Transformed Into The Frenchman's Mistress / Bargained Into Her Boss's Bed. Barbara Dunlop
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skin.
“You can rebuild the château,” she told him.
“That’s three-hundred-year-old limestone on the floor.”
Her glance was drawn downward. “So, it must be pretty much indestructible,” she offered in a perky voice.
Alec couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m not going to harm your reputation,” he promised.
She gave a small nod. “Thank you.”
But then a camera flash went off below, and Alec quickly grasped her hand, tugging her through the open door behind them and swiftly closing it against the world.
“Reference shots for the crew back home,” she explained, a grin growing on her face. “But thanks for the effort.”
“I didn’t want to break my word within the first two minutes.”
Their hands were still joined as they stood next to the arched, oak-plank door of the third-floor library. Shelves were lined with leather volumes and heavy, green-velvet drapes were pulled aside with gold cording, letting a beam of morning sunshine stream through paned windows. The room was slightly dusky, cool, quiet and still.
Her small hand was soft under his, the skin of her palm warm, hinting at the texture of other regions of her body. He inhaled the clean floral scent of her shampoo. It reminded him of the lavender plants blowing softly in his country garden.
Everything about Charlotte was sweet and fresh, from her white flash of a smile, to the breezy, shoulderlength style of her blond hair. Her figure was lithe and streamlined. He’d watched her play tennis with Raine yesterday, and he knew she was in fabulous shape.
His thoughts trailed back to the way she’d looked by the pool. The aqua bikini had revealed a light, glowing tan. Her belly was flat, with the sexiest navel he’d ever seen. Her shoulders were kissable, and the curve of her breasts had invaded his dreams every night since.
“Alec?” Her voice was soft, in keeping with the atmosphere of the room.
He tugged gently on her hand, drawing her toward him. His gaze fixed on her full lips. “Tell me you haven’t been curious,” he whispered.
“I—” But then she stopped, her gaze fixed on his lips, apparently unable to lie but unwilling to be honest.
He smiled. “Me, too.”
“We can’t do this,” she warned.
“We’re not doing anything.”
“Oh, yes, we are.”
He tugged her closer still, so that she brushed up against him. “At the moment, we’re merely talking.”
“We’re talking about kissing.”
“Nothing wrong with kissing.”
“You got a camera in your pocket?”
“That’s not a camera.”
She scrunched her eyes shut. “I can’t believe you said that.”
“I can’t believe it shocked you.” He chuckled low. “You’re blushing.” For some reason, he found her reaction completely endearing.
“I’m embarrassed because the joke was so bad.”
“You’re embarrassed because you’re attracted to me and, for some reason, you think you should fight it.”
“Of course I should fight it.”
“Why?”
“You’re a playboy and a philanderer.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“You’ll destroy my reputation.”
“By kissing you in private? I’m flattered you think I have that kind of power.” He drew a breath and held her with a frank gaze. “Charlotte, kiss me, don’t kiss me. But at least be honest. Your reputation is in absolutely no danger at the moment.”
Her shoulders dropped. “You’re right,” she admitted.
But she didn’t make a move.
It was more than tempting to wrap his arms around her, dip his head and take her lips to his. But he held back. She was still jumpy, and the last thing he wanted to do was scare her off.
He wanted this kiss. Of course, he wanted more than just a kiss, but at least a kiss was heading in the right direction.
To his surprise, she placed a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s mere curiosity,” she warned.
A half smile crept out. “But of course.”
She pulled up on her toes. “I might not even like it.”
“You might not,” he agreed, holding himself still by sheer force of will.
This time, it was Charlotte who smiled. “Do many women not like kissing you?”
“I can’t recall any specific complaints. But I’ve sure never had one give it this much thought beforehand.”
“I’m a planner.”
“Evidently.”
They both sobered, staring at each other in silence.
“Oh, man.” Charlotte moaned a surrender, closing her eyes and stretching up toward him.
It was all the invitation Alec needed.
He immediately leaned in, parting his lips, pressing them to her heated mouth.
An explosion went off at the base of his brain, obliterating everything but the taste, scent and feel of Charlotte. He deepened the kiss, flattening her against the oak door, pressing his body flush against hers.
His hands cupped her face, caressing her skin while holding her in place as his tongue plundered shamelessly. She moaned, opened her mouth wider, and her arms wrapped around his waist. He pushed his thigh between her legs, lifting, bunching her short skirt, the fabric of his slacks meeting the satin of her panties.
His body flushed hot, tense, rigid with desire, and a freight train roared in his ears and the world contracted to the two of them.
“Charlotte?” came a faraway voice.
Raine.
Charlotte tensed, and Alec groaned, reluctantly taking his mouth from hers. He eased back, knowing they might have only seconds before Raine tried the door.
“Charlotte?” Raine repeated.
“Let go,” Charlotte whispered.
Alec took a step back, rasping deep breaths, trying vainly to put his raging hormones back under control.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Fine,” Charlotte shot back, smoothing her pleated, navy skirt and straightening the white, sleeveless blouse.
He reached out to fix her mussed hair, and she drew in a sharp breath. There was nothing he could do about the just-kissed puffiness of her mouth—except try like hell not to get turned on by it.
The doorknob rattled, and Charlotte jumped back. “Why are we in here?” she frantically whispered.
Alec drew open the door. “Raine?” He gazed at the quizzical expression on his sister’s face. “I’m glad it’s you,” he continued. “There was a photographer downstairs, and Charlotte got a little freaked out.” He gave Charlotte a teasing wink. “I told her there was nothing to worry about. Did you see anyone skulking around with a camera?”
Rained glanced at Charlotte, then back to Alec. “No.”
“Good,” he said heartily. “I’ll be in my office. Kiefer should be here in an hour or so. If you see him, could you have Henri