“Gene would never—”
“You don’t know that. Until we try. Either way, we’ll figure something out. That is, if you want both.”
Now she reached up and held his face, and the look in his eyes almost undid her. Like it was okay for him to be making all the moves, but her touching him, taking him, making the gesture, somehow made it harder on him.
“I want you,” she told him, and the undeniable relief she saw in his beautiful face told her just how worried he’d been. And gave her everything she needed to know. “And I want what Dalton Downs has to offer.”
“But racing—”
“I’ve done what I can do there. And if I hadn’t, these past few days would have done it for me. I—I want to go home. And the only place that calls to me is Dalton Downs. And you.” She held his face even more tightly when his eyes grew glassy. “I’m making a difference there. A greater one than I’ll ever make in racing. And I want to make a bigger one. I want to talk to Kate about taking on more Bonders. About working with more Traceys. But I don’t want any of that if I have to stare up at that pool house, and know you’re in there…and I’m not.” She smiled. “I’m a package deal, however. Love me, love my horse. And we both know she’s a wanton hussy who gets into trouble when you least expect it.”
He wrapped his arms more tightly around her. “Maybe we’ll get her her own guy, and have our own little wild offspring. This one seemed to go okay. Could she do that again? Planned this time?”
Now it was her turn to get glassy-eyed. “She could, but you don’t have to—”
“I’d love to. Deal?”
Her throat tightened against unshed tears. “Deal.”
He kissed her then with such intensity, she got dizzy. Dizzy in the best possible way. “Ah, mi mijita,” he said gruffly, when he finally lifted his head. “I’m still willing to talk to Gene, too. We have the room to build a track. Maybe you could—”
“I know what I want,” she said, her gaze never wavering from his.
He grinned. “Well, then, you’re about to get very, very lucky.”
Springer chose that moment to lift her head and look in their direction. She grumbled, almost as in warning, which had them both laughing.
“Don’t worry,” Elena told her dearest friend. “I’ll be careful.” She squealed as Rafe scooped her up and carried her out of the barn, then thrilled at the wicked grin on his face as he kicked open the door to the little travel trailer they’d been given to stay in for the duration.
“Maybe,” he said, before tossing her lightly down on the bed and following right down after her. He swiftly divested them both of their clothes, pulling her immediately under him, both of them grinning like loons.
“Maybe not,” she said, knowing she’d never tire of feeling his weight on her.
He nipped her earlobe and looked down into her eyes, already lifting her hips even as he slid deep inside of her. “Yeah,” he said. “Maybe not.”
If you liked this book,
you’ve got to try
STRONG AND SEXY
by Jill Shalvis,
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“Why do you look so familiar?” His mouth was close to her ear, close enough to cause a whole series of hopeful shivers to rack her body. He was rock-solid against her, all corded muscle and testosterone.
Lots of testosterone.
“I don’t know,” she whispered, still hoping for a big hole to take her.
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Completely.” Except, you know, not.
“Because I can’t help but think I’m missing something here.”
Yes, yes, he was missing something. He’d missed her whole pathetic attempt of a kiss seduction, for instance. And the fact that she was totally, one-hundred percent out of her league here with him. But his eyes were deep, so very deep, and leveled right on hers, evenly, patiently, giving her the sense that he was always even, always patient. Never rattled or ruffled.
She wanted to be never rattled or ruffled.
“Am I?” His thumb glided over her skin, sending all her erogenous zones into tap-dance mode. “Missing something?”
“Yes. N–no. I mean…”
He smiled. And not just a curving of his lips, but with his whole face. His eyes lit, those laugh lines fanned out, and damn, that sexy dimple. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Definitely missing something.”
“I’m a little crazy tonight,” she admitted.
“A little crazy once in awhile isn’t a bad thing.”
Oh boy. She’d bet the bank he knew how to coax a woman into doing a whole host of crazy stuff. Just the thought made her feel a little warm, and a nervous laugh escaped.
“You’re beautiful, you know that?”
She had to let out another laugh, but he didn’t as he traced a finger over her lower lip. “You are.”
Beautiful? Or crazy?
“You going to tell me what brought you to this closet?”
“I was garnering my courage.”
“For?”
Well wasn’t that just the question of the night, as there were so many, many things she’d needed courage for, not the least of which was standing here in front of him and telling him what she really wanted. A kiss…
“Talk to me.”
She licked her lips. “There’s a man and a woman in that first office down the hall. Together. And they’re…not talking.”
“Ah.” A fond smile crossed his mouth. “You must have found Noah and Bailey. They’ve just come home from their honeymoon. So yeah, I seriously doubt they’re…talking.”
“Yeah. See…” She gnawed on her lower lip. “I was hoping for that.”
“Talking.”
“No. The not talking.”
Silence.
And then more silence.
Oh, God.
Slowly she tipped her head up and looked at him, but he wasn’t laughing at her.
A good start, she figured.
In fact, his eyes were no longer smiling at all, but full of a heart-stopping heat. “Can you repeat that request?” he asked.
