Hard To Handle. Jamie Denton
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gave a careless shrug, then shook the tiny numbered ticket inside the equally small suitcase loose. “Lucky me, then.”
And unlucky her.
“Shall we claim our prize?”
“Not so fast.” She snagged the ticket from his fingers. “I’ll be claiming this prize. On my own.” She gave him the hard stare she’d perfected. A lesser man would’ve bolted for the nearest exit. Nolan remained unfazed. “After the shock you’ve given me tonight, I’ve earned it.”
Desperate for distance, she shouldered past him. She wanted time to think, to assimilate and analyze all that had occurred tonight. Needed time to develop a foolproof game plan.
She needed a drink. Now.
Nolan’s big warm hands settled over her shoulders, halting her escape. “You deserve a lot more than some cheesy raffle prize.” He dragged his thumbs rhythmically over her bare shoulders. “Much more than I was capable of—then.”
She wasn’t going anywhere near that comment. Not when she had gooseflesh puckering all over her skin from his touch and her nipples had hardened into tight peaks.
“Let me go, Nolan.”
He didn’t. “I can make it up to you, Mikki.”
His warm breath fanned her ear. The heat of his body warmed her back. She closed her eyes. If only…
“If you’ll let me,” he whispered.
Her eyes flew open. Let him break her heart again? Not a chance. No way would she become one of those pathetic women who continue to make the same mistakes with the same wrong guy, over and over. They were over.
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