An Offer He Cant Refuse - By Christie Ridgway Page 0,83
on the back of her neck or on the small of her back, his mouth a whisper away from her ear. Her skin seemed to be lifting toward his touch, nerve endings quivering in anticipation of his next stroke or his next breath.
And trying to play it cool only heightened her sexual tension.
He bought her more things. A glittery tube of lip gloss. A goofy necklace with her name spelled out in fluorescent bead blocks. When he drew her hair to the side to latch it on, he also unfastened the top button of her chambray shirt to loosen the collar. The second button popped free of its own accord, but when she reached up to fasten it, he grabbed her hand.
"Don't," he whispered against her fingers. His lips were warm and soft.
Swallowing hard, she jerked her gaze away from his and glanced down at what the loosened buttons revealed. Nothing even R-rated. Only a hint of cleavage that rose and fell with each of her ragged breaths.
She left it alone, but had to move quickly away before she forgot her cool and begged him to touch her, taste her, have his way with her. She hadn't decided yet that she could risk that again.
But the wanting to didn't get any better when they happened upon a vendor selling candles and bath products. He picked out half a dozen pillars in various heights, lining them up and looking them over with a critical eye. "What do you think?" he asked her.
"What do I think about what?"
"I want candles in my bedroom. How many? What color? Which sizes?"
She stared at him, her imagination leaping up to paint the scene. The big bed, surrounded by flickering flames, illuminating their reflections in the mirror overhead. Her skin burned, her womb clenched.
"Tea? You're the designer. What do you think?"
Blinking, she pulled out of the fantasy. Johnny was watching her, his own face expressionless. Clearing her throat, she wiped her damp palms on her jean skirt and then commanded her fingers to remain steady as she pointed out possibilities. As the saleswoman wrapped them in tissue paper, Johnny picked up a small sample vial of scented oil.
He sniffed it, then pressed his fingertip on the top to collect a drop. His hand found hers.
She tried pulling away, but he held fast and turned her arm to expose the paler underside. Her gaze couldn't leave his hand as he stroked the oil on her inner wrist. The scent of bergamot and citrus bloomed between them. "What do you think about this?"
She stared at the wet line he'd painted on her skin. I think I'm in trouble! How could she manage to hold her own against someone so much better at the art of seduction? She was supposed to be playing here, not losing her head. The ridiculous bead necklace was already halfway to stealing her heart.
No. Of course it wasn't.
His fingertips tickled up her forearm to the bend in her elbow. "It says it's called 'Heat of Passion.'"
Tea licked her lips and was glad of the oversized sunglasses shielding her eyes from him. "It smells... heady."
"So do you, Contessa."
She shook her head, knees weak. "You're too good at this."
He froze, then his touch slipped away from her skin. Pivoting toward the saleswoman, he accepted the bag of candles and then set off down the aisle.
Perplexed by his abruptness, Tea started after him. "Johnny? Johnny, wait."
He hesitated, then paused to let her catch up. "Sorry."
She tried to determine what had gone awry, but he wore that damned detached expression so well there was no clue to be found on his face. "I didn't mean to, but it was the wrong thing to say, wasn't it?" The knowledge that something she said might actually affect him had its own special pull.
"Don't worry about it. It's nothing I haven't heard before." He strode off again, then halted once more to confront her. "I want to have you, Tea, but I don't want to hurt you."
Her fingers flew up to the bead necklace, already warm from her skin. She didn't like that rough note in his voice. She didn't like him mentioning her name and "hurt" in the same sentence. "I thought you said you wanted a distraction. That doesn't sound serious enough to cause either of us any pain, Johnny." It was the only reason she was remotely entertaining the possibility.
"Yeah." He spun back around. "Of course. Let's find those albums you're looking for."