Authors: Lynne Roberts
Creative License (15 page)
He walked forward and CJ tensed. Oh gosh, this was bad. This was really, really bad. He smelled like that forest again, and she was in a towel, and he was…oh goodness, he was touching her. Gently, softly touching her shoulder. She closed her eyes, her body thrumming like a guitar string.
“Did the harness give you those?”
She nodded, still not trusting herself to look up at him. If she did, she might drop the towel and offer herself to him like Aphrodite on the altar of love.
“Where else are you bruised?”
“It feels like everywhere I have skin.”
“Can I see?”
She looked up at him, there was a look concern on his face. CJ squelched the stab of disappointment that it wasn’t burning, uncontrollable lust.
“C’mon, I promise not to hurt you.”
That was what
all
men said, but she lowered the towel anyway, not a lot, just so he could check it out, the feel of his eyes on her more erotic than the feel of his fingers.
“You’re black and blue.”
Was she? She almost closed her eyes, but the look in his eyes wouldn’t allow her. There was so much tenderness in his gaze, so much genuine concern her heart instantly forgave him for not tossing her over his shoulder, throwing her on the bed, and having his wicked way with her.
“Why didn’t you tell me the belts hurt you?”
Because she hadn’t cared. Because with him sharing the same airspace as her she was hard pressed to notice much of anything. “Because I didn’t think it mattered.”
His blue eyes narrowed, such pretty blue eyes, so mesmerizing.
“Not matter? Of course it matters.”
Oh, gracious, she didn’t think she could take much more of being near him. Her body had begun to warm. Places that had no business getting excited suddenly cried out for a little action. And when his finger reached out to touch her again, when she noticed that his eyes had never left her own, the realization that he wanted to kiss her hit her with the force of a club.
“Bryce?” she murmured, unsure, hardly daring to hope that she read his expression correctly.
“Yes,” he answered.
But she wasn’t mistaken. He
did
want to kiss her. She could tell. Never mind that her common sense demanded a reason as to why he was suddenly interested in her.
Common sense be damned.
“Bryce,” she said a second time, and was it her imagination, or did she hear a pleading tone to her voice.
Pleading, definitely pleading, because he’d begun to dip his head. Her ears began to ring.
“Don’t get it,” he mumbled.
“Don’t get what?” she whispered, her eyes on his lips, those wonderful, sensual lips. The ringing grew loud.
Ringing?
It was the phone. Darn, darn, darn. Miles-the-editor-from-Hell. What rotten luck. Or was it? She stiffened, suddenly admitting what she’d been about to do, and with whom. Reality came crashing down. Obviously, pickings were slim out in the desert. Why else would Bryce Danvers, the man who could have absolutely anybody, show up on
her
doorstep?
“CJ—” Bryce begged.
She clutched the towel around her like it was the jacket to her black interview power suit and looked up at him, and for the first time in her life she knew what it meant to get lost in someone’s eyes. Never again would she scoff at the silly romantic term. She could feel herself drowning in Bryce, but the jangling of the phone was a persistent reminder of what she was here to accomplish…and it wasn’t a night of wild passion.
Creative License
Lynne Roberts
Loose ends have a way of tripping you up…
Years ago, a law school graduation weekend in Vegas had been part of Lily MacPherson’s plan. Waking up next to a naked Adonis with a ring on her finger was not. After a quick annulment, she relegated Caleb Anderson to her late-night fantasies—and very short list of mistakes—until his voice on the other end of the phone asks a favor that could shake the foundations of her neat and tidy future.
Caleb is still haunted by Lily’s horrified expression that morning in Vegas. At least it had made it easy to set her free…except they aren’t. The papers were never filed. And when the nosy patroness who could launch his painting career insists on meeting his “wife”, does he confess, or call Lily? He calls Lily.
When she steps off the plane, Caleb’s determination to play tour guide disappears in the San Francisco fog. Lily thought she could keep up the pretense for one weekend, cut the last tie to her past, and move on. But their chemistry still pops and sizzles, finally exploding into passion at Caleb’s studio.
It’s everything they remember…but so is the yawning chasm of differences that, in the end, could once again drive them apart.
Warning: Contains balmy ocean breezes, coffee as seduction, the creative use of melted chocolate, and naughty shower lovin’ that gives new meanings to the term “shower head”.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
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Creative License
Copyright © 2011 by Lynne Roberts
ISBN: 978-1-60928-363-6
Edited by Tera Kleinfelter
Cover by Kendra Egert
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
electronic publication: February 2011
