Michelle Celmer - Exposed - Her Undercover Millionaire

“I was right,” he said with a sizzling smile that sent her internal temperature skyrocketing. “You probably hear this all the time, but you’re a beautiful woman.”

No, she hadn’t heard it in a long time. If he kept saying things like that, kept looking at her that way, she was going to forget all the reasons this was wrong. Why they could only be friends. Which she suspected was exactly what he was hoping.

Their eyes locked, and though she knew she should look away, her gaze felt glued to his.

Was he going to kiss her? God knows she wanted him to.

He dipped his head slightly, and she lifted her chin to meet him halfway, but he only pressed his forehead to hers. Her disappointment, the desire to feel his lips on hers, to taste him, was almost too much to take.

The song ended and he took her hand, leading her back to the table. “It’s getting late. I should get you home.”

She looked up at the clock over the bar and was surprised to see it was almost midnight. Hours later than she typically stayed out. But she was having so much fun she hated to leave. Then again, if he took her home, maybe he would kiss her good-night. She knew she shouldn’t let him, that it would be leading him on. There was no future for them. But the idea of his lips on hers was making her weak in the knees.

She put on her shoes and jacket and they walked out to the parking lot. She felt so unsteady on the gravel, he had to slip an arm around her.

“My car is still at work,” she said.

“Yeah, but you’re in no condition to drive.”

“But how will I get to the office tomorrow?”

“I’ll come by in the morning and drive you over there so you can pick it up.”

Sounded like the perfect solution, because then she would have to see him again. Maybe that was the whole point. Maybe he wanted to see her again, too.

He helped her into the truck, then walked around and got inside. “Where to?”

She gave him the directions to her apartment complex. It struck her as very odd, as he drove her home, how comfortable she had come to feel with him. Considering they had known each other a grand total of nine hours. It usually took her time to warm to people, to let down her guard. To trust. She was a private person by nature, but she’d told Brandon things tonight that she’d only told her closest friends. People she had known for years. Even her secretary, who had been with her since she started her company, knew very little about Paige’s childhood. Maybe because she and Brandon had similar dysfunctional pasts she felt comfortable confiding in him.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Brandon said, glancing over at her. “Everything okay?”

“Fine. I feel good. In fact, I haven’t felt this good in a really long time. I had so much fun tonight.”

“So did I.”

When they got to her complex, he parked out front and walked around to open her door. As she got down, she wobbled on her heels and nearly lost her balance.

“Whoa!” He caught her under the arm, saving her from taking a header onto the concrete walk. “You all right?”

“I guess I’m a little tipsier than I thought,” she said, clinging to his arm, feeling his hard muscle underneath warm skin. She couldn’t stop herself from wondering how the rest of him felt. And what he would do if she tried to find out. After all the bumping and grinding they had done on the dance floor, at the very least she’d earned a kiss good-night.

They reached her door and he took her keys to unlock it, then he turned to her. “I had a real nice time tonight.”

“Me, too.” Now kiss me and put me out of my misery.

“Thanks for keeping me company.”

“You’re welcome.” Come on already. Just do it, she urged silently, and something in his eyes said he read her loud and clear. He stepped closer, and the world seemed to slip into slow motion.

His head dipped down and her chin lifted. Her eyes slipped closed, and she held her breath, waiting to feel his lips on hers. Would it be slow and sweet, or reckless and wild? Would his lips be as soft as they looked? And how would he taste?

She felt his breath across her mouth, caught the clean scent of his aftershave, then felt the brush of his lips … on her cheek?

Huh?

He lingered there for a few seconds, his breath warm, his lips soft. Then he started to back away, but having spent the last several hours in a perpetual state of sexual excitement, a simple kiss on the cheek was not going to cut it at this point. Shoving aside her last shred of good sense, Paige slid her arms around his neck, pulled his head down and pressed her lips to his.

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