Maternity Bride. Maureen Child
if he could read her mind, a deep-throated chuckle rumbled up from his chest.
She felt the flush of embarrassment stain her cheeks and for the first time since entering Patrick’s office, was grateful the power was out.
“I don’t see a thing funny in any of this,” Denise said through her teeth. Especially, she added silently, her body’s reaction to him.
“No,” he agreed. “I don’t suppose you do.” As he finished speaking, his hand moved up her rib cage, slipped beneath her sensible linen blazer and strayed dangerously close to her breast.
“Okay, that’s it,” she muttered, wrenching violently to one side. She wasn’t about to lie on the floor being mauled by a virtual stranger...no matter how much her body seemed to enjoy it.
“You son of a—” Denise gave a furious heave and wrenched one hand free of his grasp. Curling her fingers, she drew her arm back and then let it fly. A fist too small to do any damage clipped him across the chin.
Immediately, he released her and Denise rolled far away from him. Scrambling to her feet, she tugged at her wrinkled, pin-striped business suit until she felt back in control. Then she lifted her gaze to his and glared at him.
The bastard had the nerve to laugh at her?
Rubbing his chin with one hand, he nodded at her slowly. “Not a bad right, for a girl.”
“I’m not a girl. I’m a woman.”
“Oh yeah, honey.” His gaze swept over her. “I noticed.”
The overhead lights flared back into life and Denise blinked, momentarily blinded by the unexpected brightness. When her vision had cleared again, she looked at the man standing so casually just a foot or two away from her.
A relaxed, half smile curved his well-shaped mouth as he watched her. His nose looked as though it had been broken more than once—no doubt by some furious female, she told herself. The whisker stubble on his face gave him a wicked, untamed look, which she was somehow sure he cultivated purposely. His too long black hair hung down on either side of his face and lay across the collar of his jacket. As she looked at him, he reached up with both hands and slowly pushed the mass back out of his way.
Tall and muscular, he wore a spotless white T-shirt beneath the leather jacket that seemed to suit him so well. His worn, faded jeans rode low on his narrow hips and hugged his long legs with an almost indecent grip. Scuffed, square-toed black boots completed the picture of modern day pirate.
She lifted her gaze back to his face and saw sharp green eyes assessing her. It was as if he knew what she was thinking. Amusement flickered in those eyes and she wanted to smack him. Again.
No one should be that sure of himself.
In an instant, his gaze swept over her, mimicking the inspection she’d just given him. Instinctively, she pulled the edges of her navy blazer together and balanced herself carefully on her one good heel.
When his gaze lingered a bit longer than necessary on the fullness of her breasts, Denise shifted uncomfortably. She could almost feel his touch on her body. Her traitorous mind wandered down a dangerous path and imagined what it would feel like to have his fingers caressing her bare flesh. At that thought, another onslaught of heat raced through her, leaving her unexpectedly shaky.
“Well,” Mike said as he eased down to perch on the edge of his brother’s desk. “I’ve got to say, I’ve never been hit by anyone as pretty as you.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
He chuckled again and folded his arms across that magnificent chest.
Good Lord, she groaned silently. Magnificent?
“Most woman don’t find me as...distasteful, as you do, Denise.”
The sound of her name, spoken in that voice, made her knees weak. Instantly, she wished heartily that she was already in the elevator on the way to the parking lot.
“What do you say we try it again?” he asked.
“What?”
“Oh,” he nodded congenially at her. “I’ll let you hit me again too, if it makes you feel better about enjoying my touch.”
“I can’t believe you!” Another flush rose up in her cheeks, but this time, she was sure it was just as much anger as embarrassment.
“You can believe me, honey. I never lie to my women.”
“I am not one of your women.”
His gaze raked over her slowly, deliberately, before coming back to stare deeply into her eyes.
“Yet,” he said simply.
“You’re incredible!” She gasped and fought to ignore the surge of heat flooding her. Something flashed in his eyes and was so quickly gone, she couldn’t identify it. But it had almost looked like a teasing glint.
“So I’ve been told.” He pushed away from the desk and took a step toward her “What do you say, honey?” He rubbed his chin with two fingers and said softly, “That little punch of yours was worth it, you know. To touch you again, I just might be willing to put up with anything.”
Her stomach dropped to her feet and her heartbeat hurtled into high gear. She limped backward a step, never taking her eyes from him. She wasn’t frightened. At least not of him.
Whether he was teasing her or not, she knew she wasn’t in any physical danger from him. He hadn’t had to let her go. She knew as well as he did that her fist hadn’t done the slightest bit of damage to him.
The only thing worrying her now was her reaction to him. Mike and Patrick Ryan were more different than she had at first thought. Oh, they looked alike, there was no denying that.
But she had never experienced this sizzling rush of desire for Patrick. Not once had she imagined rolling around on the floor of his office with him...burying her fingers in his hair...feeling the scrape of his whiskers against her skin.
As those images rocketed around in what was left of her brain, she took another uneven step back in self-defense. What in the world was happening to her? Only moments ago, she had been fighting him, sure that he was some maniac out to destroy her. Now, she trembled at the thought of being kissed senseless by that same maniac?
Oh, she was in big trouble.
Mike smiled. A slow, seductive smile that told her he knew where her thoughts were going.
And that he approved.
Short, shallow breaths shot in and out of her lungs.
She grabbed at the remaining bulk of her shoulder bag and clutched it in front of her as though it were a magic shield, designed to keep lechers at bay. Her fingers worked the leather, locating her wallet and car keys. One corner of her mind realized just how much of her stuff she’d thrown onto the floor. Her purse only weighed about half as much as usual.
The hell with it, she thought, keeping one eye on the man opposite her. She could get the rest of her things later.
“I’m leaving now,” she said and took another hobbling step. “I assume, since you’re Patrick’s brother, you’re not here to rob the place?”
“Good assumption,” he countered and moved a bit closer.
“Then why are you here, anyway?”
“How about we go get a drink and get acquainted?” Mike asked and took another step toward her. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know about me.”
All she wanted to know was why he had such a strange affect on her. But she wasn’t about to ask him that.
He smiled at her again.
Run, her brain screamed. Run now, before it’s too late.
It was the rational thing to do.
It