Just Toying Around.... Rhonda Nelson

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      Meg started. “Oh. Sure. Sorry.”

      He murmured a thanks as Meg stepped back and allowed him to come in. A clean, masculine fragrance bathed her as he passed, making her knees go weak. Gathering her scattered wits, she hurried to the bed and drew the coverlet over the newest batch of products awaiting her critique, then she doubled back and unlocked her side of the connecting door. She could feel his observant gaze following her.

      “Is your side locked?” she asked.

      He shoved an impatient hand through his damp hair and swore hotly.

      Meg took that as a yes. “Er, why don’t you call down to the front desk and ask someone to come up and open your door? You can wait in here until they arrive.”

      “Thanks.” He rubbed the back of his neck, then lifted the receiver and dialed the front desk. “I’m really sorry about this. I hope I’m not keeping you from anything.”

      Meg pretended to check her watch. “I’ve got a few minutes.”

      What she really had was a bad case of lust. The man had the best ass she’d ever seen. The damp terrycloth clung to the hard muscles of his butt like butter over warm bread. The finely sculpted muscles of his back glistened with wet droplets and, strangely, Meg found herself consumed with a peculiar urge to nibble a path from his sinewy shoulder up the curiously vulnerable side of his neck.

      Heat swamped her, made her breasts heavy, her sex moist. She’d never been more attracted to a man in her life.

      “They said they’d send someone up in a moment,” he told her. He tightened his towel, glancing about the room as though unsure of what to do or say next.

      Making an attempt to be some sort of hostess, Meg hastily scooped up her discarded clothes from the back of the only desk chair. While she’d unpacked all of her things and arranged them to her satisfaction, she’d yet to clear away her dirty clothes. “Have a seat,” she offered, summoning a weak smile.

      “Thanks.” Firmly holding the towel in place, he folded his big frame into the chair.

      “So how did you come to get locked out of your room? Like that?” she asked meaningfully, gesturing toward the towel. Her gaze lingered just a fraction longer than necessary.

      “I thought I heard someone knock on my door, stepped out into the hall, and the door closed before I could get back in.” He lifted one shoulder in a negligent shrug and grinned. “Bet it happens to everyone.”

      Meg’s lips quirked. “I’m sure it does.”

      “Has it ever happened to you?”

      “Nope.”

      He chuckled, the sound a rich, deep rumble. “You could have lied. I was almost feeling better.”

      “Sorry.” Meg laughed. “Sucks to be you.”

      His eyes widened at that comment and an outright laugh burst from his chest, making the muscles dance across his abdomen. “Yes, right now, it does sorta suck to be me,” he admitted. He extended his hand. “I’m Nick Devereau, by the way.”

      “Desiree Moon.” Meg didn’t even hesitate. The lie rolled off her tongue before she’d even realized she’d said it. She didn’t know what exactly had possessed her to do that, but it felt incredibly liberating. Wicked. That settled it, Meg decided. For this week only, she would be Desiree Moon and all that persona entailed. A delightful quiver eddied through her.

      She took his hand, felt the warm masculine palm dwarf her smaller one. A zing sparkled up her spine at the contact. Swift. Tingling. Hot.

      An intriguing grin claimed his lips and an equally intriguing glint stewed in his sexy, heavy-lidded caramel gaze. “It’s a pleasure,” he murmured.

      Oy. Indeed it was.

      A brisk knock sounded at the door, breaking the charged silence.

      Meg withdrew her sensitized hand and straightened, reluctant to see him go now that she’d decided to pursue the life of her alter ego. “That’ll be for you.”

      He stood as well and followed her across the room. All the while she was aware of his scrutiny. She could feel that hot stare. It made her all shivery inside.

      Meg opened the door so that he could meet the bellhop in the hallway. He paused, then leaned toward her, bringing his tantalizing scent with him. “Thanks, again.”

      Meg resisted the urge to chew her nail. To bite her fist. “You’re welcome.”

      He turned to go, but seemingly thought better of it and swung back to face her. “Look, could we get a drink later?”

      Delight bloomed in her chest, resulting in a small smile. “Sure. Just knock.” She gestured toward the connecting door.

      He grinned. “Until then.”

      Meg leaned against the open doorway as he left, once again mesmerized by his sheer physical beauty. That back. Mercy. Hmm-hmm-hmm. That ass.

      Meg straightened, horror dawning.

      That ass…had her bra dangling from it.

      The hooks had gotten caught in the cloth.

      Meg darted out into the hall just as the bellhop planted the key card into the lock. Nick started at her abrupt appearance, then smiled. “Desiree?”

      “Nick, uhhh…”

      He frowned. “Is something wrong?”

      Meg tentatively moved toward him, her gaze darting to where her bra swung drunkenly from the towel. “I, uh…just wanted to let you know I’ll be back in my room by eight.”

      He smiled. “Okay.”

      The bellhop opened the door and Nick moved to go in. Meg lunged and attempted to covertly snatch her bra. The hook hung stubbornly, and to Meg’s slack-jawed astonishment, she not only managed to snag her bra—she snagged his towel as well.

      Mortification momentarily burned her cheeks, robbed her of speech. Her gaze was riveted to the only part of his anatomy she’d been unable to properly peruse. Unable to control herself, her lips curled into an appreciative smile.

      She’d been right.

      He was definitely well proportioned.

      3

      “FLASHING HER, that’s a direct approach. Little forward if you aren’t going to seduce her.” Ron licked his forefinger, leaned forward and smoothed his eyebrows, then stood back and admired his Fonzie-like reflection. “Myself personally, I like to woo a woman.”

      “Woo?”

      “Yes, woo. It’s all part of the chase, the thrill of the hunt.”

      “This СКАЧАТЬ