Sensual Winds. Carmen Green

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      He’d never been kissed like this before, and he held her there, enjoying the journey through this uncharted and gentle place

      She caressed the back of his head, and when he thought she was separating from him, he was filled with irrational longing, and he grabbed her arms and used his lips to capture her by the chin.

      He’d seen animals mate on nature shows, their foreplay of nipping one another playful and gentle, and he understood that visceral animalistic instinct to claim one and make that one his own.

      Purring started deep in her belly, and he put his arms around her, knowing she felt that magnetism too, and when the moans were nearly out of her, he sealed her mouth with his so they released into him.

      The pressure of her mouth lessened and she eased off her toes, her hands busy at his waist. Her fingers tangled with his as they battled for who’d get his belt loosened first.

      “Let me.”

      “I can do it faster,” he told her.

      CARMEN GREEN

      was born in Buffalo, New York, and had plans to study law before becoming a published author. While raising her three children, she wrote her first book on legal pads and transcribed it onto a computer on weekends before selling it in 1993. Since that time she has sold more than thirty novels and novellas, and is proud that one of her books was made into a 2001 TV movie, Commitments, in which she had a cameo role.

      In addition to writing full-time, Carmen is now a mom of four, and lives in the Southeast. You can contact Carmen at www.carmengreen.blogspot.com or [email protected].

       Sensual Winds

       Carmen Green

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      MILLS & BOON

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      To Lori Bryant Woolridge, Nina Foxx, Martrice Denson.

       I’ll cherish our friendship always.

      To the Sparrow. I’ll see you in the Rapture someday.

      Dear Reader,

      To the sensual backdrop of Herbie Hancock’s CD Possibilities, Brenda Jackson and I brainstormed our MOTHER NATURE MATCHMAKER novels over the phone one evening.

      I am always honored to work with a master, and Brenda is one of the best in our profession. She’s chock-full of ideas and always respectful of mine. Ironically, when we got on the phone, we both had our TVs tuned to the same station and the documentary was chronicling how Herbie created his masterpiece. My favorite song on the CD? “A Song for You.”

      I’m honored to have worked with Brenda and Celeste Norfleet on this series, and I want you all to enjoy our highly favored men of Key West. My thanks to Brenda and Celeste and to you all for giving us the opportunity to entertain you once again.

      I’d love to hear your thoughts on my book Sensual Winds. Write to me at carmengreen.blogspot.com or [email protected].

      Blessings,

      Carmen

      Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 1

      There was a rhythm to New York City at 7:00 p.m. that no other city could duplicate. Throngs of people streamed down sidewalks and into streets, the innocuous traffic lights controlling every man and woman, car, taxi and bus.

      Today Manhattan was a little different; brightened by the mayor, who’d declared it Smile Day. Dozens of volunteers had been dispatched around Manhattan to take pictures of anyone who was smiling, and then they were given their photo.

      Today, everybody was smiling in New York City at dusk.

      Ten floors up from the bustling streets, Doreen Gamble sat at her desk and touched the corner of her smiling photo. Her pace had been frenetic at lunch. She had been trying to balance a tray of two large cups of green tea, a boxy Crate and Barrel wedding gift for a coworker, a prized bag of Christian Louboutin silk lace-up sandals and a political magazine when she’d been asked if she wanted to brighten up New York with her smile. It didn’t hurt that the photographers had goofy Smile tiaras on their heads.

      They’d been so irresistible, she’d been glad to show off her whitened, otherwise uncorrected thirty-twos. She didn’t even mind donating to the charity that supported the 9/11 memorial fund. She’d arrived back at work feeling as if she’d done some good for the world.

      The back line rang, and her thoughts returned to the here and now. Doreen hoped it was Lucas. Lately, his no-news updates had left her disappointed, but she hoped he had some good news today.

      “Good morning—evening, sorry,” Doreen corrected, shoving her long hair behind her ear. “How may I help you?”

      “You work so much you don’t even know if it’s day or night? Tell that woman of mine to give you a day off.”

      Lucas McCoy’s voice had the power to make her feel as if even on her worst day she was the prettiest girl in the room. If he made every woman feel this way, it was no wonder he did more renovation jobs for women than men.

      Who could help having a tiny crush on him? She couldn’t.

      “Put me on webcam, Doreen,” he said. She blushed, wishing she’d had a few extra minutes to fix herself up. Lucas wasn’t her man, but she still didn’t want to look bad to him.

      She did as he instructed. “We’re on. Hey there,” she said, seeing the handsome man who was in his jeans and T-shirt.

      “Hi.” He waved. “Now, about the crazy hours you work. You need to stand up for yourself. Stomp around your desk with your picket sign. She’ll get the hint.”

      Doreen laughed. “Yeah, okay. I like having a job. Besides, would she care? I don’t think so. My job is to be here, at seven at night, waiting for a phone call from that crazy, distant place called Key West, and a man named Lucas who’s calling to tell me about an Alfiere Italian sink. Tell me you have good news.”

      She’d said it all as if she were in a poetry reading, letting the words drop and roll in all the right places.

      “I’m