Wrangling the Redhead - By Sherryl Woods Page 0,42
the fridge and popped the top. He’d drunk that one and two more on the porch, trying not to admit to himself that he was watching the driveway for the return of Karen Blackhawk’s car.
When the headlights finally cut through the inky darkness, something that felt an awful lot like relief eased through him. He knew then that he was a goner when it came to Lauren.
The car came to a stop close to the main house, and feminine laughter drifted on the night air. He was able to separate Lauren’s low-pitched laugh from Karen’s with no trouble at all. It was the one that sent a shiver down his spine.
He had two choices. He could sit right here, satisfied with the knowledge that she was home safely. Or he could drum up a flimsy excuse and go on over to the house so he could catch a glimpse of her before she went off to bed. So what if she figured out that he’d been watching for her? He was past the point of trying to hide his desire for her, wasn’t he?
Before he could decide whether to follow his usual cautious route or risk making an idiot out of himself, he heard a whisper of sound. Searching the shadows, he spotted Lauren heading his way. So, he thought with satisfaction, that settled that. She was coming to him. It remained to be seen precisely what that meant.
“Is there any more of that wine from the other night?” she asked as she stepped onto the porch.
He nodded and stood up. “The rest of the bottle’s in the fridge. I’ll get you a glass.” He eyed the package she was carrying. “What’s that?”
A wicked grin flitted across her face. “You’ll see,” she said. “Why don’t I get the wine? You need another beer?”
He sat back down and lifted his half-full bottle. “Nope. I’m good.”
“I’ll say,” she murmured as she slipped past him, her perfume every bit as taunting as her words.
Gaze narrowed, he watched her go inside. The woman was up to something, no doubt about it. And it had something to do with that package she was carrying. The prospect of discovering exactly what she was up to filled him with an edgy sense of anticipation.
When she hadn’t returned within the couple of minutes it would take to pour a glass of wine, Wade grew increasingly suspicious. Eventually he heard a rustle of sound and turned toward the door. Lust promptly slammed through him like a freight train.
“What in the name of all that’s holy…?” he murmured before his mouth went dry.
Lauren stood framed in the doorway, wearing something…well, he assumed it qualified as something…what there was of it. Every pale curve, even the dusky peaks of her breasts were plainly visible through the sheer peach fabric that dipped to a low V in front and barely skimmed the tops of her thighs. He’d imagined those creamy, shapely thighs in his dreams, but it turned out his imagination hadn’t been nearly vivid enough to capture the sensuous reality.
As for the rest, the subtly rounded hips, the generous breasts…they were every man’s fantasy. He was hard as a rock, and so hot, he felt as if the sun were blazing down instead of a pale moon. He had to resist the need to wipe the sudden perspiration from his brow.
“Well?” Lauren whispered, her expression expectant.
He struggled to find words, struggled even harder to prevent himself from snatching her into his arms and hauling her straight to his bed.
“I’m speechless,” he managed to say finally in a choked voice.
She gave him a coy look. “Speechless in a good way, I hope.”
“Do you honestly need to ask?”
“Since you haven’t budged, yes, I think I do.”
“It’s better this way,” he said. “If I get out of this chair, there’s no telling what I might do.”
“That’s the idea.”
Again, he swallowed hard and fought temptation. “Not until I know what brought this on.”
“You’ve said it yourself,” she said. “We’ve been heading down this road since the day we met. I’ve just decided it’s time to see what’s at the end of the road.”
“But why now? Why tonight? What the hell went on while you were in town?”
She shrugged and one skinny little strap of the gown slid down her shoulder, allowing even more flesh to be exposed. She ignored it, but Wade couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away. He was way past the point of resisting, but at least he could make a pretense