Bared. Jill Shalvis
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from her.
“You said it would be our tradition,” he said. “Just you and me, and you promised to kiss me after every shoot.”
Oh God.
“You always have followed through on that promise, even when I didn’t want you to. So what I’m wondering now is, why haven’t you kissed me yet?” His vow was low and spellbinding, his eyes so fascinating she couldn’t tear hers away.
Research, she told herself. Simple research. She could lean forward, kiss him and chalk it up to the wild, sexy experience she needed for her script.
Oh, yes, it was quite the sacrifice, but she could do it. Closing her eyes, she waited. And waited.
Finally she opened them again.
Only to find his filled with amusement. “You’re supposed to kiss me, remember?”
Right.
Oh man, Amber, you have no idea what you’re asking of me…
He cocked a brow. “Problem?”
“No—” Her voice cracked, so she cleared her throat and then licked her lips. “No problem.”
His gaze darted to her mouth. “You always were a tease.”
That got her. Tease? Well, tease this…and lifting up, she went after him.
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