Read Online Prelude to a Wedding by Patricia McLinn - Free Book Online

to
hers.
    Her last thought, a flash, really, was how
like Paul Monroe it was to kiss her with a grin still molding his
lips. She felt the teasing joy in the gliding pressure of his skin
against hers.
    How different this was from the night before.
Then he'd drawn out the moment before their mouths met like an
extended question; now he swept into the first kiss, and a second,
without hesitation. Then he'd whispered a caress; now he stated it
boldly. She felt a sensation of warmth that came from one arm still
around her shoulder, and the other across her lower back, drawing
her to him and out of the lake's cooling night breeze. A sensation
of heat that came from the insistent sweep of his tongue against
her lips, edging her nearer to some elemental furnace.
    "Bette." She heard the faint request in his
voice, even as he muffled it against the skin of her cheek, jaw and
throat, and when his mouth came back to hers, she parted her lips.
Her hand rested high on his shoulder, so the tips of two fingers
grazed the skin at the side of his neck. The fingers of her other
hand wound in his hair where it topped his jacket collar. She
clenched them tighter, waiting.
    He took her top lip between his teeth, not
quite nipping, but seeming more to test. She sighed, and his tongue
lingered on her lips, finally slipping through slowly, exploring
thoroughly. She felt the glide of his tongue against the sharply
smooth ridge of her teeth and gave a small, smothered gasp of
impatience. Then he was done with teasing, meeting her tongue and
drawing it back into his mouth.
    She had the notion that her nerve endings had
retreated from her limbs and brain, leaving them weightless and
empty. But there seemed nerve endings to spare in other parts of
her body, the parts in contact with his, where the impression of
his flesh seemed to pass through layers of his clothes and hers,
and into her skin.
    He shifted, bringing her into closer
alignment with his body, so her breasts absorbed the firmness of
his chest. Pressing his arm against her hips, he settled her into
the narrow cradle created by his wider stance, and she recognized
the sensation of another male firmness.
    For an instant, an instant without
consequences, without responsibilities, she felt only a responsive
softening and warming.
    But she had spent too much of her life
following step after careful step toward a specific end not to know
that with such incendiary steps as these, one thing would most
definitely lead to another.
    She pulled away from his mouth with a gasp
that was partly driven by a need for oxygen and partly by
disappointment at the separation. A step backward got her nowhere
because his arms held her fast, and pushing her hands against his
chest got no results. For a breath, her mind acknowledged her
situation, alone on the beach with a man strong enough to hold her
against her will. But she didn't truly fear him. Perhaps she would
have if she hadn't realized that the deep, uneven breaths he pulled
in as he rested his cheek against her temple were his method of
regaining equilibrium.
    He's shaken, too, she thought. His reaction
steadied her, making her own responses seem less extreme. She was
also, at some level, grateful he hadn't let her go. She wasn't sure
she could have stood alone in those first seconds.
    When, with a last long breath, he loosened
his arms, she stepped clear of the heat. With quick, unconscious
movements, she straightened her jacket, twisted her blouse into
line, smoothed her skirt and ran her fingers through her hair. Only
when her hands moved to her lips, a reflexive reaction to the
burning sensation there, did she feel Paul watching her. His gaze
slanted at her from the side. She stopped her gesture
half-made.
    "I, uh—" She stopped to clear her throat, and
started again. "I think we'd better get back now."
    For a man so full of teasing words and easy
talk, he could be amazingly quiet. She couldn't even be sure if she
heard or imagined the half sigh before he