An Offer He Cant Refuse - By Christie Ridgway Page 0,98
who we Carusos are, what I am and what I did, I can't pretend them away." She'd thought she could. Her arms pressed tighter to her ribs. "I can't ask you to pretend them away either."
"I know who you are, Tea."
"No - "Yes.
Yes. She'd just told him, hadn't she? She'd just told him something she hadn't shared with anyone, not her mother, not her sisters, not the FBI. Her bones started rattling again.
Johnny reached out to touch her face. "Sweetheart, you're ice cold and shaking."
"I'm just... it's just..." Her voice was shaking now too. "Please take me home."
"Not before we talk this out."
"I don't want to talk about it anymore." She wanted to go back home to her dressmaker dummies and her TV shows. There, she could stuff the past and her memories, her shame and her anger, into the mental compartments where they'd resided for the last sixteen years. "Please take me home."
"Not until we've warmed you up."
Despite her protests, he pulled her from the car, and wrapping an arm around her, propelled her back to the house. The heat of his body burned against her skin, but couldn't seem to penetrate.
Inside, the entry and living room smelled of fresh paint and the new sofa, chairs, and coffee table were pushed to the center of the room and covered with drop cloths. Tea struggled to muster a professional interest.
"I should check on the painters' work," she murmured.
"Jesus Christ, Tea," Johnny said, sounding irritated. 'Turn off the good girl for once, please." He propped her against a kitchen counter and then pressed a half-full brandy snifter in her hand. "Drink up."
But her trembling fingers made it difficult to bring the rim to her mouth. Johnny muttered another swear word, then covered her wrapped hands with his and helped her bring the glass to her lips. He tilted it too far, and though she took a hasty gulp, some of the alcohol spilled and dribbled down her chin.
His gaze on her face, he made a soft groan. Then he dipped his head and tongued the brandy away.
Now heat spread over Tea's skin, moving from her lips to her breasts to between her thighs. She pressed her spine against the countertop even as his mouth moved and pressed a kiss on hers. He freed the snifter from her hands and set it aside, then cupped her face between his big palms.
"Contessa." He kissed her nose, then each corner of her lips. "Sweetheart."
Oh, she liked that. And oh, she still wanted him. But she closed her eyes instead of succumbing to that warm comfort and that tantalizing sizzle. "You should take me home."
"Tea?"
Her lashes lifted. He was a nose-and-a-half away, his gaze direct. "Is that the good girl talking again or is that the real you?"
"You don't understand - "
"I know you now. We don't have to be in the dark anymore."
"That's not why - "
"I think it was, Contessa."
She shook her head. "You just want more sex," she said, trying to stay strong. "You know I see right through your smooth talk."
A corner of his mouth kicked up in a rueful smile. "You're right. But now I think I see through you, too."
You could recognize charm and temptation and still be swayed by it, Tea thought. But this was never going to last! As a matter of fact, she'd been certain it was over half an hour ago. Yet now... now... oh. He did know her now.
He knew her.
As no one else did.
She reached blindly for the brandy snifter and brought it to her mouth and swallowed more down.
Now, she had nothing to hide and no reason not to indulge while she still could.
And she must be truly wicked, because she couldn't muster any more reasons to deny herself. It was going to end sometime, of course, she knew not to dream of forevers, but it didn't have to end tonight.
Going up on tiptoe, she took Johnny's mouth.
He gave it up without a fight.
She realized she liked that in a man.
Without her crimes or secrets between them any longer, Tea felt free. Not too free, she was quick to remind herself as she stroked her tongue against his.
She would open herself to passion and nothing else.
He speared his fingers in her hair and slanted his head to find a new fit. She took the initiative next, moving her head, moving her mouth, letting it roam from his lips over his chin, to the hot skin of his neck.