by Rob
“And whatever you do, don’t come.”
50 Surrender to Temptation Part I: Tempted to Submit / Jameson, Lauren
Read more of Devon and Zachariah’s tumultuous passion in
Part II of SURRENDER TO TEMPTATION
TEMPTED TO REBEL
Available from InterMix on January 8, 2013
Surrender to Temptation Part I: Tempted to Submit / Jameson, Lauren 51
And keep reading for a special preview of
Lauren Jameson’s upcoming erotic romance novel
BLUSH
Available from NAL in May 2013
It is easy to tell that someone is watching me.
I draw my finger down the side of my glass, tracing a fat stripe in the condensation, while resisting the urge to sneak a peek through my eyelashes at the man seated down the bar from me, to my right.
I haven’t turned my head, haven’t looked at his face. It is more the feeling, that prickling of the skin at the back of my neck—the primordial human sense of being watched.
Though I am curious—men don’t often take much note of me—I resist looking. I have a purpose here tonight, a goal.
I have to focus on that. It’s a small goal, to be sure, but it is a giant step on the road to getting my life back.
I feel jittery, and drum my fingers on the sticky surface of the bar to release some nerves. The clicking of my nails on the wood is an irritant as it scrapes across my ears. Having wiped my soda glass clean of its chilled fog, I lift it to my lips for a sip. The straw is bent at an awkward angle, and I have to open my mouth wide to catch it between my lips.
“You seem nervous.” The words are low, velvety and unexpected. I jolt, forcing syrupy sweet cola to splash from my cup.
“Dammit.” I reach for a napkin to mop the spill from my hand. Embarrassed now, I swivel on my bar stool to face the person to whom the voice belonged.
My breath catches in my throat and I feel a jolt of adrenaline straight to my gut when I raise my eyes to the person who has startled me so. This is the man who had been seated down the bar from me, this I know, though I couldn’t have told you how, exactly. Maybe because he radiates a . . . glow, for lack of a better word. Yes, a glow, one that is impossible to ignore.
His hair is dark, the color of salty black licorice. His eyes are deep blue, like the sea. He appears to 52
Surrender to Temptation Part I: Tempted to Submit / Jameson, Lauren 53
be maybe a few years older than me, which puts him in his late twenties. His face . . . he looks like a wicked temptation with concern etched in the fine lines around his lips.
His body . . . ooh, his body. Though it is covered in expensive-looking clothing, a soft button-down shirt and neatly pressed black slacks, his strong physique can’t be hidden.
“Are you all right? I didn’t mean to frighten you.” There is that voice again. It holds just the faintest hint of an accent, Irish or perhaps Scottish, one that has faded with time. Perhaps he moved here as a child?
I catch myself staring, and then I notice the resultant smirk on his lips. It doesn’t matter where he was born; it doesn’t matter what he looks like.
He can’t possibly be interested in me.
He seems to be waiting for an answer, though, so I shuffle through the last few minutes in my mind and come across the question he has asked.
“Yes. Yes, I’m fine.” I need something to do with my hands. I pick up my abandoned soda, suck hard on the straw. The wetness eases the discomfort of my mouth, which is suddenly dry as the desert dust outside.
I dart another glance at the handsome creature beside me. His eyes are fixed on my mouth, his expression entranced.
He sees me watching him. Instead of trying to pretend that he hasn’t been looking at my mouth, he draws his stare lazily up to my eyes, not caring that I know.
His utter confidence makes something unfurl deep in my belly.
“I’m fine.” I repeat the words to break the silence that is growing uncomfortable . . . uncomfortable for me, at least. “I just . . . you startled me.”
Most people—at least, most people that I know—would have apologized for it, whether the words were meant or not. This man pinches his lips together in irritation and, as if I am a child, removes the nearly empty glass from my hand.
54 Surrender to Temptation Part I: Tempted to Submit / Jameson, Lauren
“You should never be startled. Always know where you are.” He reaches behind me to set the glass on the bar. The ice rattles against the glass walls. As he leans, he moves in very close to me, just for a moment. The heat that he gives off reminds me of the sun at midday in Nevada, glowing golden and hot enough to incinerate.
I narrow my eyes as I study him—I’m certain that I’ve never met him before. Yet his words strike a chord deep within me, a meaning that he may not have meant layered over the simple sentence.
Always know where you are. Well, there’s my problem in a nutshell, isn’t it? In the past year I’ve lost all sense of where I am—of who I am, really.
I bite my tongue until I taste blood, not willing to tear up in front of this man. He couldn’t have known how lost I’ve been feeling. Really, I should be irritated with him for scolding me like he has.
I’m a grown woman, after all—no matter how much I have felt like a lost child in recent memory.
Many people would feel uncomfortable under the intense scrutiny that I have been directing his way. This man doesn’t flinch, doesn’t blush, doesn’t toss me a cocky smile. Instead he returns my stare, unabashed, stoic even, letting me look my fill. He doesn’t touch me, either, but after he sets the glass down, I feel as if his hands had been all over me.
Lauren Jameson is a writer, yoga newbie, knitting aficionado, and animal lover who lives in the shadows of the great Rocky Mountains of Alberta, Canada. She’s older than she looks—really—and younger than she feels—most of the time. She has published with Avon and Harlequin as Lauren Hawkeye and writes contemporary erotic romance for NAL. Visit her online at www.laurenjameson.com
and www.laurenhawkeye.com.
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