more like an office rover than anything. Ha!” She snorted, then caught herself. “I’m Rover. Woof!”
The stranger laughed and seemed to relax into the pillar. “Let me get this straight…you hate costume parties and you hate being here, but since Mr. Wilder isn’t coming tonight, you’ve decided to empty his stash of expensive wine?”
“Pretty much.” She nodded. As the thought of Mr. Wilder coming home to his mansion and finding an emptied wine cellar struck her, Emelia laughed, lurched forward, and slapped the stranger in the chest. The instant her hand struck a warm slate of stone, she drew it back and held it against her stomach. “Have you ever met him?”
His brown eyes burned with hints of desire. “Once or twice.”
“What’s he like?”
“He’s a bit of a prick, really. Cold. Controlled. Probably not your type.” He frowned at the last part, though he couldn’t have known how true he shot. “What’s your name?”
She teetered a bit, closer to his tantalizing masculine scent, then farther away. “Emelia Hudson, but friends call me Emie. I’m not usually like this, I swear. I can usually hold my liquor; I’m a bartender for crying out loud. I think it’s because I haven’t eaten anything today.” She squinted, her vision going a bit blurry. What was happening? “I’m starving.”
“You’re a bartender? I thought you said you were a temp.”
“Potato, potahto. Ooh, I could really go for some fries right now.” The chandeliers began to tilt and spin as the floor rolled beneath Emelia’s feet. She closed the distance between them and stood up on teetering tiptoe to meet him eye to eye. Her skin flushed hot. If the temperature in the cellar hadn’t just skyrocketed, she was the first twenty-five-year-old on record to start menopause. “Am I as hot as you are? I mean, are you as hot as I am? No, that’s not right either.” She paused, slowing her thoughts to molasses. “Is the room spinning for you, too?”
She may have been seeing things, but could’ve sworn the stranger nodded. “You’re not what I was expecting to find when I came down here tonight. You’re not afraid to say what’s on your mind, are you?”
“Nope.” She put her hand to her head, steadying herself. “Never have been.”
A strange vibe shot between them as he put two fingers to her chin and lifted her gaze to his.
“There’s something about you,” he whispered. Emelia felt like a puppet on a string, held captive by the two fingers holding her chin. “You’re…different.”
“Is diff’rent good?” It had to be the wine. It had to be the hint of want sparking in the stranger’s dark, brooding eyes. It had to be the fact that she’d never see him again—Wilder Financial Services was a maze of offices and halls. The urge to taste the stranger’s lips overtook her. “What am I doing?” As the question escaped her lips, Emelia pressed forward, brushing her lips against his.
His mouth was soft and supple. Dreamier than it should’ve been. Maybe it was the excitement of kissing a stranger. Yup, had to be it. Excitement sizzled through Emelia’s body, curling her toes, crinkling the skin over her bones. No one had ever riled her up this much from doing so little. It was a kiss. A tiny little kiss that could’ve been forgotten.
There was no way she’d forget this. As Emelia parted her lips to draw the stranger’s tongue into her mouth, he pulled back.
“We probably shouldn’t,” he said, but the hunger in his eyes spoke otherwise.
How could he deny her? She’d already tasted the sweetness of his lips and wanted more. As she leaned forward to catch his mouth, she misjudged the distance between them and smashed against his chest. He caught her, roping an arm around her waist.
“Forget me tomorrow. Hell, forget me tonight.” Shivers danced over Emelia’s skin and she closed her eyes. “But kiss me now.”
He squeezed her tightly against him. Crushed his mouth to hers with more passion than she expected. She became drunk on his mouth, his kiss, the way he worked his tongue like a skilled lover. He tasted of wine and lust and intensity unlike anything she’d ever had. She lost herself in him. Felt her body pull to his. She molded against his sculpted chest. Moaned into his mouth and dug her fingers into his hair.
With a growl, he pulled back, keeping her at arm’s length, his fingers gouging into her shoulders. “This isn’t possible.” He breathed hard, chest heaving. “This can’t be happening.