The Mistresses Collection. Оливия Гейтс

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СКАЧАТЬ her.” He slanted his head and then nodded. “Who wouldn’t?”

      “I might not plan to have any of my own, but I couldn’t spend my life with someone who thinks kids are a waste of space.”

      His lips twitched. “Bet he didn’t like puppies, either.”

      “Or kittens.”

      Zack was kind enough to smile softly. “You were right to ditch him.” Then he shifted and changed the subject. “What about your professional life?” he asked. “What are you working toward?”

      “One day I hope to be the editor in chief of the biggest, glossiest magazine around. Basically world domination in my field.” She added, “While staying clear of men who tell bad chicken jokes.”

      “No getting away from me tonight.”

      She put on a sigh. “Guess I’ll suffer for a good cause.”

      The tease in his eyes gradually took on a vaguely different light at the same time the quirk lifting one side of his mouth faded away and a different awareness began to ripple between them. The crackle from the fire sounded louder, the rise and fall of his chest became deeper. Pumping in and out of the light, the pulse at the side of his throat throbbed faster and, entranced, her body responded to it all.

      Her breasts came alive, swelling, heating. Low inside, a delicious ache flowered and grew. She watched his lips part slightly, saw his eyes darken more, then he reached out and a hot fingertip trailed her jaw. That delicious ache spread south—a sweet, raw burn.

      When he brushed back hair fallen over her face and his hot palm stayed to cup her cheek, all the oxygen in the room disappeared. Suddenly heavy, her eyelids drifted shut as her body—her very essence—gravitated unerringly toward his. With the lights out, with this extraordinary man she barely knew, everything felt so unreal. So…imminent. She didn’t want to think about who he really was. That before today she would have given him less than the time of day. At this moment, he truly was irresistible.

      “Your hair,” he said in a deep, drugging voice. “A wave came loose from its tie.”

      “Oh.” She breathed in. Out. Then the words just slipped past her lips and she said it. “I thought you might’ve wanted to kiss me.”

      That pulse in his throat beat twice as hard and, while she held her breath, he blinked slowly once. “Actually I’ve wanted to do that all night.” He leaned across and his mouth grazed hers, first slowly one way then the other. “Trouble is,” he murmured, “if I kiss you now, I won’t want to stop.”

      She quivered to her pom-pom-topped toes and clapped a hand over her scruples’ eyes.

       Who said anything about stopping?

      But then her thoughts slid back to what had brought them here in the first place. “What about the baby?”

      “You’re right,” he agreed even as his lidded eyes drifted shut. He leaned that inch closer and his mouth feathered over hers again. “We should think of our responsibilities.”

      But his mouth lingered and as his scent burrowed deeper, Trinity couldn’t recall a single reason why she shouldn’t fan her palm up over his shoulder and bring herself delectably, irreversibly closer. When he tasted the corner of her mouth—a deliberate, potent caress—that beautiful ache flooded her core and the last remnants of common sense shut down. She’d be lucky to remember her own name.

      The tip of his tongue slid a deliberate line across the seam of her lips. “Maybe if we just snuggled?” he said and she felt his grin. “You know. To keep warm.”

      When his sandpaper chin grazed the side of her face and he dropped a kiss on the shell of her ear, the knowledge—the intense glow of longing—was too much. Near dizzy with need, she told him in a husky voice, “I think snuggling would be okay.”

      A big palm traced down her side. She heard a sigh—her own—and then he was kissing her in earnest and with an innate skill that left her reeling.

      As his tongue penetrated and twined languidly with hers, everything but the ecstasy evaporated. His kiss was hot and deep and thrilling. When his head angled down and body ironed up against hers, she only surrendered more. His superior weight eased her over and back until she lay flat beneath him.

      With their mouths still locked, a satisfied noise rumbled in his chest as one arm haloed her head and the other hand held and gently directed her chin. Her splayed fingers found their way over the broad dome of his back while her foot—its slipper now lost—dragged curling toes up his hard leg and her hips pressed up longingly. She was drowning, dying in some perfect wicked dream. When the kiss deepened more and he ground against her, his arousal pressed into her belly and she groaned and reached down.

      A log crumpled and fell into its bed of hot ash. The hiss of sparks flying brought her back with a start. When she turned her head, broke the kiss, his head came up.

      His breathing was labored and his heavy gaze uncommonly dark. No hint of understanding or restraint marked in his expression. As he hovered above her, all she saw, and felt, was resolve.

      An audible rumble vibrated from his chest as his gaze lowered to devour her lips and his head gradually dropped again. Uncertain, Trinity held herself still. She’d gotten carried away, too, but did she really want to make love to a man she was supposed to despise—particularly with a baby sleeping a few feet away?

      His parted lips stopped a hairbreadth from hers. The walls receded as she swallowed deeply and the ground seemed to sink away beneath her. Then, on a real growl, he clenched his jaw and rolled away. Trinity’s heart fell at the same instant her throat clogged with a dozen different emotions. He was disappointed. Frustrated. She was sorry she’d led him on, if that’s what had happened, but he’d just have to deal with the sting of rejection like most of the population.

      Then a powerful arm scooped under her shoulders and Trinity’s heart skipped two beats as he drew her mercilessly near, half on top of him. His body was beyond hard, as if a thousand steel links had locked him into place. She felt vulnerable, still wanting him, but also a thousand times decided. She might be physically attracted to him, more than she’d been to any man, but she hadn’t come here for sex. And she intended to leave this house with that assertion intact. Regret lasted longer than pleasure.

      She was about to tell him again—no—but as that tense moment passed into another, he didn’t try to kiss her again. He simply lay there, stiff on his back, his arm holding her close, fingers beginning to drift up and down the silk of her sleeve.

      “Does this qualify as snuggling?” he asked.

      “Put me back down and I’ll tell you.”

      He considered it then eased her over until she lay beside him. Resting on an elbow, his cheek balanced in a palm, he gazed down at her. “We should probably get some sleep.”

      “That’s a good idea.”

      He nodded and when his arm reached under and brought her gently over, she didn’t resist. Making love might be out of the question, but she wasn’t made of stone. What harm could come from cuddling with a man-god on a chilly night?

      As her cheek gradually lowered to rest against the hard plateau of his T-shirt-covered chest, Trinity let out a long end-of-the-day СКАЧАТЬ