Название: The End of Faking It
Автор: Natalie Anderson
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781408915073
isbn:
Then she realised. ‘You thought it was me?’ She basically shrieked, her temperature steaming back up to boiling point. She might be many things, but a thief wasn’t one of them. ‘I’m the best damn temp in this town. I’m hardworking and honest. How dare you storm in here and throw round your gutter accusations?’
‘I know.’ His expression went very intense. ‘I’m sorry. Mason already told me it couldn’t be you.’
He sucked the wind right out of her sails and disarmed her completely with a sudden flash of that smile. It cracked his icy cover and let the heat ripple once more. But she refused to let her anger slide into attraction. ‘You still thought it,’ she accused.
‘Well, you have to admit it looked … it looked …’ His attention wandered—down. ‘It looked …’
Her body—despite the freezing wet shirt—was burning. Okay, that attraction was impossible to stop—simplest thing now would be to escape. ‘Well, now that you’ve done your looking,’ she said sarcastically, her eyes locked on his, ‘are you going to step back and let me past?’
‘Not yet,’ he said wryly. ‘I’m still looking.’
Penny’s nerves tightened to one notch the other side of screaming. His lashes lowered and his smile faded. She looked down too. Now her silk shirt was wet it was both skin colour and skin tight and she might as well not be wearing anything. Even worse, she was aching … and horrified to realise it was completely obvious.
‘You’re cold,’ he said softly.
Yeah, completely obvious.
‘The water in the jug was from the cooler.’
‘So that’s the reason …’
All she could do was brazen this out. She tossed her head and met his eyes direct. ‘What other reason could there be?’
His lips curved. In his tanned face, his teeth were white and straight and perfect. Actually everything in his face was perfect. And in the dark tee shirt and dark trousers he looked pretty-boy pirate, especially with the slightly too-long hair. The intensity of his scrutiny was devastating and now he’d fixed on one thing—her mouth.
She saw his intention. She felt it in her lips already—the yearning for touch. But even for her that would be insane. She didn’t like the way her pulse was zigzagging all over the place. She didn’t like the way her body was so willingly bracing for impact.
‘Don’t add another insult to the list,’ she said, trying to regain control over both of them. But the words didn’t come out as forcefully as she’d intended. Instead they whispered on barely a breath—because she could barely move enough to breathe.
‘How can appreciating beauty be an insult?’
Penny’s pulse thundered. She was used to confident men. They were the kind she liked—pretty much bullet proof. But this was more than just superficial brashness; this was innate, absolute arrogance. He stood even closer, filling all her senses. Her blood rushed to all her secret places and left her brain starving of its ability to operate.
His smile suddenly flashed brighter—like how the flame flared on a gas hob when you accidentally twisted the knob the wrong way. His hand lifted and he brushed her lips with a finger. She shivered.
Shock. She was in shock. That was the problem. That was why she wasn’t resisting….
His expression heated up all the more. ‘You okay?’
‘Mmm.’
His traversing finger muffled the words she couldn’t speak anyway. She was too busy pressing her lips firmly together to stop herself from opening up and inviting him in. But somehow he got that invite anyway because he lifted his finger and swiftly replaced it with his mouth.
Oh.
It was light. A warm, gentle, coaxing kiss that promised so much more than it gave. But what it did give was good. He moved closer, not threatening, but with a hint of masculine spice and just enough pressure to make her accept him. To make her want more. Surprised that it wasn’t a full-throttle brazen burst of passion, she relaxed. Her eyes automatically closed as her body focused on the exquisite sweetness trickling into her. It had been a long time since she’d felt anything so nice—a subtle magic that melted her resistance, and saw her start to strain for what she knew he was holding at bay.
Her lips parted—she couldn’t deny herself. His response came immediate, and powerful. She heard his sound of satisfaction and his hands moved from the steel behind to her soft body. She trembled top to toe as he swiftly shaped her curves, pulling her against him. She had to grab hold of his shoulders or she was going to tumble backwards. The kiss deepened again as she felt the wide, flat planes and hard strength of him. Her neck arched back as he stroked into her mouth. She lifted her hand, sliding her fingers into his thick hair. He showed no mercy then, bending her back all the more as he sought full access, kissing her jaw and neck and back up again to claim her mouth—this time with confident, carnal authority.
She shuddered at the impact, felt him press closer still. Sandwiched between him and the cabinet, she was trapped between forces as unyielding and demanding as each other. Yet she had no desire to escape, not now.
The arrogance of him was breathtaking. But not anywhere as breathtaking as the way he kissed. It was as if he was determined to maximise pleasure for them both and the control she usually held so tight started to slide as her own desire mounted.
He was silk-wrapped steel and she wanted to feel all of him against her, slicing into her. She wanted him. Wanted as she hadn’t wanted anyone in a long, long time. Okay, ever. Hungry for his strength and passion, she kissed him back—melting against his body, delving into his mouth with her tongue, so keen to explore more.
And he knew. He lifted his hand from her waist to her breast and, oh, so lightly stroked his fingers across her violently taut nipple.
She felt the touch as if her skin were bare. And it burned too hot.
She jerked back, ripping her mouth free from his. Their eyes met, faces inches apart. A flare of something dangerous kindled in his—different from the earlier fury but just as frightening for Penny. She pushed as far back against the cool metal cabinet as she could, breathing hard. She shook her head, the only method of communication she could manage. While he stood, rock hard, and stared right back at her.
A million half-thoughts murmured in her head—desperate thoughts, forgotten thoughts, frightening thoughts.
Carter Dodds wasn’t the kind of man to let a woman stay on top—Penny’s only acceptable position, metaphorically anyway. He’d just demonstrated he’d always ultimately be the one in charge—his almost pretty-boy packaging disguised a total he-man with all masculine, all dominant virility. He’d made his move that way—lulling her into a sense of sweet security before unleashing his true potency and damn near swamping her reason. She liked sex—enjoyed the chase, the fun of touch, the fleeting closeness. But she never, ever lost control. She had to be in charge—needed to be the one who was wanted—even if only for that little while. She was very careful with whom СКАЧАТЬ