. He felt the shudder move through her. He caught her gasp and the sharp rise of her chest. And still she didn’t pull away.

He gave her hand a final squeeze before setting it back in her lap as the lights turned green.

Tonight,’ he said. ‘Tonight I think it’s me who’s the lucky one.’





CHAPTER SEVEN




SHE was intoxicated before she entered the restaurant, intoxicated before she had even one sip of the glass of fine champagne Phil Rogerson pressed into her hands, already giddy with one heated car ride with a man named Maverick.

A meal was ordered and consumed, and somehow she managed to eat enough to convince everyone she was fine before her plate disappeared. A band played softly in the background but the music made no sense in her head. Conversation went on around her, fast paced and celebratory, and at times she even participated—how, she didn’t know. Because her mind was fully focused on only one man here tonight, her body one hundred per cent focused on what his loaded gaze was doing to her libido.

It was like someone had turned a switch inside her that said it was okay to feel these things, it was okay to feel this way. It was okay to want him.

Then the meal was over and Phil Rogerson and others from his team had drifted away, back to families and their homes. When Maverick simply said, ‘Dance with me,’ she knew in her heart it was the point of no return.

One last night, she thought, not wanting it to end just yet, one last opportunity…

She took his hand and stood, and looked into dark eyes that were asking much, much more of her.

‘Yes,’ she simply told him, and let him lead her to the dance floor. The music was soft and romantic and made for lovers, and it was no chore to pretend, no chore to melt into his warm embrace and feel herself become part of the music, part of him.

Her head rested against his shoulder, his solid heartbeat beating out a rhythm that beckoned to her, his arms surrounding her and holding her to him like a prize.

Yes, she thought as her body moved with his in a sensual play of flesh against fabric against flesh, a delicious friction that curled deep down inside and pooled heavy and insistent between her thighs.

Yes, her mind screamed when he dipped his head and breathed hot desire into her ear, and made all things possible.