Название: Sizzling Desire
Автор: Kayla Perrin
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781474070096
isbn:
“What’s with the veil?” the guy asked. Then, “Oh, wait. It’s black, not white. So the opposite of a wedding... Right?”
“Wedding?” Lorraine scoffed with a smile. “What wedding? I’m no longer married.” Single and ready to mingle!
“I get it.” The man smiled down at her, and he had the cutest dimples.
“I’m Hunter,” he said, extending his hand.
Lorraine accepted it. His warm grip enveloped hers and sent a zap of heat coursing through her veins. “I’m... I’m Mary.”
Why was she lying?
“Nice to meet you, Mary,” he said. “What are you drinking?”
“Margaritas,” she answered without hesitation. Then she felt a little silly. Did she really want him to buy her a drink or two? Any more to drink and she might not be able to think too clearly.
Single and ready to mingle! The parting words of the young woman leaving the restroom jumped into her mind again. Lorraine couldn’t help it—she started giggling.
Hunter narrowed his eyes as he looked at her, though the edges of his lips were curved in a grin. “What’s so funny?”
What indeed? What was it about this man that had her acting like a school girl?
“I don’t even know,” Lorraine said. “I really have no clue why I’m laughing.”
Hunter’s grin widened. He seemed to like what she’d said. “High on life, I guess?” he suggested.
“Something like that.”
“You ready to go back out there?” he asked, offering her his elbow.
Lorraine looped her hand through his arm, feeling a flash of heat as her skin once again connected with his. His arm was strong. He had rock-hard muscles. This guy was seriously hot.
“Sure,” she said.
“Then let’s go get that drink.”
Lorraine saw her friends’ stunned looks as she came out from the restroom area holding on to the arm of a tall, dark and sexy brother. Smiling with smug satisfaction, Lorraine gave them all a little wave as she walked with Hunter past their table to the bar.
“You know why I’m here tonight,” Lorraine said to Hunter as they neared the bar. “What brings you here?”
“I’m new in town,” Hunter explained.
“Ahhh. Are you new to California?” Lorraine asked. “Did you move here from another state?”
“I did, yes. But I’m not new to Ocean City. I grew up here, then moved to Reno when I hit eighteen. I lived and worked there for sixteen years, and now I’m back. I’m a firefighter.”
That explained why he was in such good shape. Firefighters were strong, their bodies immaculately honed in order to be able to rescue people from burning buildings and other disastrous situations. No wonder he had come to her aid in such a chivalrous way.
She swayed a little—deliberately—so she could wrap her fingers tighter around his arm. Yes, she was shamelessly copping a feel. She barely even recognized herself.
“Oops,” Hunter said, securing his hand on her back to make sure she was steady. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” Lorraine said. “You’re so sweet.” And so hot.
So hot that she wanted to smooth her hands over his muscular pecs for a few glorious minutes.
She turned away from him and continued toward the bar. What was going on with her? It must be the alcohol making her react so strongly to this man.
Though the truth was, she didn’t care what was bringing out this reaction in her. Because every time Hunter looked at her, she felt incredibly desirable—something she hadn’t felt with Paul since the early days of their marriage. But unlike her ex-husband, Hunter’s attraction for her was obvious in that dark, intense gaze. Every time their eyes connected, the chemistry sizzled.
Lorraine’s heart was pounding with excitement, and it was a wonderful feeling after all the pain and heartache she’d gone through recently. It was nice to feel the pitter-patter of her pulse because of a guy who rated eleven out of ten on the sexy scale.
Lorraine veered to the left to sidestep a group of women. And all of a sudden, her heel twisted beneath her body. This time, she started to go down in earnest. Hunter quickly swooped his arms around her, and the next thing she knew, he was scooping her into his arms.
“Oh, my God,” she uttered. “You’re not carrying me—”
“Can’t have you breaking an ankle.”
He was actually carrying her to the bar. All eyes in the vicinity looked at them, some people chuckling, some gaping. Lorraine should have been embarrassed, but instead she tightened her arms around Hunter’s neck and held on, smiling from ear to ear. When was the last time anyone had carried her like this? She may as well enjoy the ride.
Once at the bar, Hunter lowered Lorraine onto a stool. “There you go,” he said.
She looked up at him coyly, biting down on the bottom of her ruby-red lip.
He grinned at her, his gaze lingering on hers. Then he leaned across the bar to order drinks. Lorraine shamelessly checked out his form. With his hands resting on the bar, the muscles on the backs of his arms grew taut. His wide back tapered to a slim waist. His behind even looked muscular in the black dress pants. He had the kind of body that running backs in those tight football outfits had. The kind of physique she had been appreciating daily for the past several months in the current Ocean City firefighters calendar. Though in her opinion, he was hotter—and there were a lot of fine men in that calendar.
A couple of minutes later, he turned toward her holding a margarita. Lorraine carefully took the glass from him. For himself, Hunter had a bottle of beer. He clinked the top of his bottle gently against her glass, then they both took a sip.
“I probably should get back to my friends,” Lorraine said after a minute.
“Or—we could get out of here.”
“Pardon me?” Lorraine asked.
“Nothing,” Hunter said.
She narrowed her eyes. Was she hearing things? Or had he just suggested that they leave the bar together?
“I’ll walk you back to your table,” Hunter told her, and extended his arm to her again.
She took a liberal sip of her drink before accepting Hunter’s arm. He helped her down from the stool. She continued to hold on to him as she walked. He led her to her table, where her friends were all looking at her with wide-eyed gazes.
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