Girl Least Likely to Marry. Amy Andrews

more time. Red light.

      ‘Allow me.’

      Cassie’s fingers stilled as Tuck’s hand slid over them. His body moved in behind hers and she was instantly cocooned in his intoxicating aroma. She shut her eyes as her nipples responded to the blatant cue. She could feel his breath in her hair, the warm press of his chest against her back, the power of his thighs behind hers.

      She leant her forehead against the door, desperately reaching for logic. ‘I spend all day probing the outer depths of our solar system through a massive telescope,’ she said. ‘I’m pretty sure I can open a damn door.’

      ‘Shh,’ Tuck said, easing the key out of her unresisting fingers. ‘Some things don’t need big brains,’ he murmured. He took the plastic. ‘Some things need a slow hand…an easy touch.’

      He slid the card through the strip with deliberate slowness. The lock whirred, the light turned green and he smiled as he turned the handle and pushed the door open a fraction.

      ‘Easy.’

      Cassie practically whimpered at the low, deep sound of his Southern accent. It weaved around her like the melodic notes of a snake charmer, trapping her. The door was right there. It was open. All she needed to do was move. But she couldn’t.

      ‘Cassie?’

      Tuck could feel her trembling and a surge of desire crested in his belly. His groin tightened. His blood slowed to a thick, primal bound. He laid a gentle hand on her shoulder and, to his surprise, she turned. Only a whisper separated them as heat flashed like a solar flare between them.

      Her eyes looked all misty and dazed, her pupils large in the grey-blue depths. They seemed to shimmer up at him and he fell headlong into them. Her mouth was slightly parted and it drew his gaze. He picked up a long dark ringlet draped forward over her shoulder and wound it around his finger. ‘Has anyone ever told you you’re quite beautiful?’

      Cassie’s throat was dry as a sandpit as she shut her eyes against the seduction in his. No one had ever told her that. And she’d never cared. ‘I’ve never aspired to be beautiful,’ she dismissed. She was more comfortable with brainy.

      He waited for her lashes to flutter open again before saying, ‘Well, you’ve failed.’

      Tuck only intended to give her the briefest of kisses as he slid his palm onto her cheek. Just a little taste of her mouth. The mouth that had dissed him all night. Just to show her how pretty damn clever he could be.

      And to leave her wanting more.

      But the second his mouth touched hers and she opened to him as if he was water and she was dying of thirst it all went flying out of the window.

      Cassie mewed as his lips brushed hers and her senses filled up with him. There was no thought or logic or analysis in play any longer as she overdosed on his intoxicating scent, sucking him in, drenching her cells in his pheromones. Her body had completely taken over and left her brain out of the equation.

      She raised herself up on tiptoes. Her hands slid around his neck. Her mouth parted of its own accord. She moaned and dragged him closer as hot, scalding lust lashed her insides and flayed her flesh with the driving need for more.

      It didn’t make any sense. Not when she swiped her tongue across his lips, or pushed it inside, or stroked it against his. Not when she moaned. Not when she gasped. Not when she grabbed his lapels to press herself closer.

      She’d never been kissed like this.

      She’d never kissed like this.

      And still she was full of him. Her head buzzed with the essence of him. Her mouth was on fire. Her belly was tight. The heat between her legs tingled and burned.

      Tuck barely managed to hold onto her as Cassie kissed him as if she was an evil genius intent on wicked things and he was her latest experiment. He might not be dumb as a rock but he was certainly as hard as one now as her deep, sexy kisses, body-squirming and desperate little whimpers stroked all his hot spots.

      She even kissed differently from other women. No mouth gymnastics, no hands down his pants in seconds, no theatrical panting, no Oh, baby, baby. Just a scorching one hundred percent, full-throttle touchdown of a kiss. Her lips on his lips. Open and going for it.

      He pushed her hard against the door, wanting to get closer, to kiss her deeper. But he’d forgotten it was already slightly open and she stumbled backwards. Their mouths tore apart.

      He grabbed for her, finding her elbow, dropping it once she’d stabilised. And then they stood staring at each other, breathing hard, not moving for a moment, neither sure which way to jump.

      Tuck knew enough about women to know that look in Cassie’s eyes. He knew he could pick her up, stride into her room and lay her on the bed and she’d follow wherever he took her. And enjoy every single second of it.

      But he saw a whole bunch of other stuff in her eyes too. Most of it he couldn’t decipher. But he could see her confusion quite clearly. Obviously that kiss just did not compute for Cassie.

      She looked as if she needed some time to wrap her head around it. Hell, he sure as hell did!

      ‘Are you okay?’

      Cassie nodded automatically but she doubted she’d ever be okay again. What the hell had just happened? She felt as if she’d just had a lobotomy. Could a kiss render you stupid?

      ‘I think I should go now. Unless…’ He dropped his gaze to her swollen mouth.

      Cassie shook her head and took a step back. No ‘unless’. Go, yes. Just go. He’d turned her into a dunce.

      Tuck smiled at her dazed look. It was nice to have left an impression on Little-Miss-Know-It-All, even if he was going to go to bed with a hard-on the size of Texas. ‘Goodnight, Cassiopeia.’

      Cassie was incapable of answering him. She feared she’d been struck mute. As well as dumb. She watched him swagger to his room opposite, slot his key in, open his door. He turned as he stepped into his room.

      ‘I’ll be right over here. If you need a cup of shhu-gar.’

      Cassie had no pithy comeback as his door clicked quietly shut.

      THREE

      After tossing and turning for most of the night—not something that was good for her sanity—Cassie woke at nine a.m. and the first thing she thought about was Tuck. She dragged a pillow over her head and bellowed a loud, furious denial.

      She always woke at six. And most certainly never thought about a man.

      Cassie’s brain was engaged the moment her eyes flicked open after her regulation eight hours’ sleep. For the last several years her waking thoughts had centred on her aurora research and she’d spring out of bed and head straight for her computer.

      This morning her head was full of Tuck and the kiss.

      Her computer, the research, her will to live—all lost in a sea of oestrogen.

      She yanked the pillow off her head and turned on her side. Her baggy T-shirt was twisted around her torso and the movement pulled it taut against her breasts. Her nipples responded to the brush of fabric, her belly clamped, and a red-hot tingle took up residence at the juncture of her thighs.

      Cassie dragged some deep breaths in and out, trying to conjure up the latest deep-space images she’d seen yesterday. But it was no use—she could still smell him in her nostrils and taste him on her mouth.

      The phone rang and she snatched it up immediately, grateful for something else to do, to think about.

      ‘Hello?’

      ‘Cassie, get off that computer and get your heiny down here now,’ Marnie demanded. ‘Reese is back and we’re having breakfast.’

      Her friend’s Southern accent reminded her of Tuck’s lazy Texan drawl and Cassie almost groaned