The Ransomes: Matt, Nick and Katherine. Sara Orwig
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long legs. He groaned and walked faster, suspecting he should go work out and burn some energy. A whole evening with Olivia was going to be hellish temptation.
“Matt—”
He turned as she opened her door and stepped into the hall. Her shirt was pulled out of her cutoffs and partially unbuttoned, the open V giving a tantalizing glimpse of heart-stopping curves and cleavage.
“I can’t get the hot water faucet to turn,” she said. “Is it broken or am I doing something wrong? I can’t imagine the plumbing breaking in this castle.”
“Oh, hell. Sorry, I forgot. I’ve intended to get that fixed. And the plumbing does break on occasion,” he added with amusement. “I’ll get a wrench. It won’t take more than a minute to repair it. Or you can move to any of the other occupied bedrooms.”
“I’ll wait if you don’t mind repairing it.”
He left to get pliers, a washer and a wrench and returned to her room, taking a deep breath before he went inside. She stood by the window, and he hoped she stayed out of the bathroom.
The scent of her perfume hung in the air and he tried to ignore it and think about water and pipes. As he leaned over the tub, working on the faucet, he swore because he hadn’t taken care of the plumbing before she arrived or remembered it and put her in a different bedroom.
In minutes the faucet functioned again, and he picked up his wrench and pliers. As he started out, she entered the room and they almost collided. Taking her arm, he steadied her. “Sorry, Olivia,” he said.
She looked up at him and again, he was ensnared in wide, thickly lashed green eyes. Desire rocked him and her eyes half-closed in a sultry expression that took his breath. He placed one hand on the doorjamb beside her and leaned closer. When she inhaled deeply, his gaze lowered and then returned to her full lips. Hemming her in, he could feel the heat from her voluptuous body, detect the come-hither fragrance she wore.
“We can find out now and get this out of the way between us,” he said softly, leaning closer.
Her eyelids drooped a fraction as she slanted him a sensual look that set his pulse pounding. He slipped his arm around her waist and heard her gasp. She was soft, warm, all curves. He took his time, giving her a chance to pull away or protest or whatever she wanted.
Instead, when she placed her hand on his forearm and gazed up at him with a hot look, his body responded. If he was damned for it, he was going to kiss her.
With a seductive look from her, he was hard, wanting her, wanting to plunder her swollen lips, to taste and explore and see what a storm he could stir in her. Never had he seen a woman who looked more ready for sex.
Somewhere in the depths of his being, he knew he was crossing a line, going against what he had sworn he would avoid. With the temptation of a Pandora’s box, he couldn’t resist even if he knew in his heart that he was opening himself up for unending trouble.
As he leaned closer, she tilted her head up. Her breath was sweet and she was soft in the curve of his arm. His mouth came down on hers, opening her lips, his tongue sliding inside her mouth. Hot and wet, his kiss demanded more. He wanted to discover her sexually and his kiss and his body pressing hers was the fiery beginning.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaned into him, molding her soft curves against him as she kissed him in return. Her tongue played over his, stroking and stirring his blinding need.
His rational thought had been lost back there when she first pressed against him. He tightened his arm around her, pulling her closer into his embrace, leaning over her and taking her searing kisses, letting go the pent-up longing he had controlled until now.
His pulse roared, drowning out other sounds, and he thought she would melt him with her scalding kisses. Why was she so different? he wondered. His heart thudded and he was in flames while below his belt he was rock-hard. He pulled her up tightly against him as his hand slid down her back and then trailed over the enticing curve of her bottom.
Her softness fanned the fire that consumed him. He ached to drown in her softness and unleash all her promised passion.
Grabbing a silky handful of her hair, he held her. When her hips twisted against him, he groaned.
Their kiss had escalated and spun out of control, seconds becoming minutes, time lost in need. She was too hot to handle, yet too desirable to release. Danger, danger ran through his thoughts, but he paid no heed. He never wanted to stop kissing her, kisses that were etched in his memory. Kisses that bound him to her in spite of all his reluctance.
Dimly, he became aware of her hands pressed on his chest, lightly pushing against him.
With an effort he opened his eyes, looking down at her to see her watching him. He released her and she stepped away, her gaze raking over him. “That was pure lust,” she whispered.
“There was nothing pure about the past few minutes,” he retorted, breathing heavily, seeing her gasp for breath as much as he did.
“I wasn’t going to do that,” she said, shooting him a torrid glance and then snapping her mouth closed.
“It’s not going to happen again,” he said, grinding out his words, hating his loss of control. His insides churned because emotionally, he hadn’t wanted to kiss her. Physically, he lusted to have her in his bed with her naked body against him. “I don’t think either one of us intended that kiss to happen, but it did and it seemed inevitable. Now it’s over and done and we can forget about it,” he said, wondering if he was trying to convince himself. In a lifetime, could he forget her kisses?
“That wasn’t what I intended,” she repeated in a low voice.
“There’s some chemistry that we both gave in to, but it doesn’t need to happen again.”
She gave him a level, direct look. “So you’re sorry you kissed me.”
“You know I’m not, but we’ll go back like we were.”
When she nodded and closed the door, he let out his breath and shook his head. Why had he kissed her? Every shred of common sense told him to keep his hands to himself.
Burning with desire, he stormed down the hall. The fire in her kisses had been even more than he had expected. And his thoughts seethed about her marriage proposal and the prenuptial agreement, because now he felt differently about her demands and expectations.
Their relationship had just changed. Whether she knew it yet or not, his feelings toward her had intensified. How easily she could wreck his peaceful life! His reaction to Olivia was lust. Lust and anger and he needed to keep tight control of both emotions. He promised himself he would never let down his guard with her again. After Margo he would never trust a woman. Margo had taken his heart and stomped it to a million pieces. He didn’t ever want to risk his heart with another woman.
He charged into his bedroom and slammed the door, crossing to his desk to open a drawer and once again get the prenuptial agreement from his marriage. Margo had made no demands on him. She had wanted out of the marriage and between her job and her family, she’d had all the money she could possibly want so there had been no problems there. The only problem had been that he had thought he was in love with her and he suspected she had only briefly been in love with him.
Looking at stipulations, he pored over the agreement some more and jotted notes while he wondered how many of his demands Olivia would accept.
Thinking about Olivia, he paused. She was honest, intelligent and shrewd. Had Jeff had a clue about what she was really like or had he simply seen her as a gorgeous, sexy woman?
Matt knew his brother well enough to know the answer to his question as swiftly as the question had risen—Jeff wouldn’t get beyond sex.
Matt dropped his pen. He did not want to marry Olivia and damned if he would! After the poverty she had lived in, he couldn’t imagine that she would walk away from the comfort and luxury he was offering.
While