Well, yes, she could, but it would make his possible rejection that much harder to take. “I was wondering what your stance is on being seduced by a woman who isn’t really so good at this sort of thing, but wants to be better…”
He blinked. “Just to be clear.” His voice was soft, gravelly, and did things to every erogenous zone in her body. “Is this you coming on to me?”
“Oh, God.” She covered her face. “If you don’t know, then I’m even worse at this than I thought. Yes. Yes, that’s what I’m pathetically attempting to do. Come on to you, a complete stranger in a closet, but now I’m hearing it as you must be hearing it, and I sound like the lunatic that everyone thinks I am, and—”
His hands settled on her bare arms, gliding up, down, and then back up again, over her shoulders to her face, where he gently pulled her hands away so he could see her.
“I saw the mistletoe,” she rushed to explain. “It’s everywhere. And people were kissing. And I couldn’t get kissing off my mind…God. Forget it, okay? Just forget me.” She took a step back, but because this was her, she tripped over something on the floor behind her. She’d have fallen on her ass if he hadn’t held her upright. “Thanks,” she managed. “But I need to go now. I really need to go—”
He put a finger to her lips.
Right. Stop talking. Good idea.
His eyes, still hot, and also a little amused—because that’s what she wanted to see in a man’s eyes after she’d tried to seduce him, amusement—locked onto hers. She couldn’t look away. There was just something about the way he was taking her in, as if he could see so much more than she’d intended him to. “Seriously. I’ve—”
He turned away.
Okaaaay…“Got to go.”
But he was rustling through one of the shelves. Then he bent to look lower and she tried not to look at his butt. She failed, of course. “
Um, yeah. So I’ll see you around.” Or not. Hopefully not—
“Got it.” Straightening, he revealed what he held—a sprig of mistletoe.
“Oh,” she breathed. Her heart skipped a beat, then raced, beating so loud and hard she couldn’t hear anything but the blood pumping through her veins.
His mouth quirked slightly, but his eyes held hers, and in them wasn’t amusement so much as…
Pure staggering heat.
“Did you change your mind?” he asked.
Was he kidding? She wanted to jump him. Now. “No.”
With a smile that turned her bones to mush, he raised his arm so that the mistletoe was above their heads.
Oh, God.
“Your move,” he whispered.
She looked at his mouth, her own tingling in anticipation. “Maybe you could…”
“Oh, no. I’m not taking advantage of a woman in a closet, drenched in champagne.” He smiled. “But if she wanted to take advantage of me, now see, that’s a different story entirely.”
He was teasing her, his eyes lit with mischievousness and a wicked, wicked intent.
“I’m a klutz,” she whispered. “I might hurt you by accident.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
She laughed. She couldn’t help it. She laughed, and he closed his eyes and puckered up, making her laugh some more, making it okay for her to lean in…
And kiss him.
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ANY WAY YOU WANT IT,
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“I had a woman read my tea leaves today, too.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she knew that wasn’t it.
And unfortunately, Ren’s interest was piqued.
“Oh yeah. And what did you find out? Something about having a wild fling with a long-haired, white-eyelashed musician?”
From her violent blush, Ren realized his flirtatious joke had been dead on. Well damn. He had to find that tea leaf reader and give her a big kiss.
He studied Maggie. Had she revealed she wanted him to the fortune teller? There was something thrilling about the idea that she’d made it clear to someone else that she wanted him. Even after his brush off. He didn’t deserve one, but he was damned glad he was getting a second chance with her.
And a wild fling was exactly what he wanted, too. Man, this all seemed to be falling into place so easily. There were brief times in his existence when he didn’t feel quite so cursed. This was definitely one of them.
Of course, he still sensed some reservations in her that he would have to get around. Actually, two distinct feelings swirled around her like a cocoon, one real and one manufactured.
Her announcement had her embarrassed, and she’d also had too much to drink. He could take care of her embarrassment; she had nothing to be ashamed of, period. But he did not want sex with this woman to be the drunken variety. He should have realized that alcohol would affect her more in his presence.
Humans always got more drunk, more tired, more overwhelmed in his presence. A side effect of his nature. Even when he wasn’t trying, he still stole some of a human’s energy, which brought their natural tolerance down. It was part of being a lampir that he couldn’t totally control.
He did not want Maggie drunk when he was with her. He wanted her fully aware of him when he ran his hands over her soft skin, kissed her, and entered her curvy little body.
His cock pulsed against the material of his jeans as if cheering at that idea.
And Maggie was so worth cheering about. Her energy snapped between them. So alive, so powerful. She had a wholesomeness that radiated from her and filled him. He liked that feeling. Wholesomeness. When had he ever known that feeling?
He started to reach out to tuck one of her flyaway waves behind her ear, but stopped himself. She was too uncomfortable now. He needed to give her time to settle down again before touching her, even in the most innocent way.
Instead, he pushed away her drink. “I think you’ve had enough Impaler for tonight.” God, no double entendre there.
She didn’t argue. “I think you’re right.”
