Miranda Lee - A Woman To Remember

‘Are you in the habit of propositioning perfect strangers?’ he drawled, trying not to sound as shocked as he was feeling. Or as aroused.

He told himself that it was because he hadn’t been with a woman since he’d broken up with Tracy a couple of months before. But underneath he knew this wasn’t so. He’d wanted this she-cat the moment he’d set eyes on her.

A slight frown drew her perfectly arched eyebrows close together. ‘You’re American,’ she said.

He could have enlightened her, but something... some indefinable tension which this mistaken conclusion was evoking in her, made him keep his Australian heritage to himself. He’d been told that he’d picked up an American accent, but he hadn’t believed it till that moment.

‘You don’t like Americans?’ he asked, taking the drink back from her suddenly still hands and draining it dry. He had a feeling he might need to be a little drunk to get through this evening.

‘That depends,’ she said, a touch warily. ‘Are you holidaying here? Or staying indefinitely?’

‘Holidaying,’ he said, quite truthfully. But I might stay indefinitely, came the dark thought. If it means I can spend every night with you.

Already he could feel the blood rushing hotly to his loins. Already...

His flesh might have become a painful and obvious embarrassment if he hadn’t been wearing a longer-line sports jacket loosely over casually fitted dark trousers which also had plenty of room. Luke could put up with the discomfort, if it was his alone to contemplate and suffer in private.

He had no intention of letting this feline huntress see that he was ready prey for her animal-like sexuality. As much as he was turned on by her amazingly forward approach and absolutely knockout body, his male ego insisted that he play hard to get for a decent amount of time.

At least a minute, came the drily self-mocking thought.

‘Does that disqualify me?’ he said lazily.

‘On the contrary,’ she murmured, her husky voice rippling down his spine like a mink-gloved hand. ‘I love tourists. Especially tall, dark, handsome ones with sexy black eyes. You are alone, aren’t you? No little wife or girlfriend back at the hotel, or in the States?’

‘I’m so alone,’ he told her, trying to sound cool but feeling anything but, ‘that it’s positively indecent.’

‘Nothing about you is indecent, handsome,’ she murmured. ‘You’re positively gorgeous and positively perfect. Come with me...’

She pried the empty glass out of his suddenly frozen hand and bent to place it on the floor, giving him an uninterrupted view of her quite perfect breasts. Rising again, she smiled a siren’s smile, slid her right hand into his still frozen left and began leading him away, across the upper gallery floor then down the wide white staircase.

The shredded remnants of Luke’s common sense finally burst through his paralysed brain and he ground to a halt, momentarily resisting the hyp- . notic pull of the softly feminine fingers entwined through his.

‘You’re not a hooker, are you?’ came his harsh-sounding question as they faced each other on the stairs.

He could not have mistaken the momentary shock which flared within those gorgeous green eyes, or his own inner shudder of relief. For what would he have done if she’d said that she was?

Still have gone with her, came the appalling admission.

‘My mistake,’ he muttered. ‘Lead on, lover.’ Obviously she was just a good-time girl, out on the tiles for the night. She wanted a one-night standwithout—complications, without strings.

As much as that was not usually his style, Luke could see that it was going to be for tonight. It was no use pretending that he wasn’t bowled over. More than bowled over. She seemed to have bewitched him with the primitive and alluring sexuality which emanated from every pore of her body. It wafted from her in waves, weaving a spell around his senses, teasing his flesh and his imagination, making him wonder what it would be like to spend the night with her.

She kept glancing over her shoulder at him as she drew him down the rest of the stairs and through the crowded foyer, her eyes sometimes smiling invitingly, sometimes seemingly checking that he was still there—as though she too could not believe he’d come with her so readily.

It was those glimpses of unexpected vulnerability which began intriguing Luke. The suspicion that this was not her usual style either began to form in his mind. She looked at him that way one time too many after they’d finally made it outside into the street, and he suddenly whipped her over into a darkened doorway, pulling her against him in a jolting embrace.

Her shocked gasp and almost frightened eyes confirmed his opinion that she was not used to playing such dangerous games. Either that, or she had never run into real trouble before.

‘You little fool,’ he snarled, infuriated by this last thought. ‘Don’t you know the risks you run in going off with a stranger?’

Her chin whipped up, green eyes glinting an answering fury at him. ‘I take it you’ve changed your mind—is that it?’ she snapped. ‘If so, then say so, damn you.’ She began to struggle to free herself from his arms. ‘I have no time for cowards tonight.’

‘Cowards! Why, you little...’ Red spots of fury went off in his brain like flashlights, and before he knew it he’d grasped a large clump of her hair and yanked it back so that her chin tipped up all the more.

Before she could do more than cry out through startled lips, his mouth clamped down over those lips and he was kissing her as he’d never kissed a woman before. With anger, not passion, with a desire to punish and hurt, not seduce.

But seduction was the final result.

His, not hers. For as his tongue drove repeatedly into the depths of her mouth she moaned a moan which moved him as no woman’s moan had ever done before, making him want to protect her, not punish her. Hold, not hurt.

He found it impossible to keep kissing her with such ferocity. His tongue gentled to a series of sinuous slides against hers, his free hand finding the small of her back and pressing inwards. He thrilled to the feel of her sinking weakly against him, then to the sound of another longer, more sensual moan—this one signalling total surrender to his male domination over her body. It brought a dizzying sense of sexual power, and he simply could not wait to have her naked and trembling beneath him.

‘This hotel room,’ he muttered thickly against her mouth. ‘Is it far?’

She shook her head in the negative, the movement brushing her lush lips to and fro across his.

He shuddered as a rush of blood almost had him doing what he hadn’t done since he was fifteen. Gulping, he drew back from the raw heat of her body to stare down into wildly dilated green eyes. She looked... stunned, he realised. Stunned, and totally at his mercy. It was an exhilarating and intoxicating thought—a male fantasy come true. Impossible to resist.

‘Then take me there,’ he muttered. ‘And take me there quickly...’

The drill contacting his tooth brought Luke back to the present—physically at least—but his mind continued to chum over his still vivid memories.

Had she deceived him with that air of vulnerability, with her seemingly mindless surrender? Had she been so diabolically clever, so skilled in seducing strangers that she had made it seem as if he had been master of what had happened that evening? Whereas in reality she had been the one pulling the strings and making all the moves?

He desperately wanted to believe that she hadn’t been married at the time—although it seemed likely that she had. Given that assumption, he clung to the idea that it had been her first foray into adultery.