Название: Hot & Bothered
Автор: Kate Hoffmann
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
Серия: Mills & Boon Temptation
isbn: 9781474027380
isbn:
Libby’s eyes drifted down to his lips and she wondered if he had any intention of kissing her. If he did, she wasn’t sure that she’d be able to do anything about it—except perhaps kiss him back. But when her eyes met his again, Libby’s heart froze. It was there, in the icy blue depths. He knew exactly what she was thinking.
Trey’s lips curled into a grin and he chuckled softly. “What? Can’t think of anything to say?”
“What I have to say to you isn’t fit for civilized ears.”
He leaned closer to her, taking his own sweet time as he did. Libby waited, frantically wracking her brain for some acidic comeback or well-aimed put-down, certain he was about to kiss her and knowing she didn’t want to stop him. But before his lips touched hers, he paused, hovering so close she could feel his breath on her face.
Her heart hammered in her chest and Libby felt herself losing touch with reality. All she could think about was this moment and how everything hinged on her reaction. She didn’t move, barely breathed, her body trembling with anticipation.
And then, he did it. She knew it was coming, but she still wasn’t prepared for the flood of desire that raced through her bloodstream. In single fleeting moment, his lips were on hers. A tiny moan slipped from her throat as she collapsed against him, and he took it as an invitation. His tongue slowly traced along her bottom lip and then invaded, taking possession of both her mouth and her ability to reason.
Every nerve in her body seemed to come alive, every thought focused on the feel of his lips on hers. She’d kissed a small number of boys in her life, but this wasn’t just a kiss. It was a challenge, a dare, the first salvo in a battle that had just begun—and Libby couldn’t show any weakness. They weren’t kids anymore and along the way, they’d acquired some very adult weapons.
She returned the kiss in full measure, her tongue meeting his, touching and tangling until the taste of him filled her. Her hands flitted to his face and then furrowed through his hair, tempting him to surrender and declare her the victor.
When he finally drew away, Libby looked up at him, proud of her effort. She expected to see the self-satisfied grin she’d come to know, but instead he appeared to be as consumed by the kiss as she was. He gazed down at her through half-hooded eyes, and his breathing was shallow and quick.
“I think we’ve gotten off to a fine start,” he murmured, allowing his nose to bump against hers. “In fact, I think I’m going to enjoy the neighborhood just fine.”
With that, he let go of her arm. Libby stumbled back, light-headed and weak-kneed, nearly falling into the rose bushes again. But she caught herself just in time, straightening her posture and smoothing her trembling hands over the front of her dress. “Don’t be so sure. Just because you managed to kiss me doesn’t mean I’ve changed my mind about you.”
“Managed to kiss you? Considering your response, I more than managed. Besides, if you think there was anything romantic about that kiss, you’re wrong.”
“Really?” Libby said. “Why did you kiss me then?”
“It was the only way to keep you from hurling another insult at me,” Trey replied.
“Well, there’s a much easier way to accomplish that. You could just run on down to the train tracks and take yourself a nice long nap.” She glanced at her watch. “The train comes through at about three, so why don’t you plan on sleeping ‘til four?”
“I don’t think I’ll be doing that,” Trey said.
“Then just stay out of my life. Keep your dog out of my garden and your face out of my line of vision and we’ll get on just fine. And if you’re going to do yard work, at least wear a shirt.”
“My, I have missed that Southern hospitality.” He slowly backed away. “Just warms a man’s heart.”
Libby ground her teeth. There was no winning with him, no getting the last word! Deciding it was best to cut her losses, she turned on her heel and started for the house.
“I’m looking forward to that cake, Parrish.”
Libby clenched her fingers into fists. “No more than I’m looking forward to the day when you lose your testicles in a tragic lawn mower accident, Marbury,” she shouted over her shoulder.
As she continued her retreat to the house, Libby smiled to herself. Maybe she had gotten the last word. It wasn’t the most poetic turn of phrase, but the imagery had certainly hit the mark. Yet, there was no satisfaction in the victory. Though she might have won the battle, Libby wasn’t looking forward to waging the war.
It was entirely too difficult to remember that Trey Marbury was the enemy—and that falling for him again would mean surrendering the last shreds of dignity she had left.
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