Have Baby, Need Beau. Rita Herron
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as you don’t forget how to have fun, too.”
“And you’re a connoisseur of a good time?”
Mimi shrugged. “No date has ever accused me of being boring.”
“And there have been lots of dates, I suppose.”
“Enough.”
Seth ran his gaze over her. “You’re right, Mimi, I doubt you’d ever be accused of being boring.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just that you seem to enjoy stirring up things.”
Mimi bristled. “Things?”
“Men.”
“Excuse me?”
“You know…” He gestured at her hips. “The way you walk.”
“What about the way I walk?”
“That little twitch thing you do with your hips. You kind of sway from side to side. And your legs…”
Mimi felt a smile coming on. The poor man was flustered. “You don’t like my legs, Seth?”
Seth chuckled sardonically. “My God, your legs could be considered lethal weapons. Especially when you wear those miniskirts at the coffee shop.”
“So you’ve noticed my skirts?”
“It’s hard not to. Every man in the place is staring at you. Why do you think the café does such successful business?”
Mimi laughed mischievously. She should save Seth from himself, but she was having too much fun. “I thought it was my ‘hot brownie delight.’”
SETH UNDID the top button of his shirt. Hot brownie delight—jeez. It was her hot little body every man in the place wanted. Didn’t she have any idea how appealing she was? He’d seen men order desserts just to finagle the chance to talk to her.
And how had their conversation turned to underwear and Mimi’s dynamite legs?
He was supposed to be comforting her, not making a fool of himself by acting like the other lust-struck men in the place. And there were plenty.
Mimi was Hannah’s little sister, and he felt compelled to protect her.
“Hey, Seth, they’re playing a great dance number.”
Her green eyes sparkled in challenge, a snappy Ricky Martin tune drifting through the speakers. “Wanna dance? No, let me guess, you don’t.”
He didn’t, but he’d be damned if he’d admit it. He reached for her hand and dragged her to the dance floor. “I told you I’m not always predictable.”
Mimi’s laughter was infectious and so were her moves. He tried to copy the sexy swaying of her hips and body, and found himself transfixed by the heat in her eyes. One button, then two, came undone on his jacket as he strove for air on the crowded dance floor. When the fast song ended, Faith Hill’s sexy voice purred out the slow tune “Breathe.” He took Mimi in his arms and they swayed together, her body pressed intimately into the hard planes of his, her breath whispering against his neck. His heart pounded as her breasts pressed against him.
Seth tried to stifle his body’s reaction, but that damned perfume of hers invaded his senses, turning his brain into a fuzzy mess, his body into a hard, aching ball of need.
They danced until the lights dimmed, until the music stopped, as if both of them were prolonging the evening, avoiding going to the room.
“I’m hungry,” Mimi said, her slender hand curled on his chest. “Let’s take some dessert and coffee to the room.”
He cupped the back of her neck with his hand, gently massaging the area. “Sounds good to me.”
She ordered a hot fudge sundae, along with strawberries and whipped cream, and he led her toward the elevator, the sounds of the staff’s voices echoing from the deserted bar behind them. Tension hummed through the dark hotel room as they entered. Rich oak furniture filled the space, plush carpeting blanketed the floors, a Jacuzzi in the corner drew his eye, and a single king-size bed draped in gold velvet loomed in the middle.
It would be a mistake to share that bed. Sleeping with Mimi was never in the plans. Not an option.
So why did he suddenly feel obsessed with the idea?
He drank his coffee, instead. He’d never thought eating especially sexual, just a routine necessary for life functions—until he watched Mimi devour the hot fudge sundae, licking the sauce from her luscious lips, making him itch to lick her mouth, too. Mimi’s eyes darkened with a raw hunger, the sort he’d never seen in Hannah’s eyes. Or in any woman’s eyes—not when they were looking at him.
“You don’t want your strawberries?” Mimi asked with a teasing smile.
He shrugged, the urge to tease her overriding his common sense. He didn’t want to be dull, predictable Seth anymore. “I want the whipped cream.”
She laughed, dipped her finger into the dessert and held it up. He saw the challenge in her eyes again. And something else.
Passion.
The excitement of a woman wanting a man. The realization they were stranded together in a romantic hotel in a blizzard, alone for the very first time. A man and woman who had just felt the contours of each other’s bodies, who had just shared a few comforting moments and a dance that had stirred wicked fantasies, who had an unexpected heat simmering between them.
Mimi was right—he was boring. Dull. Predictable.
He had never done anything impetuous. Or exciting.
But he wanted to now.
He wanted to do something wicked, naughty. Maybe shocking.
He flicked out his tongue, licked the whipped cream from her finger and saw her dress stretch taut across her breasts. The touch of her finger on his mouth taunted him, made him realize he wanted Mimi, wanted her so badly he could barely breathe. Wanted just once to taste her passion, to know what it felt like to delve into that sweet, tantalizing body and hold her through the night, to feel alive.
Disgusted with his white underwear and his pocket calendar and undershirts, he reached out and, for the first time in his life, took something off-limits, something for himself, something only for the moment.
He drew Mimi into his arms and kissed her.
Chapter Four
Mimi closed her eyes and threw caution to the wind as she sank into Seth’s strong arms. The taste of whipped cream, scotch and coffee mingled with the heady scent of passion, driving her into sweet oblivion. Why had she ever thought this man dull? Or predictable?
She’d certainly never imagined Seth would seduce her, especially with such hunger. He had a great ear for listening and it was even better for kissing, she thought, nibbling at his earlobe. And his hands…They found all the secret erogenous areas of her body—her neck, the sensitive spot behind her ear, the curve of her shoulder blade, the tips of her breasts—and he tormented her with gentle strokes that were so sensual she found herself groping for the buttons on his shirt. A small smattering of dark blond hair peeked from the opening, and his muscular arms enveloped her as he backed her toward the bed.
Seth was smart and handsome, a man to be admired, and he wanted her—Mimi Hartwell, the misfit kid who always seemed to screw up things, the girl without a degree or a fancy job title. Delicious sensations skated through her as she remembered his hard body swaying against hers when they’d danced. He’d held her as if she were a piece of fine china that might break, something to treasure and care for. So unlike the way Joey had held her or the way any other man had ever treated her.
With a groan that sent a shiver up her spine, he threaded his hand through her hair, drawing her closer so she could feel his arousal,