Wicked Heat. Kelli Ireland

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СКАЧАТЬ eyes and bit her lip. He watched as she licked her lower lip with slow, smooth sensuality. “Well, this is about as bad as it can get.” She looked up through thick lashes. “Right? Tell me this is as bad as it can get.”

      Liam blinked a couple of times and rolled his shoulders in an attempt to dislodge the guilt draped around his neck like a heavy stole. “It can always get worse.”

      She shook her head. “Just once, I wish someone would lie to me when I ask them to instead of lying to me when I don’t expect it.”

      The guilt wound around his neck like a garrote, strangling his response. “Bungalows are this way.” He gestured to the nearest door and, taking her messenger bag for her before cupping her elbow, gently steered her toward the exit. The nagging voice in his head, the part that made him good at reading people in the boardroom, wouldn’t hush. He had to know what she’d meant. “People lie to you often?”

      “I’m a wedding planner.” She shot him a short look and snorted with incredible derision. “I see people lie to me, their parents, their significant others all the time. People tend to lie the most when it matters the most.”

      “Are you always so cynical?”

      “Practical.” Gently pulling her elbow from his grip, she held out her hand and waggled her fingers. When he didn’t respond, she plucked her bag from his shoulder. “And I can manage.”

      “No doubt.” Still, he opened the door for her. He’d do what he had to do to spare his sister, but he’d still treat Ella Montgomery like the lady she was. Until he couldn’t, for Jenna’s sake. If Ella had siblings, she’d understand. Surely. “How, exactly, do people manage to lie the most when it matters the most?”

      “Honestly? Lies always matter.” She navigated the narrow bridge that led away from the sand and out to the bungalows.

      “To the right, here,” Liam said, pointing toward a bungalow set away from the others. “I suppose they wanted to provide us some privacy, being newlyweds and all.”

      She laughed softly. “Sound carries more efficiently over water than it does land.”

      An image of her, hair out of its neat twist and spread around her, linen sheets rumpled and draped across her naked body, one breast bared, a long leg exposed to the hip... Sweet Mary, save him from his suddenly overactive imagination. Heat burned through him like fuel exposed to a lightning strike. He had to focus, to remember what they’d been talking about and remind himself she’d failed to answer his question. “For clarity’s sake...” Irritated at the tightness in his throat, he reached up and, with rough execution, undid his tie and the top button of his dress shirt. Then he tried again. “For clarity’s sake, does a white lie qualify? Particularly if it’s meant to spare one’s feelings?”

      She paused at the door and waited while he retrieved one of the two keys in the little envelope and swiped it across the electronic door lock. He handed her the spare key and then pushed the door open to a spacious, elegant bungalow complete with a small infinity-edge pool, glass-paneled floor in the living room, small kitchen and, through the open French doors, a mosquito-netted king bed with an abundance of pillows.

      “Go on then,” he said as he moved into the bedroom and dropped his briefcase on the desk. An enormous fresh flower arrangement was situated on one nightstand and scented the ocean breeze with the smell of freesia, roses and something utterly wild. He paused to trace a finger along a single rose petal before calling out, “I’m all ears.”

      “Just forget it.” Her voice was muffled, as if she were in the bathroom.

      “Can’t. Sorry. Nature of the beast.”

      “Look, bottom line is that I’ve come to believe there’s not a time when being lied to doesn’t matter. If it’s important enough to lie about, it’s important.” She leaned around the corner, inhaling as if to say something else, but her eyes widened and she gasped. “This is the honeymoon suite?” She walked through the room and headed straight out the second set of French doors that led to the expansive deck and the view of the crystalline waters and colorful reefs teeming with sea life. “This is incredible!”

      “Almost makes it worth being married.”

      She shot him a sharp look. “Consider our marriage annulled.”

      “Such short wedded bliss,” he said on a sigh. “I didn’t even get to kiss the bride.”

      She laughed, the sound soft but reserved. “You wish.”

      “I do.”

      This time, she truly laughed. Liam found himself caught between wanting to watch versus taking her mouth with his and swallowing the sexy, sultry sound. He hadn’t realized he’d been waiting to hear her laughter, but he had. She had the kind of laugh that would turn men’s heads, would compel them to seek out the siren responsible. And though he wasn’t one to wager, Liam was absolutely willing to bet Ella was a fun lover, one who laughed when she loved—right up to the point that teasing and laughter were consumed by passion that would be as avaricious as it was unreserved.

      Her laughter trailed off, but Liam continued to stare. He couldn’t look away. Never had a woman enchanted him like this, and she’d done it unintentionally and without an ounce of pretension. And suddenly, he had to know—had to fill in a blank his imagination had created.

      “What would our kiss have been like?”

      Her gaze darted to his, her lips parted and the tip of her tongue swept out and touched the edge of her cupid’s bow. Different emotions ranging from surprise to curiosity flashed across her face, but Liam was most interested in the emotional revelation that struck.

      Desire.

      He stepped closer and paused, giving her every chance to tell him to bugger off. Instead, she shifted so their hips lined up, her body acknowledging what she verbally denied. “There wouldn’t have been a kiss.”

      “You won’t kiss your groom? Rather odd, don’t you think?”

      “You’re not my groom.” Her voice was raspy, husky and told him everything he needed to know.

      “And you’re not my bride, yet I still can’t stop myself from wondering.”

      “Stop putting ideas in my head.”

      “Where would you rather I put them?” he teased.

      “Oh, God,” she whispered, moving fractionally toward him. “You’re temptation incarnate.”

      He leaned forward, bracing a hand on the railing on either side of her. “And what’s your position on temptation?”

      “Never turn it down.”

      “Why?”

      She moved into him, closing that final distance so their bodies touched. One slender hand rested on his chest; the other wound through his hair, gripping just tight enough to exert control. Eyes locked with his, she pulled him toward her at the same time she rose on her toes. “You never know when it might come around again.”

      Liam groaned as their mouths came together in a rush of heat and hurry and hunger. There was nothing tentative about the kiss. It would burn hot and then hotter until it became СКАЧАТЬ