Read Online A Bravo Homecoming by Christine Rimmer - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Christine Rimmer
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all.
Suddenly she was not only big and strong and smart and capable, a loyal friend with a hell of a mouth on her.
Now she was…very much a woman. All woman. In-your-face, sexy-as-all-get-out woman. Six feet of knock-your-socks-off gorgeous. With those iridescent blue eyes of hers that tilted so temptingly at the corners, that body that was strong and broad-shouldered and muscular as ever, but sleek and smooth and dangerously exciting, too.
And the scent of her…
He nuzzled her velvety cheek, breathed her in. She didn’t smell like a tool pusher anymore.
She smelled of exotic flowers, of a tropical night, of spice and sweetness.
He couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t want to stop himself.
He touched his lips to hers.
Her mouth trembled slightly, and then went so soft and willing. Instantly, he was aching to go further, to guide her down to the bed, to lower those skinny black straps on that curve-hugging, eye-popping little black dress. He wanted to kiss her all over. And then, after that, to roll her under him and bury himself in her hot, strong sweetness, until she wrapped those long, hard, smooth legs around him and cried out his name as she came.
No.
He wasn’t going to do any such thing.
He’d already taken serious advantage of her when he talked her into posing as his bride-to-be. It was enough—too much. He had no right to try to get her in bed. That would be flat-out wrong. She deserved better than that.
He gently clasped her silky shoulders. She made a small, way-too-feminine sound of regret as he put her away from him.
Her eyes were full of light—and questions. She lifted a smooth hand, touched her lips where he had kissed her and she whispered his name on a sigh. “Travis…”
He caressed her short, silky hair, brushed it fondly with the backs of his fingers, thinking how he wanted to take her mouth again.
Promising himself he would do no such thing.
He said, “It’s late. We should get an early start tomorrow.”
She lowered her fingers from her lips. “You’re right.” And then she bent and scooped up those lacy black shoes. “Good night.”
He just stood there, staring, trying to deny how much he wanted to pull her close to him again.
A smile tugged at one corner of that beautiful mouth of hers and she whispered, “If you want me to go, you’ll have to move out of the way.”
He blinked as he realized he was blocking her path to the door. “Uh. Yeah. Right. Sorry.” He stepped aside.
And then he couldn’t resist turning to watch her leave. The black dress clung to every tight, perfect curve as she walked away from him, her hips swaying just enough to make him ache for what he was missing, those sexy black shoes of hers dangling from the fingers of her long, strong right hand.
How easy it would be to go after her, to grab her free hand, to haul her back to him, wrap his arms around her, kiss her again and again and again.
But he didn’t.
Somehow, he kept his head.
She turned when she reached the doorway to the sitting room. “See you tomorrow.” She quietly shut the door behind her.
He sank to the edge of the bed, wondering what he had gotten himself into.
Thinking he should call the whole thing off.
And knowing he would do no such thing.
In the morning, he was up at seven. He showered, dressed, packed up his overnight bag and was ready to go at seven-thirty. The drive to Bravo Ridge, outside San Antonio, would take more than three hours. He wanted to be on the way.
But he hesitated at the door to the sitting room, his hand on the doorknob, feeling edgy and way too aware of that brief, amazing kiss the night before. It annoyed the hell out of him, to be all nervous and unsure—about Sam, of all people.
Would she be up yet? Would he have to knock on the door to her room and tell her to get moving, they needed to head out?
And then how long would he have to wait for her to be dressed and ready? The Sam he’d always known could be ready for anything
Suddenly she was not only big and strong and smart and capable, a loyal friend with a hell of a mouth on her.
Now she was…very much a woman. All woman. In-your-face, sexy-as-all-get-out woman. Six feet of knock-your-socks-off gorgeous. With those iridescent blue eyes of hers that tilted so temptingly at the corners, that body that was strong and broad-shouldered and muscular as ever, but sleek and smooth and dangerously exciting, too.
And the scent of her…
He nuzzled her velvety cheek, breathed her in. She didn’t smell like a tool pusher anymore.
She smelled of exotic flowers, of a tropical night, of spice and sweetness.
He couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t want to stop himself.
He touched his lips to hers.
Her mouth trembled slightly, and then went so soft and willing. Instantly, he was aching to go further, to guide her down to the bed, to lower those skinny black straps on that curve-hugging, eye-popping little black dress. He wanted to kiss her all over. And then, after that, to roll her under him and bury himself in her hot, strong sweetness, until she wrapped those long, hard, smooth legs around him and cried out his name as she came.
No.
He wasn’t going to do any such thing.
He’d already taken serious advantage of her when he talked her into posing as his bride-to-be. It was enough—too much. He had no right to try to get her in bed. That would be flat-out wrong. She deserved better than that.
He gently clasped her silky shoulders. She made a small, way-too-feminine sound of regret as he put her away from him.
Her eyes were full of light—and questions. She lifted a smooth hand, touched her lips where he had kissed her and she whispered his name on a sigh. “Travis…”
He caressed her short, silky hair, brushed it fondly with the backs of his fingers, thinking how he wanted to take her mouth again.
Promising himself he would do no such thing.
He said, “It’s late. We should get an early start tomorrow.”
She lowered her fingers from her lips. “You’re right.” And then she bent and scooped up those lacy black shoes. “Good night.”
He just stood there, staring, trying to deny how much he wanted to pull her close to him again.
A smile tugged at one corner of that beautiful mouth of hers and she whispered, “If you want me to go, you’ll have to move out of the way.”
He blinked as he realized he was blocking her path to the door. “Uh. Yeah. Right. Sorry.” He stepped aside.
And then he couldn’t resist turning to watch her leave. The black dress clung to every tight, perfect curve as she walked away from him, her hips swaying just enough to make him ache for what he was missing, those sexy black shoes of hers dangling from the fingers of her long, strong right hand.
How easy it would be to go after her, to grab her free hand, to haul her back to him, wrap his arms around her, kiss her again and again and again.
But he didn’t.
Somehow, he kept his head.
She turned when she reached the doorway to the sitting room. “See you tomorrow.” She quietly shut the door behind her.
He sank to the edge of the bed, wondering what he had gotten himself into.
Thinking he should call the whole thing off.
And knowing he would do no such thing.
In the morning, he was up at seven. He showered, dressed, packed up his overnight bag and was ready to go at seven-thirty. The drive to Bravo Ridge, outside San Antonio, would take more than three hours. He wanted to be on the way.
But he hesitated at the door to the sitting room, his hand on the doorknob, feeling edgy and way too aware of that brief, amazing kiss the night before. It annoyed the hell out of him, to be all nervous and unsure—about Sam, of all people.
Would she be up yet? Would he have to knock on the door to her room and tell her to get moving, they needed to head out?
And then how long would he have to wait for her to be dressed and ready? The Sam he’d always known could be ready for anything
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