The Double Deal. Catherine Mann
lips, right where he’d grazed her with his thumb a second before. The taste of jam lingered.
As did the spark of attraction as he settled back into his seat.
She hadn’t objected. She wasn’t running. Granted, she appeared a hint shell-shocked with wise eyes. But her pupils widened with attraction. She was stunning, potent.
And he was drawn to her like a magnet.
He studied her through narrowed eyes. “You’re—distracting.”
“I’m sorry about that.” She sat back in the chair, and he couldn’t help but notice the way her spine arched and her breasts pressed against her shirt.
Distracting was an understatement. His normally targeted linguistic skills seemed to fail him. She was...intoxicating. That might be more accurate.
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” He held her gaze, watching the way her lips moved, parting ever so slightly. The touch a moment ago, the taste of her, had left him wanting more. Much more.
“Oh, thank you.” She exhaled hard. “Well, I guess there really isn’t any use in denying the sparks, is there?”
Her bright eyes searched his, an eagerness dancing there. One he wanted to act on. Damn the logic.
“Attraction is what it is. Even my scientific mind knows it’s not logical—but it is tangible.” He leaned forward on the table, his knee brushing hers. She stared at the point of contact, the place where electricity seemed to build, coursing through him.
“I’m not a judgy kind of person.” She lifted her head, fixating now on his mouth. But her knee didn’t move from his. The warmth of her body teased him as she continued, her voice lower as if confessing a secret, “but I’ve also never indulged in a one-night stand.”
“From the looks of the storm and the piles of snow out there, we’ll be here for far more than one night. If you’re so inclined to...indulge.” He eased from his chair and leaned a hip against the table, taking her hand, surprised for a moment by the softness of her skin, the strength in the way she squeezed him back.
“Logical point.” Her breath hitched audibly, her pulse speeding in her neck just below her diamond stud earring.
Were they really discussing this without ever even having kissed other than sharing a smudge of jam?
Although holding her hand, watching her reaction to that simple touch, turned him inside out with need.
“And I am a responsible man. I always have protection.”
Her husky laugh washed over him. “You carry condoms to an igloo in remote Alaska?”
“Did you hear me? I am a practical man. And a careful man.” He paused, looking down at his feet before continuing, the words heavy on his tongue. “My former fiancée got pregnant. We lost the baby, then broke up. If I’d been careful, I could have saved us both a lot of pain...”
Her hand rested on the back of his neck. “I’m so sorry for the hurt that caused you.”
“Thank you.” Pushing back against the memories, he glanced up at her again. “It was a long time ago. And damn, I don’t know why I brought it up at all. What a total mood buster. I just wanted to say that I have condoms.”
“Safe is always good.” Her fingers moved lightly along the back of his neck, both soothing and arousing.
His direct nature had sent him off course with people before, and he wondered if that was the case now. “So, have I totally wrecked the mood?”
“Wrecked the mood?” She angled back, toying with the tip of her ponytail in a way that totally set his senses on fire. Did she know what she was doing to him? “Dampened it perhaps. But I think the moment could be easily salvaged.”
Yes. Victory surged through him. “How so?”
She gave him an unmistakably sultry look. All thick lashes and parted lips. She raised an eyebrow, voice taking on a sweeter intonation. “You’re a smart man. Guess.”
Angling toward her, he slid his hand up her leg, watching her move into him with anticipation. He drew his head closer, lips a breath apart from hers.
The logical stuff? He would deal with that later. Because right now, nothing seemed more important than fully, thoroughly kissing Naomi.
The moment Royce’s lips fully brushed hers, Naomi leaned into the kiss, unable to stop herself from soaking up the muscular feel and earthy scent of this man she barely knew. Throwing herself at a virtual stranger. Which was atypical for her.
Sure, she’d cultivated a wild child reputation for the past few years. Totally unearned other than dressing flamboyantly and being outspoken. But she’d felt compelled somehow to prove to her family she was vibrantly alive. Independent. She’d even stopped waiting around for Mr. Right and embraced the possibility of motherhood.
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