Название | Tall, Dark And Daring |
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Автор произведения | Joanne Rock |
Жанр | Современные любовные романы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Современные любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474019897 |
He let her enter first.
“Give it up, Tessa. You adored it.” Mitch couldn’t help but admire the sway of her hips as she walked.
The ski pants she’d worn all day accentuated every curvy nuance, taunting him with the memory of the sexy body her staid business suits couldn’t quite hide.
“Sure I did.” She hesitated a moment when she noticed the small couch, but she sank down into the soft green cushions anyway. “That’s why I screamed the entire time, right?”
“That’s how I know you loved it.” He switched on the fireplace in front of them and dropped down on the love seat a few feet away.
Her cheeks flushed before she turned to stare into the blaze. The shrieking she’d done today hadn’t been exactly like the primal cries he remembered from their days spent together between the sheets, but the sound had still fired his blood.
She ignored his remark and seemed to make an effort to keep their conversation on track. “The bobsled was awesome.”
“Best bobsled run I’ve ever been down.” He closed his eyes to savor the memory. Seated behind her on the sled, he’d practically had his legs wrapped around her for an electrifying sixty-three and half seconds.
Now she propped those legs on a leather hassock, and Mitch’s mouth watered.
“Have you ever thought about doing a regional publicity tour to promote your snowboards to the locals?” she asked suddenly, as if the business wheels had started turning in her much-too-busy mind again.
He shifted beside her, partly to get closer to her, partly to ease the arousal that had plagued him ever since they’d sat down. “I’m not thinking about work right now, Tessa.”
In fact, his thoughts had more to do with wrestling those ski pants from her thighs, but he knew he’d be a fool to move too fast. He should be grateful she’d spent all day with him, ostensibly reviewing possible future product lines for Mogul Ryders by trying out every winter sport Lake Placid had to offer.
He wouldn’t push her, damn it.
But maybe he could allow himself one kiss.
He leaned close enough to breathe in the scent that had teased his senses all day. She smelled like exotic flowers. The scent was definitely more neon yellow than navy blue, and it aroused the hell out of him.
He just needed one taste. Just to see if she was as sweet as he remembered.
“There are so many potential customers here.” Her voice faltered as he hovered near. “So many good opportunities.” She yanked a corner of the throw blanket over her lap, as if the frail network of yarn would discourage him.
Fat chance. He could tell by the agitated flick of her tongue over her lips that she wanted the kiss as badly as he did.
He brushed the afghan away, skimming his hand over her thighs. “I’m only interested in following up on one particular opportunity, Tessa.”
Sliding one arm around her waist, he pulled her to him. Her breathing hitched at the contact of his fingers underneath the hem of her sweater. He paused, drinking in the feel of her smooth skin as he splayed his hand over her back.
When her eyes drifted shut, as if she surrendered all control to him, Mitch homed in on her mouth for the kiss he’d dreamed about for eight years.
He groaned at the absolute perfection of her. The lips that were soft as a bubble bath. The scent that drugged him into behaving like a hormone-overloaded teenager. The taste that wavered between earthy-sexy and divinely sweet.
Every drop of blood in his veins surged south. At just one blasted kiss.
What made him think he could ever stop at just a kiss? He left her lips long enough to sample her neck and the hollow valley at her throat. Her fingers bore into his shoulders, and a strangled cry reached his ears.
“Mitch.” She gasped in time with the hungry swipes of his mouth over her neck. “We can’t.”
He could think of about a million reasons they definitely should. The first being her heart hammering against his chest at least as fiercely as his own.
“Why not?”
She inched backward, inserting a sliver of space between them. “Because this will interfere with our work. Besides, we’ve been down this path, and it doesn’t have a happy ending.”
Her words rained ice on his wayward libido. Not nearly enough to freeze it over, but enough to resurrect his ability to reason. He sure as hell couldn’t jeopardize his plan to make her stay because of his hunger for Tessa.
If she left in a huff because he couldn’t keep his hands off her, then his business suffered. More than anything, he needed to please her first.
Himself second.
In that case, he needed to take it slowly…maybe get away from the temptation of the inn and the sensual memories it posed, or he’d be right back to trying to kiss her within twenty-four hours. He wanted her so much he couldn’t see straight.
Then the perfect solution hit.
He slid away from her. “How about that publicity tour?”
She blinked. “What?”
He was gratified to see the pulse still throb in the small valley between her collarbones. It must have been at least a little bit of a struggle for her to pull away, too.
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