Kylie Brant - Undercover Bride

She let her eyelashes flutter, and parted her lips. Her body softened against his. She didn’t have to feign her breathy gasps for air. She saw the instant the laughter faded from his eyes, to be replaced with primitive masculine intent. His knee pressed between hers, and his mouth descended slowly, his gaze fixed on hers.

And a moment later he stilled, his lips a fraction away, male discomfort evident on his face. “Ah…you know that your knee is in a very tender spot…you do know.”

She smiled sweetly.

“My mother is expecting grandchildren.”

“Then I’d advise you to get up. Slowly.”

With exaggerated care he rose, moving back cautiously while she stood, as well. He watched the self-satisfied look settle upon her face and it brought an answering smile. Damn, if she wasn’t something. Unexpected, alluring, intriguing. And sexy enough to melt a glacier.

He stepped forward, stuck out a hand. “Truce?”

She eyed it suspiciously, before putting her hand in his. The moment their fingers clasped he yanked her against him, and wrapped his arms securely around her waist to keep her there. “Remember,” he whispered, his lips close to hers, “never trust an opponent. Especially one promising peace.”

His mouth closed over hers for a quick, teasing sampling, but lingered when reaction rocketed, smashing expectations. There was more here than he’d anticipated, far more to be shared than a casual kiss between acquaintances. He paused, his lips motionless on hers for a heartbeat. He’d faced danger often enough to recognize it, often enough to avoid it when possible. A visceral instinct was warning him now, screaming at him. It wasn’t like him to ignore it. It wasn’t like him to rush in regardless, to mindlessly dive into sensation.

He deepened the kiss for a heated, hungry taste. Her tongue glided along his in a velvet dance and need slammed into him. Inner warnings went ignored. The battle changed, became passion warring against passion, strength pitted against strength.

He hauled her closer. Her arms welcomed him, twined around his neck and enfolded him in a greedy embrace. Their mouths mated, tongues battling and bodies straining against each other. One of her hands raked into his hair, the other gripped his shoulder. The evidence of her desire stripped his mind clean.

She was a medley of wild flavors and silken textures. Her mouth was pure sin and was rapidly driving him beyond reason. The arousing scent of her lingered in the curves and hollows of her neck, and behind her ear. He swept his palm down her spine, cupped her bottom, damning the fragile barrier of clothes between them. He wanted to explore her. He wanted to find all the secret places that made her gasp and moan and beg. He wanted to drink the cries from her lips and wring them from her again and again, until he’d marked her for his own.

And the depth of that wanting shocked him. It fired an alarm through his system that wouldn’t be stilled, that couldn’t be ignored. He lifted his head, although need still pounded through his veins like a locomotive. The cessation of pleasure was keen, and it took effort not to reach for her again. Because it took such effort, he took a step away from her. And then another.

“I’d better get back to the office.”

He barely recognized his voice, edgy and ragged. He watched her eyes, still dazed and slightly drugged-looking and it was all he could do to keep from dragging her to him again, pulling the damn holder from her hair and tangling his fingers in the thick blond strands. Deliberately, he turned his back and walked over to where he left his clothes.

After a moment, she did the same. Buttoning her shirt was a task that required concentration. Donning her socks and shoes gave her an excuse not to look his way. But not looking at him couldn’t stem the tide of emotions flooding through her. She needed time; time to get things back in perspective, time to reset her course.

Her fingers faltered over knotting her shoe, and she gave a mental curse. She ordered her flagging composure back by sheer force of will. It wasn’t as if this was the first time she’d been kissed by a thoroughly reprehensible man, one being investigated for his involvement in heinous activities. Fingers stilling in their tasks, she drew a deep breath and released it.

But God help her, it was the first time she’d enjoyed it.

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