Название | Misbehaving Under the Mistletoe |
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Автор произведения | Heidi Rice |
Жанр | Короткие любовные романы |
Серия | Mills & Boon M&B |
Издательство | Короткие любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781472097064 |
‘It was rude of me to leave without saying anything,’ she whispered.
He propped his butt on the edge of the sofa. Hitched his shoulders as he shoved his fists deeper into his pockets. ‘You never gave me an answer.’ A crooked smile lifted his lips. ‘I guess I’m not used to women doing that. I wasn’t expecting you to be gone this morning.’
It was as she suspected. His ego had been dented. Nothing more dramatic than that.
He levered himself off the sofa. ‘Let me ask again, the way I should have done when I walked in. Instead of giving you a hard time.’
And a kiss that had nearly blown the top of her head off, Cassie added silently as he took one hand out of his pocket and touched her cheek.
She shivered, the contact as electric as it had been a moment ago, even though he was barely touching her.
He stroked his thumb across her lips. ‘How do you feel about hanging out with me, till I go back to New York on New Year’s Day?’
‘You live in New York?’ she said a bit inanely.
‘Haven’t I mentioned that already?’
She shook her head.
He smiled. ‘Seems like we’ve got some catching up to do. We’ve kind of done this thing backwards, haven’t we?’
What thing? They didn’t have a thing, she thought, her panic button tripping again.
‘So do I get an answer this time?’ he prompted.
But he didn’t sound nearly as sure of himself as he had yesterday. The thought made her feel a little less wary of him. That cast-iron control had slipped when he’d kissed her. If only for a moment. And it made him seem a tiny bit less overpowering.
She took a steady breath and opted to tell him the truth. ‘My answer is, I’m not sure.’
He tilted his head to one side, rubbed one of her curls between his thumb and forefinger. ‘What’s not to be sure about?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know you.’
‘We’ll get to know each other.’ His lips curved into a rueful smile. ‘As much as I’d like to spend the next ten days making nonstop love to you, even I have my limits. And we’ll probably have to eat occasionally. Which means we’ll no doubt have to talk to each other.’
She stepped back, tucked her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, impossibly tempted by the chance to get to know him better. But she would have to tell him the rest first.
She met his eyes. ‘I got hurt. Nine months ago. When my last relationship ended. And I don’t want to get involved with anyone right now.’
‘Involved?’ His eyebrows shot up. ‘How does ten days of small talk and great sex equal involved?’
‘It doesn’t,’ she corrected quickly. She didn’t want him thinking she was a romantic fool. Because she wasn’t. Not any more. ‘I know it doesn’t. Which is a good thing. Because that’s definitely not what I want.’
He slipped his hand round her waist, hauled her against him. ‘Then there isn’t a problem.’ He kissed her, lingering on her lips this time, making her sex ache and her breasts swell and tighten. ‘Is there?’
Could it really be that simple?
The crooked smile became even more charming. ‘You know, Cassidy, you’re being a bit of a girl about this.’
‘That’s possibly because I am a girl,’ she pointed out, not sure whether to laugh at the statement or be affronted.
‘I know.’ He kissed her again. ‘And that’s a very good point. But why don’t I give you a guy’s perspective?’ he said, as if he were humouring her. ‘To help clarify things.’
‘Okay,’ she said, intrigued to see where this was going.
‘The truth is,’ he began, ‘I’m not the sort of guy anyone gets involved with. And for a very good reason. I’m not remotely reliable,’ he said, not sounding in the least bit ashamed of his lack of constancy.
‘You got involved with your wife, didn’t you?’ she countered.
He cleared his throat. ‘She’s my ex-wife. Which sort of proves my point.’
‘Fair enough.’
‘So as I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted,’ he admonished, his eyes twinkling. ‘You don’t need to worry about me expecting more from this relationship than you want to give me. Because I can guarantee you. I won’t want more than I’ve asked for, which is—’
‘Great sex and small talk,’ she finished for him.
‘Exactly!’ he said as if she were a brilliant student and he the teacher. ‘You see, guys are very straightforward. We want what we say on the tin. There is hardly ever a hidden subtext. And there certainly isn’t one here.’
‘And what does your tin say?’ she asked, unable to stifle a grin.
The man was a complete rogue where women were concerned. And while she probably shouldn’t find his lack of scruples refreshing, somehow she did. David and Lance had both pretended to be something they weren’t. Namely dependable and reliable and in the market for a real relationship when they never had been. While Jace, for all his wicked ways, had been honest about what he wanted. And what he didn’t.
Nessa had told her he wasn’t a cheater. And she’d been spot on.
He smiled as the desire in his eyes intensified. He pressed against her, the rigid arousal making her hormones do a very happy dance indeed. ‘My tin says that I don’t get involved.’ He sank his fingers into her hair, framing her face. ‘But I do have some other fine qualities that we can explore at our leisure for eleven whole days.’
He lowered his head, until his lips hovered over hers. ‘What do you say, Cassidy? Are you gonna go for it or not? Ladies’ choice.’
As arousal sprinted through her system and her body swayed instinctively into his, Cassie knew she was lost, the promise of pleasure in his eyes, and the feel of the thick ridge outlined against her abdomen, too tempting to resist a second time.
Circling his waist and lifting on tiptoe, she closed the distance and settled her lips on his. The kiss was slow and easy this time, but a smouldering heat built in her belly that quickly threatened to rage out of control.
He pulled back, his ragged breathing matching hers. ‘I’ll take that as a yes, then?’
She nodded, her tongue too numb to speak—and her mind too dazed with passion to consider refusing. Optimism flooded through her as he bent to devour the pulse point in her neck, then grasped her thigh to hook her leg over his hip. He pushed her back against the wall, ground the heavy weight of his sex into the juncture of her thighs, making moisture release in a rush through the denim of her jeans.
She arched against him, pushing herself into the hardness, desperate to feel it inside her again.
But when the heart bump came this time, the panic didn’t follow.
This was about sex. Really amazing sex. And nothing more. She’d examined the pitfalls and knew what they were, so she could guard against them. But she wouldn’t even have to.
She’d tried to complicate something that was remarkably simple.
Those telltale bumps in her heartbeat had been caused by the intensity of her arousal, that was all. And she’d panicked. But there was nothing to panic about. And there never had been.
She could have her candy … and eat it too.