“Sweetheart,” he said in a low voice, “You were here to see your uncle until you stepped into Fortnum’s and saw me and I saw you. You know it and I know it. You want me to convince you. I’m prepared to do that.”
Yowza.
My stomach pitched and I could feel my br**sts swel , so much so, I was surprised they didn’t poke him in the chest.
I wanted him to convince me, I wanted that a lot. Maybe that was why I said what I said next.
“You have no idea why I’m here.”
His face came closer to mine and for some reason, I didn’t move.
I real y should have moved.
His eyes looking into mine, he said, “No, I don’t. But you’l tel me over dinner tomorrow night.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I do.”
I started to panic, mainly because I was realizing if I didn’t get away, he was going to kiss me.
I pul ed at my arm.
“I need to go inside.”
The hand not on my arm came to my hip and his fingers bit into me, gentle but firm, holding me where I was.
“Where are you staying?” he asked.
My heart started racing.
“Let me go.”
“I see I have to convince you,” he said this like it was an advantageous turn of events that pleased him a great deal.
I was going to say no. I should have been quicker about it, but his hand at my hip pul ed mine into contact with his, his head came down and he kissed me.
Good God.
It was true, these Denver boys did not f**k around. It wasn’t a soft or gentle kiss, a brush or touch of the lips. It was a kiss kiss; his mouth opening over mine, his tongue insistent against my lips until they parted (which, I’m afraid to admit, didn’t take a lot of insisting) and then his tongue slid inside.
His fingers stopped biting into my hip, mainly because I’d leaned into him, my arms lifted and slid around his neck and my left hand went into his hair. I tilted my head to the side and kissed him back.
I couldn’t help it, it was the best kiss I’d ever had. It beat even Bil y’s finest mouth talents by a mile.
When he lifted his head, I kept my eyes closed and breathed. “Holy cow.”
“Where are you staying?” he asked against my mouth.
“Marriott Towneplace Suites on Speer.”
“The old Hirschfeld Press building?”
I nodded, stil feeling a bit dizzy from the kiss and warm and cozy pressed up against his hard body, even though the vodka-stained jacket had fal en off my shoulders.
“Sunshine, open your eyes,” he whispered.
I opened my eyes and he was grinning at me.