Millionaire Under The Mistletoe. Janice Maynard

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      ‘That was my plan, yes.’ She could see the flaw in this plan even before he came over all pathetic and helpless.

      ‘No wallet, no money or plastic. See for yourself.’ He opened his jacket, inviting her to disprove his claim.

      No way—she’d been there, done that and felt her hormones riot! She was not conscious of placing her tightly clenched hands firmly behind her back.

      ‘There’s no need to act like an endangered species; I believe you,’ she told him gruffly. Her sigh of defeat had a long-suffering sound to it. ‘Do I look like a soft touch?’ she wondered, wearily running a harassed hand through her dampish curls.

      Dark head on one side, he regarded her in a considering fashion. To add insult to injury, it took him bare moments to come to a decision.

      ‘Actually, yes, you do.’ She also looked extremely young, still full of youthful ideals, a soft target for unscrupulous operators—a student home for the holiday possibly…?

      His own innocence and youth seemed a long way off at that moment. It seemed an opportune time, given the direction of his wayward thoughts, to remind himself how far removed she was from the females who temporarily lent a bit of variety to his solitary existence— Reece wasn’t looking for anything other than temporary.

      His candour made Darcy’s face darken in annoyance.

      ‘And you’re the type to take advantage,’ she accused rattily.

      Taken advantage of by Reece Erskine—now, there was a thought! She was too busy being angry, flustered and ashamed of her thoughts to notice that a new expression had filtered into his eyes.

      Soft… His mind seemed determined to explore this avenue and there was no lack of appropriate material to feed his interest—soft lips, soft curves. The compulsive nature of his speculation had none of the objectivity Reece took for granted in sexual matters.

      Don’t go there, he urged himself, repressing the sudden strong inclination to lean closer to all that softness, smell the flowery scent that enveloped her small person.

      Darcy set off purposefully, reluctant to invite ridicule by admitting she’d forgotten where she’d left the car. She was too damned spooked at the prospect of being enclosed in a small space with him once more to think straight or accept defeat graciously. She heard his soft but firm footsteps shadowing her.

      ‘You said I’d never have to see you again,’ she reminded him crankily.

      ‘I’m a great believer in telling people what they want to hear if that gets the job done.’

      ‘Lying, you mean.’

      Reece winced. ‘I wouldn’t have put it that way.’

      ‘That I never doubted!’

      Despite the fact she wasn’t making any allowances for his delicate condition, his long long legs seemed to be having no problem keeping up with the cracking pace she was setting—pity!

      ‘I’m not exactly thrilled to find myself obliged to beg a lift either,’ he rasped huskily.

      Of all the ungrateful rats! Darcy came to an abrupt halt and turned her wrathful gaze upon the tall figure who had almost collided with her.

      ‘That makes two of us!’ she retorted sharply.

      Their eyes met.

      It was at that moment Darcy felt it—it was a tense excitement so thick the air quivered with it, so thick her limbs were all but immobilised by it.

      It didn’t seem to be a one-sided situation. His burning eyes kept moving back to her parted lips as though they were being dragged there against his will. She felt as if she was being drawn in by that raw expression in his hungry eyes. The tightness in her chest finally found release in a fractured sigh.

      The compulsion to reach up and press her lips to his was so strong her head spun. Would they be cold, warm…firm…? Wondering sent delicious little shivers skating along her spine.

      She wouldn’t do it, of course, because she wasn’t the sort of girl who gave in to lustful base instincts…all the same, thinking about it—and she discovered her embarrassingly lurid imagination had a mind of its own—made her body temperature soar despite the sub-zero temperature around them. Her dry-throated excitement mounted with dizzying rapidity as her knees began to literally shake.

      Seconds probably carried on ticking relentlessly away in the few moments after speculative green eyes had met startled blue—but Darcy was unaware of the passing time as they stood stock-still in a silence broken only by the distant wail of an ambulance.

      No good will come of this, a sensible voice, to which she paid no heed, forecast in her head.

      Reece felt his breath perceptibly quicken. Her mouth was just sensationally lush. The uneven sound of her breath catching in the back of her throat was driving him slightly crazy. He watched as her clenched fingers unfurled and she began to reach out…he thought about them touching his face…his hair…his…!

      With a mumbled expletive he took a step backwards. ‘Darcy…!’

      It was a verbal warning, the sort an adult gave a reckless child about to indulge in dangerous exploration.

      Mortified, Darcy let her extended hand fall away, and she stood there feeling stupid and confused by what had just occurred—whatever that was… He had wanted to kiss her too—hadn’t he…? It hadn’t been a figment of her over-heated imagination, had it?

      The uncertainty only lasted a split-second; she hadn’t imagined anything—it had been real. She thrust her softly rounded chin forward defiantly. As unlikely as it seemed, Reece Erskine had wanted to kiss her just as much as she’d wanted to kiss him! She raised her eyes stubbornly to his stony face and her heart sank—only he didn’t now!

      So he had gone off the idea; she was damned if she was going to let him make her feel ashamed!

      ‘Darcy what?’ She sniffed angrily. ‘Darcy, don’t kiss me…?’ she suggested shrilly.

      She watched his eyes widen as she gave an appalled gasp—I can’t believe I said that!

      ‘Were you going to?’

      I asked for that, didn’t I? What was she supposed to say…? Given a little bit of encouragement, probably…?

      Darcy served up a withering look. ‘What a tactless thing to ask,’ she observed, resorting to disgust to disguise the extent of her dismay.

      Spontaneous and asking for trouble would have been closer to the mark in his estimation. No wonder the brother wanted to keep her at home—if she was his sister he’d never let her out of his sight!

      For the first time Darcy noticed the lines of strain around his sensual mouth—as if not kissing her hadn’t been the easy option…then why…? A horrifying possibility occurred to her. ‘Are you married?’

      Unprepared for the tense, accusing query, Reece blinked, his jaw tightening. ‘That’s not relevant.’

      Her СКАЧАТЬ