all.
I had a personal trainer to thank for the bod. A tanning booth and spa to thank for the skin. I couldn’t think of anything else I needed to give my double-fingered kiss-off to the happy couple. Except for him, of course.
As I stashed my tube of crimson-colored lipstick in my small clutch and grabbed my overnight tote, the doorbell rang. Crossing the hardwood floor carefully—I’d practiced wearing the shoes—I opened the door.
“Hey, you didn’t have to park the—” I stopped mid-sentence because his eyes bulged and his jaw dropped as he stared at me. My stomach coiled from both nervous anxiety and sexual tension. “Uh, what do you think?” I spread my arms wide then slowly turned so he could get the full effect.
He was speechless. Precisely the response I’d wanted. My apprehension eased a bit.
“Michael.” I playfully swatted at him with my clutch. “Say something.”
“Holy fucking shit.” He whistled.
I laughed. “Well, okay. I suppose that’ll do.”
“Jesus.” He reached a hand out and propped it against the doorframe, as though to steady himself. “Babe. You’re smokin’ hot.”
“Hardly the image of a scorned lover? Betrayed sister? Badgered daughter?”
“Hell, no.” He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me to him. “Son of a bitch,” he mused as one hand rested on the small of my back while the other one skimmed over my ass, giving it a squeeze. “Damn, you look good.”
“I guess so. You’re cussing like a sailor.”
“I feel like a sailor. One who’s been out to sea too long and in need of everything you have to offer.” He didn’t dare muss my hair or my makeup, but he did add, “Love the dress, but I still prefer you naked in my bed.”
“Later. Though…not too much later. I don’t intend to stay at the party long. Just need to show up so I can make my point that I’ve moved on. They deserve each other.”
He said, “I think this favor is taking a different turn. Hardly feels like you’re putting me out when you look this amazing.”
“Feel free to drool all over me in front of my family.”
“Bring on the bib.”
Extracting myself from his grasp, I said, “A bib would take away from your suit. You look quite handsome.”
I straightened his tie. In all actuality, he looked smokin’ hot. My toes curled in my peekaboos, and I felt tight and tingly all over. He wore a black suit and pewter-colored shirt with a matching silk tie. His dark brown hair dusted the collar at the nape of his neck, pushed back from his devastatingly handsome face. Very modern-day rake. Devilish, in fact. Definitely detrimental to a girl’s heart.
“I might be the one needing the bib,” I said.
“We’ll see who wants to leave the party first.”
“Hmph,” I mumbled. Likely me. And not because I was ready to escape my family. “Shall we get a move on?”
He took my tote, and I locked the door behind us before we headed down the stairs. Outside, his Porsche was parked at the curb. He held the door open for me as he gave me another appreciative once-over.
Shaking his head, he said, “It’s going to be hell keeping my hands off you.”
“No worries there. Have at it.”
“You’re really going for the gold, aren’t you?”
“Better believe it.”
He closed the door. I settled into the leather seat. I was still anxious over what I was about to do. Maybe I was a little off my rocker, but this was a prime opportunity to salvage my pride.
He climbed in next to me and started the car. “We should be fashionably late, as requested.”
I panicked a little over that decision, knowing my tardiness would grate on my mother’s nerves. Considering I was going to be wearing something completely over-the-top, arriving fifteen or twenty minutes late might push the envelope.
Too late to do anything about that now. I couldn’t turn back time and have him arrive earlier. I seriously had to shore up the defenses and jump into this idea with both feet. It really
I had a personal trainer to thank for the bod. A tanning booth and spa to thank for the skin. I couldn’t think of anything else I needed to give my double-fingered kiss-off to the happy couple. Except for him, of course.
As I stashed my tube of crimson-colored lipstick in my small clutch and grabbed my overnight tote, the doorbell rang. Crossing the hardwood floor carefully—I’d practiced wearing the shoes—I opened the door.
“Hey, you didn’t have to park the—” I stopped mid-sentence because his eyes bulged and his jaw dropped as he stared at me. My stomach coiled from both nervous anxiety and sexual tension. “Uh, what do you think?” I spread my arms wide then slowly turned so he could get the full effect.
He was speechless. Precisely the response I’d wanted. My apprehension eased a bit.
“Michael.” I playfully swatted at him with my clutch. “Say something.”
“Holy fucking shit.” He whistled.
I laughed. “Well, okay. I suppose that’ll do.”
“Jesus.” He reached a hand out and propped it against the doorframe, as though to steady himself. “Babe. You’re smokin’ hot.”
“Hardly the image of a scorned lover? Betrayed sister? Badgered daughter?”
“Hell, no.” He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me to him. “Son of a bitch,” he mused as one hand rested on the small of my back while the other one skimmed over my ass, giving it a squeeze. “Damn, you look good.”
“I guess so. You’re cussing like a sailor.”
“I feel like a sailor. One who’s been out to sea too long and in need of everything you have to offer.” He didn’t dare muss my hair or my makeup, but he did add, “Love the dress, but I still prefer you naked in my bed.”
“Later. Though…not too much later. I don’t intend to stay at the party long. Just need to show up so I can make my point that I’ve moved on. They deserve each other.”
He said, “I think this favor is taking a different turn. Hardly feels like you’re putting me out when you look this amazing.”
“Feel free to drool all over me in front of my family.”
“Bring on the bib.”
Extracting myself from his grasp, I said, “A bib would take away from your suit. You look quite handsome.”
I straightened his tie. In all actuality, he looked smokin’ hot. My toes curled in my peekaboos, and I felt tight and tingly all over. He wore a black suit and pewter-colored shirt with a matching silk tie. His dark brown hair dusted the collar at the nape of his neck, pushed back from his devastatingly handsome face. Very modern-day rake. Devilish, in fact. Definitely detrimental to a girl’s heart.
“I might be the one needing the bib,” I said.
“We’ll see who wants to leave the party first.”
“Hmph,” I mumbled. Likely me. And not because I was ready to escape my family. “Shall we get a move on?”
He took my tote, and I locked the door behind us before we headed down the stairs. Outside, his Porsche was parked at the curb. He held the door open for me as he gave me another appreciative once-over.
Shaking his head, he said, “It’s going to be hell keeping my hands off you.”
“No worries there. Have at it.”
“You’re really going for the gold, aren’t you?”
“Better believe it.”
He closed the door. I settled into the leather seat. I was still anxious over what I was about to do. Maybe I was a little off my rocker, but this was a prime opportunity to salvage my pride.
He climbed in next to me and started the car. “We should be fashionably late, as requested.”
I panicked a little over that decision, knowing my tardiness would grate on my mother’s nerves. Considering I was going to be wearing something completely over-the-top, arriving fifteen or twenty minutes late might push the envelope.
Too late to do anything about that now. I couldn’t turn back time and have him arrive earlier. I seriously had to shore up the defenses and jump into this idea with both feet. It really
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