There's Something About a Rebel.... Anne Oliver
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Lots of colour. Bold …’ She trailed off as she caught his eye and her cheeks grew rosy. ‘I’m getting carried away.’
So was he. With her ideas, the way her voice and its passion for her work flowed over him. But more so with the woman. Her eyes. Her emotions clearly visible with that hint of the sea in their colour. Her hair, its vibrant auburn tint catching the morning sun, her creamy skin. He fisted his hands and rubbed his knuckles to try and curb the impulse to reach out.
He mentally shook his head, assured himself it was purely sexual. It was the perfectly natural response of a horny man to feminine sexuality. And far more comfortable than the alternative.
But she drew him in ways he couldn’t explain. And he’d not felt that intriguing pull of desire for a woman in a long while.
He didn’t want the alternative. Didn’t want the complications that came with it. He didn’t want to hurt her because of it. So. he’d need to make sure this … sexual tug … didn’t clash with a possible temporary working relationship.
‘I’m looking for somewhere to invest some money,’ he said carefully. ‘A business, perhaps.’
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