Secret Admirer: Secret Kisses / Hidden Hearts / Dream Marriage. Christine Rimmer

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Secret Admirer: Secret Kisses / Hidden Hearts / Dream Marriage - Christine  Rimmer


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in the center of its web. The spider had several victims already. One was a pretty, blue butterfly still struggling to get loose.

      Jane swallowed. She’d dressed carefully in a high-collared white blouse, long blue skirt that brushed her ankles, and white cowboy boots. The better to stomp into his trailer and kick him if he got fresh, she’d thought. She’d worn her glasses, and her hair was snug against her nape and secured with even more pins than ever. Some vain, rebellious part of her regretted that the hairdo, glasses and understated makeup had succeeded in making her look so severe and icy.

      Cautiously she stuck her head inside his door while the cat scurried past her. The shadowy trailer was hot, but the coast appeared to be clear to the sink and stove, so she was inside before she realized he’d been asleep on the couch, which meant he was right beside her and close enough to grab her.

      When he sprang to a sitting position, white sheets fell to his waist. Even in the semidarkness she could see that he was lean and nut brown—everywhere. Which meant he wasn’t wearing much. If anything.

      His broad shoulders, wide chest and powerful arms were made of sculpted muscle. His drowsy green eyes, and his heavy, tousled black hair made him look so adorable she had to fight for her next breath. With an effort, she pretended to ignore the funny little darts of excitement zinging through her stomach. She knew she should glance away, but then he looked up at her and blushed shyly, and his gaze seemed full of longing. Was the blush a trick? Did he feel shy and vulnerable around her too? It was strange to think such a thing, that he might not always be as sure and cocky as she assumed he was.

      Whatever he felt, he was not to be trusted.

      Suddenly, maybe because he was so near and looked so male and dear, the trailer felt stifling, and she was burning up. The longer she looked at his wide shoulders and dark chest while she imagined those other more exciting male parts of him under the sheet, the hotter and damper she got.

      “You’d better not be naked!” she squeaked when his cat jumped onto the couch and began to purr.

      “You’re welcome to rip the sheet off and see.”

      “A dirty trick like that from the likes of you wouldn’t surprise me. Well, I’m not afraid of you.”

      “I don’t want you to be.” His white smile charmed her.

      Shaking a little, she went over to the couch and carefully laid the tray in his lap.

      “It wasn’t a dirty trick. It was just awful hot last night, darlin’, and you’re a little early this morning…like always. You had me so busy building those booths for you and then taking them down, plus working for your fund-raiser, that I was too tired to install my blasted window unit last night.”

      The cat walked over to inspect the tray she’d brought.

      “Get down, Julie Baby.” Gently he pushed the cat off the couch and lifted the cover from the first plate. Several slices of wet, blackened pieces of toast lay on the plate. She’d cooked them last night and left them out in the rain. When he removed the cover from a second plate, his black eyebrows arched warily at the smell of fermentation.

      “Creative. Resourceful. Where’d you find the rotten apples on such short notice?”

      “In my compost heap.”

      “And you accuse me of dirty tricks. Looks like we’re made for each other, darlin’.” His quick grin as he shoved the tray aside was disarming. “But, hey, no time like now to find out, is there?”

      Before she could run, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her down onto his lap.

      He was definitely naked. She could feel him under the thin folds of the sheet.

      “Our deal didn’t include anything but breakfast,” she said primly, struggling to free herself until she realized the slightest movements of her hips against his only heightened his arousal.

      “You didn’t fulfill your part of the bargain, darlin’,” he whispered, nuzzling her neck while yanking pins out of her hair. “I bid five thousand dollars for services you have yet to render. Now you have to pay.”

      Her hair cascaded to her shoulders in skeins of shimmering silk.

      “Much better,” he said. “And now off with the glasses.”

      “What do you want?” she asked weakly as he removed them.

      “The same thing you do,” he replied huskily.

      “The position of director of market research?”

      “Among other things.” He used both hands to pull her snug against his body, which made her achingly aware of how hard and muscular his thighs were against hers.

      “Let me go.”

      “This is way more fun than breakfast.” He lifted her hair and lowered his head. With his tongue, he explored her nape. Somehow the gesture was so sweet and sexy and loverly, she could barely breathe.

      “Do you know what you do to me, darlin’? Do you know how delicious you are?”

      “Do you say such things to everybody?”

      “No, you’re very special.” He buried his hands in her hair, wrapping heavy coils around his fist so he could tilt her head back and pull her face closer to his.

      “I don’t believe you.”

      His insistent lips nibbling her flesh were sending wild tremors along the nerves of her jawline.

      “Believe me.”

      “What about Carol?”

      “Forget Carol.”

      “But you two just broke up.”

      “Which is a wonderful thing when you think about it, because her leaving made space in my life for the right person.”

      A swimming giddiness spun her round and round. She had to get up. She had to get out of here, but he was like a magnet, drawing her, compelling her. She’d never ever felt like this, all hot and hollow and wild.

      “You’ll say anything,” she whispered.

      “You’re wrong about me, darlin’.”

      Feeling jealous of Carol, she wanted to snap out something cruel and clever and hurtful, but for some reason she couldn’t think of a single insult. Maybe because she desperately wanted to believe she was wrong about him. Maybe because she didn’t want him to stop kissing her neck or holding her close and making her feel all warm and sexy.

      Had Carol seen him completely naked? Had he held her like this? Kissed her until she was so dizzy she was breathless? Made love to her? On this very couch?

      A little moan escaped Jane’s lips.

      Don’t come crying to me when he gets himself snapped up by some floozy, and you realize you’re in love with him.

      Jane hated it when her mother got inside her brain and said crazy, stupid things that scared her.

      When Jane stopped struggling and turned into him, his lips left her neck. Then he leaned closer, bringing his mouth tantalizingly near her own, so close she could almost taste him. Thinking he was going to kiss her, she licked her lips and closed her eyes. She felt strangely excited and he hadn’t even kissed her mouth yet.

      He was solid and strong, yet she felt his powerful body shaking as he drew each ragged breath. She had the feeling that if she stuck one little toe into this burning tide, she would be swept away. Her head fell back against the couch in an attitude of utter surrender.

      He went very still for a long moment. Then much to her surprise, he abruptly let her go and slid to his end of the couch.

      She opened her eyes in hot confusion.

      He was staring at her as if he felt as lost and disoriented as she did.

      She was in the mood to be ravaged,


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