“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked, needing to take her somewhere where he could touch her. Not that Sheri would think twice if he decided to make out with Maggie right where they sat. Hell, he’d done more than that at this very table. But Maggie wasn’t like the women he was used to. She needed seduction, not the usual inelegant groping he’d become accustomed to.
“I think that’s a good idea,” she said.
He noticed that her eyes tracked the features of his face as if they were moving. Oh yeah, she’d drunk too much—and he’d taken too much of her energy too. It was so damned hard not to.
“Fresh air might be good,” she said, still looking a little disoriented.
Ren nodded, and immediately regretted the action as she nodded in response, trying to focus on him.
He waved to Sheri, thanking her. Maggie thanked her too, her voice sweet and only a little slurred.
“Maybe we should walk around for awhile,” he suggested.
“I think that’s a good idea.” This time that’s was only slightly slurred.
He took her elbow. She allowed the touch, even leaned into it. He liked the feeling of her against his side, warm and soft. He focused on giving some of his energy back to her. Another trick a lampir had. He constantly took energy from those around him, but he could also give it back. That made him less of a leech, right?
They stepped out of the bar and he headed left onto Bourbon, only to take the next side street off it. The smells of Bourbon did not even approximate fresh air. Between the odor of beer, trash, and other disgusting things, it was not the place to sober up someone who was a little tipsy.
He walked slowly, not pushing her into conversation, in case she didn’t feel quite up to it. But once they were away from the music blaring from within the bars and the air was a little less aromatic, she spoke.
“I already feel better. Thanks.”
“Sure. Not like I haven’t been there.” It took him a lot more than three tumblers of wine and a half an Impaler to get there, but he did understand. And yes, he had been counting her drinks. He’d been aware of everything she’d done since she’d walked into the bar tonight.
They reached Jackson Square, and he gestured to benches lining the outside of the wrought-iron fence. “Want to sit?”
She nodded.
Once they were settled, she turned to him, her big gray-green eyes regarding him solemnly—and more focused.
“I’m sorry I told you about the—thing at the cemetery and the tea leaf reading.”
He wasn’t. He liked both announcements, a lot.
“Well,” he said slowly, “technically you didn’t tell me anything about the tea leaf reading. And I really liked what you had to say about the cemetery tour.”
The dim light couldn’t hide Maggie’s blush.
“That was a really good story,” he added when her gaze dropped to her hands folded on her lap.
“I don’t think blurting out that I wished to have a wild fling really constitutes a story.”
Ren smiled at that. “Oh, I don’t know, I think there’s a story there. And frankly, I’m really hoping that I get to be an integral part of it.”
Her head popped up, surprise clear in her wide-eyed expression. How could she possibly be surprised by that? Did she still doubt that he wanted her? Silly woman.
“Ren,” she started, and the slow way she said his name didn’t make him think he was going to like what she had to say after it. So he did the first thing that came into his mind.
He kissed her.
Tensions are running high
in Charlotte Mede’s
EXPLOSIVE,
available now from Brava…
“What exactly is the nature of your agreement with de Maupassant? Is it money? The promise of notoriety?”
Devon tu
rned her head sharply to look up at him, absorbing the stark lines of his face, the wide mouth above the strong jawline. She pivoted gracefully in his arms, holding herself stiffly as though more conscious than ever of a confused upsurge of unwelcome sensations, of fear and desire. Blackburn felt her invoke her steeliest reserve.
“My relationship with Le Comte has nothing to do with us.”
“He has everything to do with us,” Blackburn muttered. “He’s thrown us together quite deliberately. And he’s prepared to give you access to the Eroica, despite your denials,” he said just as the orchestra struck up a lively minuet.
“It’s not that easy.” Her mouth was set in a firm line. “I don’t want or need your offer of money, or anybody else’s for that matter.”
“Don’t take me for a fool, Mademoiselle. And I won’t take you for the innocent that you pretend to be,” he said in a softly uttered threat. “You know how to play Le Comte for a puppet, and you know exactly how to convince him to relinquish the score to you.”
The confusion and embarrassment clouding her eyes was a fine bit of acting, he thought, looking at her drift away from him a few steps, in perfect time with the music’s rhythm.
“Tell me, is Le Comte sparing with the purse strings?” he continued ruthlessly as his strong arms propelled her back toward him. “One should think those emeralds around your lovely neck would keep you satisfied. Or are you trying for diamonds?”
“Stop it,” she whispered under her breath, then in the next instant lifted her gaze to him boldly as though changing her mind. “Rubies, actually,” she said with a brittle voice. “I’m trying for rubies, if you must know.”
He didn’t like the answer or her bravado. “Then perhaps we should turn up the heat.”
She gave him a mockingly sweet smile, for his benefit or for their audience, he wasn’t sure. “And how do you propose we force Le Comte’s hand?” she asked.
“With the utmost discretion, of course,” he said, fooling neither her nor himself. “As strategies go, you of all people must know how potent the combination of seduction, jealousy, and deception can be, Mademoiselle,” he explained, his voice rough velvet as he led her from the center of the ballroom to the protective shadows of a grouping of leafy plants.
The Black Sheep and the Hidden Beauty Page 36