up.
“Wha—”
His lips were on hers.
She gasped, which was strange since his mouth was in the way.
But then the relentless way he coaxed her stole her attention. She put her hands on his chest, bracing herself, as she got up on her tiptoes to get closer. His arm anchored her around her back, so she was pressed against the full length of him.
She liked it. She hummed in pleasure and wound her arms around his neck, liking the slow focused way he ate at her mouth. It was like she was a treat and he couldn’t get enough.
He lifted his head on a deep exhale. “Aren’t you full of surprises?”
“Am I?”
“Yeah, I’d say you are.”
She smiled. “I like that.”
Stepping back, he resettled his hat on his head. “I can see you’re going to be trouble, too.”
She liked that even more. She smiled wider, and then she laughed, feeling good for the first time in—
Well, a really long time.
Chapter Nine
The kiss wouldn’t stop chasing him. Days later, Jack could still taste her sweetness and feel the press of her lips against his.
He stared, unseeing, at the report in front of him. It was the preliminaries on the water clarifying system and a test case in New Mexico, and he’d been anxiously waiting to see if his hypotheses on the effectiveness of the water treatment were founded. Only he couldn’t get past the first page, because all he could think about was Lady Portia Summerhill’s seductive lips.
Ridiculous—or marvelous, depending on the time of day.
The assistant he’d been assigned buzzed through the intercom. “Mr. Waite, your father is on line one.”
He considered pretending not to know how to use the phone system, but it was only a matter of time before his dad would find a way to him, so he bit the bullet and picked up the line. “Dad, isn’t it in the middle of the night in Texas?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” his father muttered. “Damn vegetables your mama made me eat for dinner gave me indigestion.”
“So you thought you’d call and take out your foul temper on me?” Jack said with enough humor to rile his father up.
“I’m not in a damn foul temper,” Hiram bellowed over the line. “A man doesn’t need a reason to call his only son, especially when the son is in dire straits.”
“I didn’t realize I was that bad off.”
“Damn skippy, you are. In truth, you’re probably the reason my gut’s all tied up. It’s one of those psychic link things parents have with their children.”
Jack had never heard of any such phenomena, but he was willing to humor the old man. “What’s your sixth sense saying?”
“That you’re floundering over there in England.”
Not too far off the truth, though he knew his dad meant because of the resort project and not Portia Summerhill. “The project is getting back on track. I sent you an update. Meredith has a plan for completing the interior design, and Quinn has everyone trembling in fear of his wrath. It’s a bit delayed still, but it should come in closer to the original date of completion.”
“Something’s wrong,” Hiram insisted. “You don’t sound right.”
Because he had a severe case of lust for a prissy British woman who wore saloon-girl underwear.
“Does this have to do with that girl you hired?” his father asked.
Jack blinked. Maybe the old man did have a psychic connection. “What do you know about her?”
“That she’s working on organizing the crap they carted out of Suncrest Park.”
Jack didn’t need to ask who told him that. “What else did Quinn tell you?”
“That the girl has long legs.”
He groaned. “I don’t have a weakness for long legs despite what you all think.”
“The hell you don’t, son. You take after me. One look at your mama’s legs and I was done for life.”
He put a hand over his eyes. “I don’t need to think about Mama’s legs.”
“Because you have enough on your mind with this new girl’s legs,” his father declared. Then he lowered his voice and
“Wha—”
His lips were on hers.
She gasped, which was strange since his mouth was in the way.
But then the relentless way he coaxed her stole her attention. She put her hands on his chest, bracing herself, as she got up on her tiptoes to get closer. His arm anchored her around her back, so she was pressed against the full length of him.
She liked it. She hummed in pleasure and wound her arms around his neck, liking the slow focused way he ate at her mouth. It was like she was a treat and he couldn’t get enough.
He lifted his head on a deep exhale. “Aren’t you full of surprises?”
“Am I?”
“Yeah, I’d say you are.”
She smiled. “I like that.”
Stepping back, he resettled his hat on his head. “I can see you’re going to be trouble, too.”
She liked that even more. She smiled wider, and then she laughed, feeling good for the first time in—
Well, a really long time.
Chapter Nine
The kiss wouldn’t stop chasing him. Days later, Jack could still taste her sweetness and feel the press of her lips against his.
He stared, unseeing, at the report in front of him. It was the preliminaries on the water clarifying system and a test case in New Mexico, and he’d been anxiously waiting to see if his hypotheses on the effectiveness of the water treatment were founded. Only he couldn’t get past the first page, because all he could think about was Lady Portia Summerhill’s seductive lips.
Ridiculous—or marvelous, depending on the time of day.
The assistant he’d been assigned buzzed through the intercom. “Mr. Waite, your father is on line one.”
He considered pretending not to know how to use the phone system, but it was only a matter of time before his dad would find a way to him, so he bit the bullet and picked up the line. “Dad, isn’t it in the middle of the night in Texas?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” his father muttered. “Damn vegetables your mama made me eat for dinner gave me indigestion.”
“So you thought you’d call and take out your foul temper on me?” Jack said with enough humor to rile his father up.
“I’m not in a damn foul temper,” Hiram bellowed over the line. “A man doesn’t need a reason to call his only son, especially when the son is in dire straits.”
“I didn’t realize I was that bad off.”
“Damn skippy, you are. In truth, you’re probably the reason my gut’s all tied up. It’s one of those psychic link things parents have with their children.”
Jack had never heard of any such phenomena, but he was willing to humor the old man. “What’s your sixth sense saying?”
“That you’re floundering over there in England.”
Not too far off the truth, though he knew his dad meant because of the resort project and not Portia Summerhill. “The project is getting back on track. I sent you an update. Meredith has a plan for completing the interior design, and Quinn has everyone trembling in fear of his wrath. It’s a bit delayed still, but it should come in closer to the original date of completion.”
“Something’s wrong,” Hiram insisted. “You don’t sound right.”
Because he had a severe case of lust for a prissy British woman who wore saloon-girl underwear.
“Does this have to do with that girl you hired?” his father asked.
Jack blinked. Maybe the old man did have a psychic connection. “What do you know about her?”
“That she’s working on organizing the crap they carted out of Suncrest Park.”
Jack didn’t need to ask who told him that. “What else did Quinn tell you?”
“That the girl has long legs.”
He groaned. “I don’t have a weakness for long legs despite what you all think.”
“The hell you don’t, son. You take after me. One look at your mama’s legs and I was done for life.”
He put a hand over his eyes. “I don’t need to think about Mama’s legs.”
“Because you have enough on your mind with this new girl’s legs,” his father declared. Then he lowered his voice and
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