Contracted: A Wife For The Bedroom. Carol Marinelli
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the number and after an impossibly lengthy time of being placed on hold she gave in and punched in the number for a taxi.
‘No luck?’ Hunter asked needlessly, having listened to her rather exasperated one-sided conversation.
‘I’ve been placed in the queue.’
Which meant she was there for the duration. Staring out into the dark night, the rain lashing at her windscreen and no prospect of escape for the next couple of hours at best, Lily decided that if he offered again she’d let him take her home. After all, she’d been worried about him driving—this way she could make sure that he was OK and give him a quick coffee before he headed off to his house.
Happy with her decision, she waited expectantly, a frown forming on her face as Hunter opened the passenger door.
‘Well, good luck,’ he said. ‘I hope you’re not waiting too long.’
Damn! Lily cursed in her mind as he swung his legs out, yet still she was sure he was testing her, sure that he would offer again.
But clearly he wasn’t into games. Even as the thought formed she was privy to the rather gorgeous sight of him, lean and long-legged, briskly walking across to his car, and Lily knew if she didn’t do something she’d be stuck her for ages, knew that he’d left it to her to make the next move.
A man like Hunter didn’t need to offer his services twice.
Even as she threw her keys and phone in her bag and opened the car door, even as she locked her vehicle and dashed across to his sleek silver car, Lily knew the decision she’d made, though on the surface it appeared rational, was perhaps the most dangerous, illogical thing she’d done in her life. Thumbing a lift on the freeway would possibly be more sensible—better the devil you didn’t know perhaps. Yet she wanted to do this and was curiously elated that fate had intervened and her brief dalliance with this unforgettable man wasn’t yet over.
His headlights came on, illuminating her in the darkness, and for a second Lily froze, blinking into them, drenched and exposed. She could envision the glint of the triumphant smile that was surely gracing that surly, beautiful mouth. This was a man who liked to be in control.
Unlike Hunter, who’d so boldly climbed into her vehicle, Lily went to tap on his window, but already he’d opened it, staring up as if he’d been expecting her, his hair damp and flopping over his forehead, music wafting out of the car’s stereo, his hands loosely holding the leather-covered steering-wheel. Never had a car looked more inviting or more dangerous.
‘That lift you offered.’ Her teeth were chattering and it had nothing to do with the temperature. Despite the pelting rain, the night was still warm, the shiver running through her having everything to do with his eyes lazily drifting over her before finally deigning to meet hers. ‘If you still don’t mind…’ Still he stared, not saying anything, forcing her to ask him outright. ‘I’d love a lift home.’
‘Sure.’ With the tiniest motion of his head he gestured to the passenger side and Lily dashed around, her heart in her mouth as she opened the door and climbed in, feeling the soft leather on her damp legs, the warmth of his car stifling, the music too loud, his erotic scent stronger in the stuffy, luxurious confines, every sense bombarded with confusing messages as she momentarily entered the world of this intriguing man.
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