Read Online License to Love by Barbara Boswell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Barbara Boswell
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leaning on Steve to keep her balance along the icy walk. His strength had kept her upright and afoot during the hazardous trek.
“So much for your shoes,” Steve said, staring at her soaked velvet pumps. Not that he could’ve carried her from the car; the force of the wind and depth of the snow would have prevented him from repeating his earlier chivalrous deed. And in the mood Michelle was in, she might’ve slugged him if he’d tried.
Michelle stamped her feet to shake the excess snow from them and Steve stared, riveted by the long, sleek length of her legs, so shapely and seductive in the sheer, smoky hose. He had to forcibly drag his gaze away.
“It’s so much worse since we left the restaurant,” Michelle murmured as she looked out the glass door at the awesome fury of the blizzard.
Steve followed her gaze. The storm showed no signs of abating. The winds were increasing to gale force and the snowfall was thicker and heavier than any he’d ever seen. “Damn, I really am stuck here for the night.” It would be a first for him—spending the night with a sexy, desirable woman who found him as appealing as infectious waste. He stifled a groan.
“Did you think you’d be able to charm Mother Nature into winding down the storm for you?” It was supposed to be a joke, but Michelle’s tone was more acerbic than she’d intended. The reality of the situation had just fully impacted on her. Steve Saraceni was going to spend the night in her apartment.
Steve frowned. “Can we call a truce in the hostilities?” He watched Michelle brush the snow from her coat. Her cheeks were cherry red, which had the effect of making her eyes an even deeper, brighter blue. Snowflakes glistened on her silky thick blond tresses. She was lovely, so fresh and classy. So elegantly sexy. Desire pierced him, and his body tightened. Impulsively he reached out and caught one golden lock between his fingers.
Michelle shot him a look and quickly moved away, out of his reach.
“There’s snow in your hair,” he said lamely. “I was only trying to brush it off.”
“It will melt, thank you,” Michelle said coolly. She started up the stairs.
Steve followed her. Why did she have to be so attractive? he silently lamented. Worse, why did he have to be so attracted to her? Her personality was certainly off-putting enough. She was prickly, cool, guarded and disapproving. Certainly nothing like the bouncy, cheerful, g i ggling girls he normally enjoyed in his leisure hours. They wouldn’t even know what the Communicable Disease Center was!
Michelle and Steve climbed to the second floor and walked past an elevator on the way to her door. “You prefer cold, drafty stairwells with steep steps to the convenience of an elevator?” he asked. “It figures!”
“That elevator is notoriously slow and it’s unreliable, too,” Michelle explained crisply. “Everybody who lives in the building avoids it whenever possible.”
She removed her key from her small purse.
“May I?” Steve askal smoothly, reaching for the key. He had long ago choreographed a sexy routine of unlocking the door with one hand while caressing his date with the other. The symbolism of the act heightened the anticipation and...
“I can do it,” Michelle said dampeningly. She opened the door, no assistance required.
The apartment was dark and chilly, and Michelle scurried about the living room, turning up the heat and switching on every lamp. “You can sleep on the sofa,” she told him, indicating the well-worn, rust-colored, U-shaped sofa. The cat was sprawled full-length in the middle of it.
“Terrific. A sectional sofa. Should be comfortable, particularly when the sections slide apart—which they invariably do when anyone lies down on them. But, hey, I’m not complaining. I’ll have the cat to keep me warm.”
Michelle fought to suppress a grin. Instinct warned her that laughing with him could be dangerous. Laughter dissolved barriers. It was far safer
“So much for your shoes,” Steve said, staring at her soaked velvet pumps. Not that he could’ve carried her from the car; the force of the wind and depth of the snow would have prevented him from repeating his earlier chivalrous deed. And in the mood Michelle was in, she might’ve slugged him if he’d tried.
Michelle stamped her feet to shake the excess snow from them and Steve stared, riveted by the long, sleek length of her legs, so shapely and seductive in the sheer, smoky hose. He had to forcibly drag his gaze away.
“It’s so much worse since we left the restaurant,” Michelle murmured as she looked out the glass door at the awesome fury of the blizzard.
Steve followed her gaze. The storm showed no signs of abating. The winds were increasing to gale force and the snowfall was thicker and heavier than any he’d ever seen. “Damn, I really am stuck here for the night.” It would be a first for him—spending the night with a sexy, desirable woman who found him as appealing as infectious waste. He stifled a groan.
“Did you think you’d be able to charm Mother Nature into winding down the storm for you?” It was supposed to be a joke, but Michelle’s tone was more acerbic than she’d intended. The reality of the situation had just fully impacted on her. Steve Saraceni was going to spend the night in her apartment.
Steve frowned. “Can we call a truce in the hostilities?” He watched Michelle brush the snow from her coat. Her cheeks were cherry red, which had the effect of making her eyes an even deeper, brighter blue. Snowflakes glistened on her silky thick blond tresses. She was lovely, so fresh and classy. So elegantly sexy. Desire pierced him, and his body tightened. Impulsively he reached out and caught one golden lock between his fingers.
Michelle shot him a look and quickly moved away, out of his reach.
“There’s snow in your hair,” he said lamely. “I was only trying to brush it off.”
“It will melt, thank you,” Michelle said coolly. She started up the stairs.
Steve followed her. Why did she have to be so attractive? he silently lamented. Worse, why did he have to be so attracted to her? Her personality was certainly off-putting enough. She was prickly, cool, guarded and disapproving. Certainly nothing like the bouncy, cheerful, g i ggling girls he normally enjoyed in his leisure hours. They wouldn’t even know what the Communicable Disease Center was!
Michelle and Steve climbed to the second floor and walked past an elevator on the way to her door. “You prefer cold, drafty stairwells with steep steps to the convenience of an elevator?” he asked. “It figures!”
“That elevator is notoriously slow and it’s unreliable, too,” Michelle explained crisply. “Everybody who lives in the building avoids it whenever possible.”
She removed her key from her small purse.
“May I?” Steve askal smoothly, reaching for the key. He had long ago choreographed a sexy routine of unlocking the door with one hand while caressing his date with the other. The symbolism of the act heightened the anticipation and...
“I can do it,” Michelle said dampeningly. She opened the door, no assistance required.
The apartment was dark and chilly, and Michelle scurried about the living room, turning up the heat and switching on every lamp. “You can sleep on the sofa,” she told him, indicating the well-worn, rust-colored, U-shaped sofa. The cat was sprawled full-length in the middle of it.
“Terrific. A sectional sofa. Should be comfortable, particularly when the sections slide apart—which they invariably do when anyone lies down on them. But, hey, I’m not complaining. I’ll have the cat to keep me warm.”
Michelle fought to suppress a grin. Instinct warned her that laughing with him could be dangerous. Laughter dissolved barriers. It was far safer
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