Read Online Outbid by the Boss by Stephanie Browning - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Stephanie Browning
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rosewood. Superb craftsmanship, don't you think?"
He was so close, Sam could feel the heat coursing through her veins.
She had goals and dreams and an agenda he mustn't know about; getting involved with Chas Porter was not an option. Not now. And not ever.
Despite the temptation.
And the nearness of his mouth as he bent his head towards her.
With a fierce will, she ducked under his arm.
A mixture of disappointment and relief rolled over her when he didn't press his suit. Yet neither of them made a move for the door.
Chas swung around to face her.
She stepped back, clasped her shawl with her left hand and steadied herself with her right, resting it on the curved back of a nearby chair. "You must be really tired," she said desperately, "after everything that happened today..."
"Do you mean the strain of your embezzlement or the destruction done to my car?" The chill had crept back into his voice, but Sam was determined to broach the subject. If she didn't, it would be hanging out there for them, not that she expected to be with Burton-Porter much longer.
"Actually," Sam said, "I wanted to say I was sorry if my behaviour didn’t seem entirely professional."
Her apology was met with several long moments of silence.
Sam gnawed her lower lip.
The next few words out of his mouth might very well determine her future.
"You do realize you'll have to make good those losses," said Chas. He moved into the light and she could see that his eyes weren't cold at all. In fact, he almost looked feverish. "On the other hand, you could just marry me."
"Marry you!"
Sam's jaw dropped.
And so did her shawl.
"You have got to be kidding."
Chas smiled. "I thought I was," he said raking her with his eyes, "but not anymore."
Sam instinctively raised her hand.
Chas grabbed her wrist, the firm warmth of his fingers gently holding her in his grasp. She should have pulled away. She could have, easily. But instead she stood there, gazing up at the face of the man who had fought with her, laughed at her and tormented her. Made her feel more alive than anyone she had ever met. His scent filled her nostrils. The gleam of his eyes dove into her very being. She should have run away. But instead she stepped closer.
His hands slid up her bare arms to the milky whiteness of her shoulders. She leaned into him, her palms pressed against his chest, feeling the rough fabric of his shirt and the hard muscles beneath. Then her arms reached up and wrapped themselves around his neck, just as his hands dropped down around her waist to pull her hard against him. Unconsciously, she lifted her face. For a moment her eyes slid over the strong line of his jaw, the high cheekbones and firm lips that made Chas Porter the handsomest man she had ever seen. Then he leaned down to meet her desire, at first gently, brushing her mouth tenderly with his lips and then as the heat rose and crackled between them, pressing his mouth demandingly against hers.
She moaned softly, opening her lips to invite him closer and he responded. His kiss became harder, more insistent. All of Sam’s senses swirled into that one perfect kiss. Clinging to him, wanting more and more, a small voice hidden deeply within her began to protest. Sam clung to Chas and then with a groan, wrenched herself away.
She grabbed up her discarded shawl and again wrapped it tightly around her.
Chas leaned against the cabinet and scrubbed a hand fiercely over his face. He forced a smile.
"Shall I take that as a yes or as a no?"
Using all her willpower, Sam straightened her shoulders. "Good night, Mr. Porter."
"Miss Redfern."
One last lingering look, and then she tore from the dining room.
She sped through the entrance hall over the icy flagstones, up the stairs and down the darkened corridor. It wasn't until the door to the guest room was well and truly closed behind her that she realized she hadn't actually said no.
Damn and blast the man.
No way she was going to marry him!
Not even if he was
He was so close, Sam could feel the heat coursing through her veins.
She had goals and dreams and an agenda he mustn't know about; getting involved with Chas Porter was not an option. Not now. And not ever.
Despite the temptation.
And the nearness of his mouth as he bent his head towards her.
With a fierce will, she ducked under his arm.
A mixture of disappointment and relief rolled over her when he didn't press his suit. Yet neither of them made a move for the door.
Chas swung around to face her.
She stepped back, clasped her shawl with her left hand and steadied herself with her right, resting it on the curved back of a nearby chair. "You must be really tired," she said desperately, "after everything that happened today..."
"Do you mean the strain of your embezzlement or the destruction done to my car?" The chill had crept back into his voice, but Sam was determined to broach the subject. If she didn't, it would be hanging out there for them, not that she expected to be with Burton-Porter much longer.
"Actually," Sam said, "I wanted to say I was sorry if my behaviour didn’t seem entirely professional."
Her apology was met with several long moments of silence.
Sam gnawed her lower lip.
The next few words out of his mouth might very well determine her future.
"You do realize you'll have to make good those losses," said Chas. He moved into the light and she could see that his eyes weren't cold at all. In fact, he almost looked feverish. "On the other hand, you could just marry me."
"Marry you!"
Sam's jaw dropped.
And so did her shawl.
"You have got to be kidding."
Chas smiled. "I thought I was," he said raking her with his eyes, "but not anymore."
Sam instinctively raised her hand.
Chas grabbed her wrist, the firm warmth of his fingers gently holding her in his grasp. She should have pulled away. She could have, easily. But instead she stood there, gazing up at the face of the man who had fought with her, laughed at her and tormented her. Made her feel more alive than anyone she had ever met. His scent filled her nostrils. The gleam of his eyes dove into her very being. She should have run away. But instead she stepped closer.
His hands slid up her bare arms to the milky whiteness of her shoulders. She leaned into him, her palms pressed against his chest, feeling the rough fabric of his shirt and the hard muscles beneath. Then her arms reached up and wrapped themselves around his neck, just as his hands dropped down around her waist to pull her hard against him. Unconsciously, she lifted her face. For a moment her eyes slid over the strong line of his jaw, the high cheekbones and firm lips that made Chas Porter the handsomest man she had ever seen. Then he leaned down to meet her desire, at first gently, brushing her mouth tenderly with his lips and then as the heat rose and crackled between them, pressing his mouth demandingly against hers.
She moaned softly, opening her lips to invite him closer and he responded. His kiss became harder, more insistent. All of Sam’s senses swirled into that one perfect kiss. Clinging to him, wanting more and more, a small voice hidden deeply within her began to protest. Sam clung to Chas and then with a groan, wrenched herself away.
She grabbed up her discarded shawl and again wrapped it tightly around her.
Chas leaned against the cabinet and scrubbed a hand fiercely over his face. He forced a smile.
"Shall I take that as a yes or as a no?"
Using all her willpower, Sam straightened her shoulders. "Good night, Mr. Porter."
"Miss Redfern."
One last lingering look, and then she tore from the dining room.
She sped through the entrance hall over the icy flagstones, up the stairs and down the darkened corridor. It wasn't until the door to the guest room was well and truly closed behind her that she realized she hadn't actually said no.
Damn and blast the man.
No way she was going to marry him!
Not even if he was
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