Carol Finch - Fit To Be Tied - Fit To Be Tied / The Lyon's Den

“You’ve had training, I take it.”

Jessica nodded. Tangled curls bobbed around her face. “Yes. I’ve also been taught to look for signs of illness. The local vet stops by once a month to check the condition of my animals.”

“I’m impressed.”

Startled, she glanced up. “I thought you disapproved of my exotic misfits.”

Devlin shrugged. “I didn’t say I was all that crazy about ranching next door to your zoo, but I admire your dedication, especially after I saw, firsthand, the handicaps of your charges. I guess a declawed cougar with a crippled hind quarter wouldn’t fare well in the wilderness. Kinda like a young kid fighting her way through the jungle on the streets, I suspect. Interesting similarity, I’d say.”

Jessica shifted uncomfortably. “Okay, Freud, so you figured out that I see myself in some of those animals, feel a strong kinship toward them.”

“How can I not? As I recall, you came at me with teeth bared the first time we met.” He chuckled good-naturedly, then winked in amusement. “Not that I wasn’t spoiling for a fight, mind you, because I definitely was.”

“You reminded me of a roaring lion. It was a learned response to fight fire with fire,” she replied.

Devlin set his empty plate aside, then came down on his knees in front of her. “How about if we get past our lousy start? I’m willing to admit you are nothing like my gold-digging ex-girlfriend. I sure as hell hope I’m nothing like your ex-fiancé.”

“I’ll concede that you aren’t,” she murmured.

He noticed that Jessica swallowed nervously when he got up close and personal. The room shrank to the space she occupied, stealing much-needed air and making it impossible for him to breathe normally. The woman was so darn appealing. Even when she didn’t look her best, she was still the embodiment of every man’s wildest fantasy. Devlin felt the impossible lure and wondered if he needed a refresher course in willpower to withstand the kind of temptation Jessica Porter represented. If Devlin hadn’t known it before, he knew it now. He was wading in over his head.

DEVLIN COCKED his head and studied her. “Am I making you nervous, Jess?” he asked in a husky voice.

“Uh-huh,” she wheezed.

“Want me to back off?”

“Uh-uh,” she said honestly, spontaneously.

“Smart woman like you has probably figured out that I really want to kiss you again. Is that a problem?” he whispered, his coal-black eyes locked on hers.

“Definitely could be the start of one,” she murmured, her gaze dropping helplessly to his full lips that were mere inches from her suddenly dry mouth. “You aren’t going to take advantage while I’m injured and vulnerable, are you?”

“Funny, I thought I was the vulnerable one at the moment.” His gaze dropped, then returned to her face. “Do you have the slightest idea what effect that skimpy robe is having on me? You don’t happen to have something in a floor-length terry cloth, do you?”

Jessica glanced down to see that her breasts were dangerously close to spilling from the gaping robe. She made a grab for the fabric. “I wasn’t doing that on purpose.”

“I know. That’s what makes you all the more appealing to me,” he admitted hoarsely.

“Yeah?” Her breath hitched when he inched nearer.

“Yeah, and I’m going to kiss you now.”

Having made his intentions known, and giving her a second to object—which she didn’t, thank goodness—Devlin tasted her rosebud lips and experienced the same dizzying head rush that had assailed him earlier. He wasn’t sure if the sound he heard was pounding rain or his heart thrumming in his ears. Didn’t matter, really. The effect was the same—it drowned out everything except the hot, mushy sensations that spread through every nerve and muscle in his body. Even his wet clothes couldn’t cool him down when Jessica looped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. He was burning alive in the time it took to draw breath—one so thick with her unique scent that every sensible thought launched into orbit around Pluto.

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