The Inconveniently Engaged Prince. Mindy Neff

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      She shook her head. “I can’t think when you kiss me.”

      “I said you kiss me. I promise to let you do all the work.”

      “You think that’ll make a difference?”

      “Won’t know till we give it a try. In the interest of an experiment, I’m willing to sacrifice myself.”

      “Does anyone ever tell you no?”

      “Sure. Lots of times.”

      His mouth was so close, smiling and inviting. The temptation was bigger than she was. “Okay. Keep your hands in your lap.”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      Stifling a bubble of laughter, she leaned over and brushed her lips against his. The spark was just as strong as a full-out kiss. What the heck. In for a penny and all that.

      She touched the side of his face, watched his eyes deepen to the color of rich moss. This time when she leaned into him, her mouth was firm, direct and mobile. The tickle of laughter turned into a silent moan of intense need.

      Although his hands remained in his lap as promised, he kissed her back. And oh, he was good at it.

      Lost in the feel of him, she forgot that she was the one supposed to be in control. She raised her other hand to his face, and put everything she had into the kiss, determined to leave him with an impression he wouldn’t soon forget.

      She was playing with fire, and it wasn’t fair, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.

      Finding that her own bones had turned liquid, she eased up, nibbled, toyed, then slowly slid back to her own side of the car.

      He sat totally silent for endless minutes. Then he raked a hand through his hair. “Wow.”

      She was having a little trouble with her own breathing, so she just smiled.

      “After that, you’ve got to promise to have brunch with me tomorrow.”

      “Did it ever occur to you that I might have other plans?”

      “Sure. But then you set me straight on several different occasions, remember?”

      Her insistence over not having or wanting a social life. “It’s not nice to gloat when you’re right.”

      “I grovel as well as I gloat.” He grinned, and the power of those dimples was like a thrilling sock to her solar plexus.

      “Mmm-hmm.”

      “You’d be doing me a huge favor. It’s Sunday brunch at my parents’ house. Although they’re great people, things like that can be tedious.”

      “Your parents’ house! I’m not crashing a family breakfast uninvited. I haven’t even met them.”

      “You won’t be crashing, I just invited you, and you’ll meet them tomorrow.”

      “You can’t just invite a guest to come home with you.”

      “Why not?”

      “It might be awkward.”

      “My mother would be insulted if she heard that. She prides herself on making company feel welcome. Come on, Vickie. I want to spend time with you. And I’d like you to meet my parents. Say yes.”

      Going home to meet his parents seemed to be rushing things, yet she couldn’t believe how much she wanted to do that. To meet the people he’d talked about, see how he’d lived, grown up.

      “I don’t know how you keep getting me to change my mind, but, yes.”

      He lifted her hand to his lips, kissed her knuckles. Stunned by the gesture, she could barely think.

      “I’ll pick you up at ten in the morning, then.”

      She nodded, watched him unfold his long, lean body and get out of the car. “Be careful driving home.”

      She merely nodded again, started the engine and backed out of the driveway.

      He’d kissed her hand. Now how was a woman supposed to concentrate on driving after that?

      HE WAS on her doorstep promptly at ten the next morning. With her nerves in a mess, she paused with her hand on the door, wondered if she should invite him in, hoped he wasn’t the sort to roam and snoop. Her bedroom looked like a teenager had gone in there and thrown a major tantrum.

      Giving her appearance one last check in the hall mirror, she took a breath to calm her nerves. She hadn’t known what to wear for a meet-the-parents brunch, and had tried on every one of her meager outfits, finally settling on a pair of black slacks, and a knit turtleneck sweater in soft heather. A black leather hip belt matched her chunky calf-high boots. The extra three-inch height the boot soles gave her made her feel a little more confident.

      She opened the door, and her nerves skittered all over again. Jace Carradigne was the epitome of the word male.

      “Hi.” He held out a slim velvet box. “This is for you.”

      “For what?” Sissy inched out from behind the couch, checking out the strange man in her domain.

      “Just because.”

      Her heart pumped. Slowly, she lifted the hinged lid, then sucked in a breath. The bracelet was simple in design, made of delicate gold links with tiny heart-shaped charms set with brilliant sapphires.”

      “Oh, my gosh. It’s beautiful. I don’t know what to say. I can’t…I shouldn’t—”

      “If you’re going to tell me you shouldn’t accept it, you’ll hurt my feelings.”

      “But it’s too much.” She couldn’t resist running her finger over the cool stones.

      “I saw it when I was poking around some shops this morning and thought of you. It matches the rings you wear.”

      She automatically fingered the two sapphire rings on her finger. She’d bought them herself. Other than her watch and a couple of pairs of earrings, they were the only jewelry she owned.

      Emotions worked in her throat. No one had ever bought her jewelry. And she’d received precious few gifts in her life. The homes she’d lived in growing up hadn’t had funds or the inclination to spend foolishly on kids who were only temporary.

      “You shouldn’t be spending this kind of money on me.”

      “Vickie, I’ve made a fortune and I’m dying to spend it. You don’t make it easy, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.”

      “Well.” She admired the bracelet, wondered why she felt weepy all of a sudden. “You handle matters very well. Thank you.”

      “You’re welcome.” Since she still hadn’t invited him in, he stepped over the threshold, took the box from her and lifted the bracelet out. “Here, СКАЧАТЬ