Hot for Him. Sarah Mayberry

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      Moving toward the stairs offstage, her gaze tracked across the tables full of smiling, applauding people until they stopped on one man. His eyes held hers for a long beat before he nodded his head in acknowledgment and slowly clapped his hands in a private round of applause meant just for her.

      Victory, it turned out, was sweet indeed.

      The next few minutes dissolved into a blur of handshakes and kisses and jumping up and down from the Ocean Boulevard contingent as they passed around their trophy, took photos of each other and generally gloated and celebrated. Sadie and Grace stood on either side of Claudia, arms wrapped around her waist, big smiles on their faces. For a moment Claudia was choked with emotion. These women were so important to her, and together they’d made something great, and it had been recognized in front of the industry.

      Despite her determination to keep things positive, her thoughts turned to her parents. If things were right between them, she would be out in the foyer right now, calling them to tell them she’d won. Her father would bellow loudly and break into excited Greek and want to hang up and phone the whole extended family to brag. Her mother would ask what she was wearing and insist that Claudia get plenty of photographs for later.

      But things were not right with her parents. And they never would be.

      Feeling an unaccustomed lump of emotion in her throat, Claudia excused herself from the celebrations and made her way to the ladies’ room.

      It was cool and quiet in there amongst the marble and gold-plated taps, and she took a few deep breaths to calm herself. Her color was high, she saw in the mirror, and she ran some cool water over her wrists before drying them and exiting to the foyer.

      She’d almost made her way back to the ballroom when a warm hand wound itself around her elbow and tugged her into a darkened corner. She found herself facing Leandro—staring up at him, more accurately. Up close, he was devastatingly attractive in his formal wear and her heart instantly kicked up a gear.

      “Claudia. I just wanted to tell you that dress is…spectacular,” he said, his dark gaze dipping into her cleavage.

      “Thank you. You scrub up okay yourself,” she said.

      He shrugged dismissively, then reached out a hand. She watched, for all intents and purposes paralyzed, as his fingers found the neckline of her dress just above the swell of her right breast. Catching the velvet between thumb and forefinger, he gave a murmur of appreciation as he ran his thumb back and forth over the pile of the velvet.

      “Velvet is so tactile, don’t you think?” he said. “Makes you want to reach out and touch.”

      She could feel the backs of his fingers against her skin, and she knew she should knock his hand away. But for some reason, she didn’t.

      “Aren’t you going to congratulate me?” she asked, trying to find some solid ground, some reason to not take him up on the invitation in his eyes.

      “Definitely,” he said, and then he lowered his head and she knew he was going to kiss her.

      She could have taken a step back, said no, pushed him away. She did none of those things. She stood on her tiptoes, swayed forward, met him halfway, her mouth already open. He gave a growl of approval as their lips met, heat on heat, silk on silk, and then she was leaning against the never-ending wall of his chest, and his arms were around her and his tongue was in her mouth.

      She felt surrounded by him. Invaded by him. And she’d never been more turned-on in her life. His tongue brushed over hers, his hands splayed across her bottom and lifted her into the firmness of his erection, his teeth nibbled at her lower lip, his five o’clock shadow brushed her cheeks and neck.

      Her breasts hardened into two demanding, greedy peaks, and even the thickness of the velvet was not proof against her need as her nipples jutted into his chest. Between her thighs, desire throbbed, thick and heavy as treacle. On fire for him, she thought feverishly of the suite upstairs, of the big bed, of getting this giant of a man naked and inside her where he belonged, where he could take away the ache he’d created inside her…

      And then he broke the kiss, and stepped away from her.

      It was like walking out of a sauna and straight into a plunge pool. She’d been so absorbed in him, in what they’d created between them.

      “Congratulations, Claudia,” he said, his voice husky with desire.

      Then he walked away.

      2

      CLAUDIA WAS STILL FUMING the next day when she arrived at work. She hadn’t seen Leandro Mandalor’s face when he’d walked away from her, but she’d bet her house, her car and her job that he’d been smiling. The smug bastard.

      Her responding to his kiss didn’t mean a thing. He was obviously a practiced seducer, a charmer from way back. She’d allowed him to work his wiles on her, and it had been amusing. Entertaining, for a brief, unimportant moment in time. Then she’d gone back into the ballroom and reveled in her win and hadn’t looked at him once more all night.

      So there was no need for him to feel as though he’d achieved something, just because she hadn’t slapped his face or gagged with disgust. It had been a kiss, nothing more. No big deal.

      Slamming her car door shut, Claudia grimaced at her reflection in the tinted glass of her side window. Her eyes were deeply shadowed from lack of sleep—and not because she’d been partying endlessly all night with the gang from work. As usual, she hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol and she’d rolled into bed and closed her eyes at the very respectable time of midnight.

      And promptly not slept a wink for the entire night.

      And not because of excitement, either. At least, not excitement over their win.

      No. Unfortunately, it had been the other kind of excitement that had kept her up. The Leandro-Mandalor-induced kind.

      One kiss, and she’d been ready to drag him up to her suite and ride him like a pony at the fair. She closed her eyes as she imagined how monumental her regret would be this morning if she’d actually followed through on that instinct instead of limiting her transgression to a single kiss.

      Although, technically, it hadn’t been her who had limited it. Leandro had been the one who had walked away.

      Which brought her back to her favorite two words for the day: smug bastard. Why hadn’t she been the one to push him away, to smile up into his face and deliver a sassy line? Why, why, why?

      Thank God she wasn’t still at the convention. A small saving grace. With a bit of luck, she wouldn’t have to look him in the eye again for a full twelve months.

      Collecting the award from her back seat, she clicked her car shut and made her way into the building. The news of their win had spread through the office and she was mobbed the moment she walked in the door.

      It took her a full half hour to make it to her desk, but by then her mood had improved dramatically. It was great to see how proud her staff was of the award. As she’d said last night, television was a collaborative medium. No one person could take credit for the success of the show, and it was great to be able to pass the joy around. There was an official display cabinet for awards in the conference room, but she decided that this latest gong might find a home on the СКАЧАТЬ