Unknown - [Carly Phillips] The Bachelor (The Chandler Brothe(Bookos.org) (1)

absolutely had to make polite conversation with Roman, she’d be able to do so with poise and ease.

With a new attitude, she pushed open the door and walked smack into Roman’s broad chest. The incredible scent of musky aftershave and potent male surrounded her. Aroused her. She sucked in a surprised breath.

As she stepped back on unsteady feet, he grabbed her forearms with both hands. “Easy.”

Easy? Was he kidding? His palms felt warm, solid, and too good on her bare skin. She looked up into his blue eyes. “This is the ladies’ room,” she said inanely. She sighed. So much for poise, sparkling conversation, and wit.

“No, this is the hallway. The ladies’ room is behind you and the men’s room is down the hall.” He grinned. “I should know. I practically grew up here.”

“I need to get back to my table. Beth’s waiting. Beth Hansen, you remember her, right?” Charlotte rolled her eyes This was getting worse and worse.

To her chagrin, he laughed. “Well, at least now I know you remember me.”

She didn’t pretend to misunderstand him and couldn’t bring herself to lie. “I was late, in a rush, Beth was waiting.” She lifted her hands, then let them fall to her sides.

“So you didn’t mean to ignore me.”

A burning flush rose to her face. “No. I . . . I have to go. Beth’s waiting for me. Again.”

His rough hand brushed her cheek and a tremor of awareness shot through her body, a quiver he couldn’t possibly miss. “I’ll let you get back to your table as soon as I ask you a question. It’s been ten years and the attraction between us is still going strong. When are you going to give in?”

When hell freezes over came to mind, but she clamped her mouth shut. Because she didn’t really mean it, for one thing, and because he didn’t deserve such a crushing rejection, for another.

She licked her dry lips. “When are you going to give up trying?”

He grinned. “When hell freezes over.”

He would have to mimic her thoughts. She leaned back against the wall for support and protection, but it meant little when Roman took another step forward, locking her body between the wall and his lean, hard, masculine frame.

Years melted away as his hands bracketed either side of her head and his lips hovered near her jaw. The warmth of his breath against her cheek and the pressure of his body against hers felt tantalizingly good, making her wonder why she’d resisted him for so long. Her eyelashes fluttered closed and she allowed herself to enjoy the erotic sensations pulsing through her veins. For the moment, she reminded herself. No longer.

He was attractive and out of reach, like the exotic destinations she researched and dreamed about but would never visit. Because she wasn’t her father and her life was here. Stability and a solid future were tied to this town, to having roots. But Roman’s lips nuzzling at the soft spot between her jaw and her ear Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

made her want to forget safety and routine. Warmth trickled through her veins, moisture dampened her panties, and she wanted so much more than she’d let herself admit before.

“Have dinner with me on Friday.” His throaty voice reverberated in her ear.

“I can . . .” His lips settled on her earlobe, his teeth nuzzling exactly the right spot. White hot arrows of desire shot to other, more private, sensitive areas and the wash of sensation made her body come alive.

She moaned aloud, ending her sentence and cutting off any negative contraction she’d intended.

His teeth nipped, then alternated with delicious laps of his tongue, at once fierce yet feather-soft and light, and more seductive than the deepest desire she’d ever harbored inside her. If his intent was to sway her, he was doing an amazing job. His lips lingered, damp and warm, undemanding yet so very seductive at the same time. A small voice in her head tried to rebel, reminding her this was Roman and he’d leave as soon as his mother was well, or as soon as he grew bored with this town. With her.

She ought to walk away. Then he caressed the shell of her ear with his tongue and blew lightly on her damp skin. Oh, but he tempted her, and a moan escaped her barely parted lips.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he whispered.

She forced her eyelids open. Yes to a date with him? “No.”

“That’s not what your body’s telling me.”

He didn’t step back, which made this rejection harder than any she’d delivered in the past—because he was right. “My body needs a keeper.”

A charming grin touched his lips. “Now, that’s a job I wouldn’t mind taking.”

“Only while you’re in town, of course.” She forced an easy smile.

“Of course.” He finally stepped back, giving her much-needed breathing room. “You should know, I’m a man who appreciates a challenge, Charlie.”

She stiffened at the use of her father’s nickname for her. He’d chosen her name, Charlotte Bronson, in honor of his favorite actor, Charles Bronson. “Charlotte,” she corrected Roman.

“Okay, Charlotte, you pique my interest. You always have. And if I can admit it, so can you.”

“What’s the difference what I’m willing to admit? You don’t always get what you want in life.” Lord knew she rarely had.

“But if you try sometime, you just might get what you need.” He propped one shoulder against the wall and grinned.

“I’m impressed. You know the Rolling Stones.” She applauded for effect.

“Better. I know how to apply their words to life.” He pushed himself off the wall and rose to his full height. “Mark my words, Charlotte. We will have another date.” He started down the long hall, then turned back. “And based on your reaction and mine, we’ll probably share a whole lot more.” His voice rang with certainty and promise.

Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

“Okay, sure, Roman. We’ll have that date, all right.”

At her words, his eyes opened wide.

“The day you decide to stay in town.” And since that would never happen, Charlotte thought, neither would his proposed date. He posed no threat to her at all. Yeah, right.

“The more you challenge me, the more determined I get.” He laughed, obviously not believing she meant what she had said.

Little did he realize she was deadly serious. Nothing more could happen between Charlotte and the carefree world traveler, unless, of course, she wanted to end up alone and abandoned, like her mother.

But Roman had thrown down the verbal gauntlet. Now all she had to do was remain strong enough to resist.

CHAPTER THREE

By the time Roman walked out of Norman’s and into the cooler night air, he had a job to do.

Chase had gotten an emergency call from his editor, Ty Turner, who needed to miss the town meeting in order to accompany his pregnant wife to the hospital. The last thing Roman wanted to do was take over that assignment, but he did want to lighten his brother’s load. So he volunteered to cover the meeting.

And so, while Rick headed to a pay phone to call and check on Raina before heading back to work, and Chase retired to do some work for next week’s edition, Roman was on his way to tonight’s bickering session.

He glanced at his watch, noting he had a few minutes to kill. A few minutes to browse the seductive shop next door and figure out who owned it. One look at Charlotte, and he’d nearly forgotten his own name. No way he’d been focused enough to ask her about her new business.

He focused on the window display and his mouth opened wide. Were those crocheted panties on the amazingly lifelike mannequin? In the conservative town of Yorkshire Falls? He couldn’t have been more astonished. He felt a distinct rush of arousal when he realized that raven-haired mannequin bore an uncanny resemblance to Charlotte. Suddenly realizing he looked like an old lech leering at women’s lingerie, he stepped back. God, he hoped to hell no one was watching, or he’d never live down the embarrassment.