Tropical Fantasy. Monica McKayhan
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Название: Tropical Fantasy
Автор: Monica McKayhan
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
Серия: Mills & Boon Kimani
isbn: 9781472011763
isbn:
“They are the most honest people on the face of the earth. You don’t have to pretend with them. You just have to protect them. And teach them to take care of their teeth.” Vince polished off his Black Russian and raised his glass for Jake to bring him another.
“Their teeth, huh?” Sasha asked, and then she remembered her conversation with Bridget earlier. “You’re a dentist.”
“Yes.” Vince grinned. “A pediatric dentist.”
“Oh.” Sasha covered her mouth with her hand, wondering if he’d already inspected her teeth.
“Don’t worry. You have a nice set of teeth.” It was as if he’d read her mind. “I’ve already checked them out.”
“You are...something else.” Sasha smiled and shook her head. She found herself more engaged than she wanted to be.
She raised her glass to alert Jake that she needed another Brown Russian, and before long she’d polished off three. Suddenly Vince’s jokes became outrageously funny, and Sasha found herself laughing long and hard—and loudly. Vince pulled his chair around closer to Sasha, until she could feel his breath on her neck. His cologne crept its way into her nostrils.
“You smell wonderful,” she whispered.
His lips pressed themselves against hers, and his tongue teased the inside of her mouth. Whatever good sense she had was out the window as Vince took her to a new level of delight. His huge hand palmed her head and pulled her closer, and she wondered what that hand would feel like on her breast and even between her thighs. It had been a very long time since she’d even been kissed by a man. With his gentle touch, Vince had awakened every sensation in her and she got lost in the moment. She simply got lost.
* * *
As the bright sunshine beamed through her window and crept across her face, Sasha slowly and reluctantly opened her eyes. Her head was pounding—the alcohol had proved to be a more powerful force than she thought. She groaned, regretting every Brown Russian that she’d indulged in with a man whom she barely knew. It was her sister’s wedding day, and she knew she wouldn’t have the luxury of recovering from her awful hangover. She needed to meet the other girls for hair and makeup at eleven. And the nuptials were scheduled to take place at noon. As much as it pained her, she needed to know what time it was, and she slowly turned her aching head to look at the digital clock on the nightstand.
With a loud shriek, she jumped out of bed.
“What are you doing here?” she asked Vince, who was nestled beneath the crisp white sheets in her bed. She grabbed her thick bathrobe from the chair and wrapped it around her naked body. “Oh, my God! Did you...did we?”
“Did we make love?” Vince was calm and didn’t move.
“Did we have sex?”
“Having sex sounds so cheap and lustful. Making love sounds so much more passionate.” Vince smiled and sat up in bed.
“Oh, no, this is bad. This is so bad. I never sleep with guys on the first date. Was this even a date?”
“I’d say it was a date,” he mused.
“This isn’t funny, Vince. We barely even know each other.” Sasha plopped down into the chair. Her hands covered her face as she contemplated her predicament.
A loud knock on the door shook her from her thoughts.
“Sasha!” Her mother’s voice wasn’t one that she needed to hear at the moment. “Sasha, honey, open up! It’s Mom.”
“Shh,” Sasha mouthed to Vince as she pressed her index finger against her lips.
Charlotte knocked again. “Sasha, are you in there? You have hair and makeup in thirty minutes.”
Sasha’s heart pounded while her mother knocked two more times. She hoped Charlotte hadn’t talked housekeeping into giving her a spare key to the room. Vince stood and slipped his jeans on and buckled his belt. Sasha took in the curve of his bare chest and arms. She wondered if those arms had held her hips steady in the middle of the night or if they’d wrapped themselves around her naked body just hours before.
Sasha sighed with relief when her mother stopped knocking. She was gone.
“You have to go,” she told Vince. “If I know Charlotte Winters, she’ll be back. And she won’t knock next time.”
Vince buttoned his silk shirt and slipped his loafers on his feet. He walked over to Sasha, pulled her up from the chair and wrapped his strong arms around her. When he pressed his lips against hers, she didn’t pull away. Her open mouth welcomed his tongue. He stopped in midkiss, leaving her longing for more.
“See you at the altar,” he said and then exited her condo.
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