Her Sweet Surrender. Nina Harrington
were already tightly latched onto the vanity case and as it swung off the shelf it made contact with the side of Sam’s head as he stepped forwards to grab hold of her around the middle and take the weight of her body against his.
She dropped the case, and it bounced high before settling down intact.
Not that she noticed. Her fingers were too busy clutching onto Sam Richards as she stared into his startled face.
Time seemed to stand still as she started to slide down the front of his hard body, her silky top riding up as she did.
Sam reacted by holding her tighter, hitching her up as though she was weightless, his arms linked together under her bottom, locking her body against his.
‘Sorry about that,’ she said, trying to sound casual, as though it was perfectly normal to have a conversation while you were being held up against the dusty T-shirt of the man who had once rocked your world. ‘Good thing I didn’t hit anything important.’
He bit his lower lip, as though he was ready to hit back with some comment and then thought better of it, then one corner of his mouth turned up and he slowly, slowly, started to bend his knees until her feet were on the floor. But all the time his arms were locked behind her back as though he had no intention of letting her go.
Why should he? Amber thought. Sam was having way too much fun.
Strange that his breathing seemed to be even faster than hers, if that was possible, and she could see the blood pulsing in his neck. Hot and fast.
His wide fingers slid up from her hips to her waist, holding her firm, secure, safe but being careful not to crush her plaster cast.
Amber inhaled the warm spicy aroma of some masculine scent that had a lot of Sam in the blend and instantly became aware that she could feel the length of his body pressed against hers from chest to groin.
His breathing became stronger. Louder. And his fingers stretched to span the strip of exposed skin below her top, gently at first and then moving back and forth just a little against her ribcage. Amber felt like closing her eyes but didn’t dare because his gaze had never left her face.
He felt wonderful. He smelt better.
Sam tilted his head and looked at her. Really looked at her. Looked at her with an intensity that sent shivers and tingles from her toes to the ends of each strand of hair.
It had been such a long time since any man had held her like this, with that fire in his eyes.
Bad fire.
Bad tingles.
Bad, bad heart for wanting him to finish what he had started.
It would be so easy to kiss him right now and find out if his kiss was still capable of making her weak at the knees.
Bad Amber for wanting him, when that was the worst thing that could happen to either of them.
Her back stiffened and she lifted her chin slightly.
‘You can put me down now if you like,’ she said in a jokey voice which sounded so false and flat. Her words seem to echo around the narrow dressing room until they found their target.
‘And what if I don’t like?’ Sam replied and leant closer to breathe into her neck while his fingers moved in slow circles at her waist.
Suddenly Amber wished that she had installed air conditioning in the apartment because the air was starting to heat up far too quickly in this small space. And so close to her bed...
Amber lifted her hand from Sam’s shoulder and reached behind and gently slid her fingers around his wrist and released him.
And, just like that, the connection was broken, leaving her feeling dizzier than she wanted to admit.
Without his support, her legs felt so wobbly that she had to swivel around and sit down on the chair—anything but the bed. That would be far too dangerous with this man around and she would hate to give him ideas.
His brow creased and Sam crossed his arms in front of his chest as he stared at her, his legs wide, his shoulders back and squared, his gaze locked onto her face. As he stared his eyes narrowed as though they were concerned about something. And her foolish girly heart gave a little leap at the idea that he might still care about her.
‘Hey, Bambi. I thought we had a deal. It’s time you kept to your side of the bargain.’
‘Will you please stop calling me Bambi? Yes, I know you came up with the name in the first place, but Amber will do fine. And what do you mean? My side?’
‘Okay, then. Amber, I brought my own work uniform...’ Sam waved a hand down his clothing.
‘But you promised me refreshments. So far all I have seen are a small plate of girly mini cupcakes and one mug of weak Earl Grey tea.’
He winced and shook his head slowly from side to side. ‘That. Is not refreshments as I understand them. What’s more, I have just raided your refrigerator and there is nothing more than a couple of low fat yoghurts and some supermarket ready meals.’
He stood back and ogled her, then reached out and pinched her arm.
She wriggled away. ‘Hey. Ouch. What was that for?’
‘Too skinny and too pale and wobbly. By far. That decides it. We, young lady, are going out to get some food. What is your fancy? Mexican? Pub food? Take your pick.’
Amber looked around the bedroom in horror at the debris.
‘I can’t leave now. The flat is a mess and it will take me ages to tidy it up.’
‘But the girls have gone for the day...right?’
‘Well, yes. I don’t have any more appointments.’
‘Good. Because it is two o’clock in the afternoon and neither of us have eaten since breakfast. Right?’
Amber sighed and checked her wristwatch, and then her shoulders sagged. ‘I am flagging a bit. I suppose it would make sense to eat some late lunch...and what are you doing?’
‘Looking for your coat. And which one of these is your handbag? Come on, girl. The sun is still shining and there is nothing fit to eat in this apartment. What do you say? We get some lunch and I volunteer to carry your shopping home from the supermarket on the way back. You can’t get a better offer than that.’
‘Can’t I?’
Amber leant backwards and pulled out her mobile phone from her trouser pocket and was about to sling her cashmere wrap over one shoulder when Sam stepped behind her and wrapped it around her shoulders, gently pressing the collar into her neck, his fingertips touching her, and she blinked in delight then cursed herself for being so needy.
‘Actually, I might have a better idea, but I need to make a phone call. This restaurant can get extremely busy around lunchtime.’
Sam groaned. ‘I might have known. How many awards does it have? Because I have to tell you—I am not in the mood for mini tasting portions served on teaspoons made out of toast.’
She sniffed dismissively. ‘Several. But wait and see. You might just like it. And the table has the most amazing view over London.’
* * *
‘I don’t believe that you ordered home delivery,’ Sam exclaimed and put down his screwdriver as Amber sauntered into the kitchen swinging a large brown paper bag. ‘Don’t tell me that the famous Amber DuBois has suddenly got cold feet about being seen out in public. Or were you worried that I would make you pay the bill?’
Amber sniffed dismissively in reply. ‘Well, someone has a very high opinion of themselves.’ Then she sighed in exasperation and gestured with her head towards the cabinets. ‘Only now I am out of hands. Would you mind bringing the plates and cutlery? Have a rummage in that drawer. Yep. That’s it.’
‘You are avoiding my question,’ Sam said