you be the last.”
“Taylor’s hot. The trip’s well worth the money.”
“My sister’s an excellent guide. If you listen to her and don’t spit in Mother Nature’s eye, you’ll have the adventure of a lifetime.”
“Why don’t you come along?”
To her surprise, Sloan leaned across the counter, fingering a tendril of hair that had escaped her French braid. Calloused skin brushed against her neck, and she flinched, her breath catching on the way out as he tucked the loose strand behind her ear.
Intimate and dangerous.
His gaze lingered on her lips, and she licked them self-consciously. The man made her nervous.
With a light tug on her braid, he stated, “I’ve always wanted to do sisters.”
“Taylor and I don’t share men.” A split second of vulnerability and he’d played her. She slapped his hand away.
Sloan McCaffrey knew that if he smiled, Eve Hannah would rip him a new one. The lady was a ballbuster. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to tick her off, but from the onset, she’d been cool and sarcastic. He hadn’t been able to warm her up.
Teasing her had seemed fun, for him anyway. Yet she hadn’t cracked a smile. Not even a twitch of her lips.
He figured Eve needed sex. Most women this uptight could use a quick slam-bam, just to relieve the tension. She was pretty enough, but her attitude sucked. As she stood before the computer, her posture was protective, as if she were defending herself against the world.
A man dedicated to foreplay and follow-through, he’d like nothing more than to unwind that tight-ass braid and watch the dark blond strands tickle low on her spine. He’d like to bite her lip, suck her sharp tongue into his mouth, tangle with her until she went soft and pliant.
She’d fight him.
And he’d win.
One dusk-to-dawn with her, and—
“I thought you’d be closed by now.” Taylor Hannah’s appearance took Sloan by surprise. “It’s dark in here.”
“We’re supposed to be closed.” Eve looked pointedly at Sloan. “Last-minute customer.”
Sloan ignored Eve’s jab. Taylor took his breath away in her red tank dress and turquoise-jeweled sandals. He loved tanned, toned women with the strength to crack a walnut with their thighs. Taylor was a nutcracker—of that he was certain.
Eve looked up and smiled at her sister.
Metal flashed, and Sloan blinked. Eve had braces. He wouldn’t have known she even had teeth had Taylor not shown up. Eve didn’t smile nearly enough. She had a soft, single dimple and a sweet curve to her mouth, surprisingly nice.
“I’ve signed Sloan McCaffrey for La Grave,” he heard Eve say. “He’s willing to risk life and limb to challenge the mountain.”
“My kind of guy.” Taylor’s approval came with a wink and a handshake. “There’s no better place to play with the elements than the Alps. You’re so high on the mountain you almost brush against the clouds and can nearly kiss the sky.”
“Thin air and altitude can make you both tired and drunk, if you’re not careful.” This from Eve.
Damn, Eve was a downer. Taylor, a wet dream. Shaking Taylor’s hand, he waited for the static zing he’d felt with Eve, yet got nothing beyond her soft, dry palm. Shit fire.
Cutting his gaze to Eve, he caught her once again watching him with her snippy disapproval. The woman needed a man to back her against a brick wall, lift her flowing white skirt, and rock her hips into tomorrow.
Turning back toward the friendly sister, he asked, “Any chance we could hook up before La Grave?”
Taylor slowly shook her head. “Sorry, no time. I’m bound for Africa on Monday. Desert hiking in the Sahara. I have weekly trips scheduled for the rest of the year. I won’t be returning to Richmond until Thanksgiving.”
That news sucked. “How’s your knee?”
Taylor hesitated. “I’m holding my own.”
Barely holding her own. Sloan caught the ACE bandage that wrapped her knee as she stepped around the counter. She walked with her
“Taylor’s hot. The trip’s well worth the money.”
“My sister’s an excellent guide. If you listen to her and don’t spit in Mother Nature’s eye, you’ll have the adventure of a lifetime.”
“Why don’t you come along?”
To her surprise, Sloan leaned across the counter, fingering a tendril of hair that had escaped her French braid. Calloused skin brushed against her neck, and she flinched, her breath catching on the way out as he tucked the loose strand behind her ear.
Intimate and dangerous.
His gaze lingered on her lips, and she licked them self-consciously. The man made her nervous.
With a light tug on her braid, he stated, “I’ve always wanted to do sisters.”
“Taylor and I don’t share men.” A split second of vulnerability and he’d played her. She slapped his hand away.
Sloan McCaffrey knew that if he smiled, Eve Hannah would rip him a new one. The lady was a ballbuster. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to tick her off, but from the onset, she’d been cool and sarcastic. He hadn’t been able to warm her up.
Teasing her had seemed fun, for him anyway. Yet she hadn’t cracked a smile. Not even a twitch of her lips.
He figured Eve needed sex. Most women this uptight could use a quick slam-bam, just to relieve the tension. She was pretty enough, but her attitude sucked. As she stood before the computer, her posture was protective, as if she were defending herself against the world.
A man dedicated to foreplay and follow-through, he’d like nothing more than to unwind that tight-ass braid and watch the dark blond strands tickle low on her spine. He’d like to bite her lip, suck her sharp tongue into his mouth, tangle with her until she went soft and pliant.
She’d fight him.
And he’d win.
One dusk-to-dawn with her, and—
“I thought you’d be closed by now.” Taylor Hannah’s appearance took Sloan by surprise. “It’s dark in here.”
“We’re supposed to be closed.” Eve looked pointedly at Sloan. “Last-minute customer.”
Sloan ignored Eve’s jab. Taylor took his breath away in her red tank dress and turquoise-jeweled sandals. He loved tanned, toned women with the strength to crack a walnut with their thighs. Taylor was a nutcracker—of that he was certain.
Eve looked up and smiled at her sister.
Metal flashed, and Sloan blinked. Eve had braces. He wouldn’t have known she even had teeth had Taylor not shown up. Eve didn’t smile nearly enough. She had a soft, single dimple and a sweet curve to her mouth, surprisingly nice.
“I’ve signed Sloan McCaffrey for La Grave,” he heard Eve say. “He’s willing to risk life and limb to challenge the mountain.”
“My kind of guy.” Taylor’s approval came with a wink and a handshake. “There’s no better place to play with the elements than the Alps. You’re so high on the mountain you almost brush against the clouds and can nearly kiss the sky.”
“Thin air and altitude can make you both tired and drunk, if you’re not careful.” This from Eve.
Damn, Eve was a downer. Taylor, a wet dream. Shaking Taylor’s hand, he waited for the static zing he’d felt with Eve, yet got nothing beyond her soft, dry palm. Shit fire.
Cutting his gaze to Eve, he caught her once again watching him with her snippy disapproval. The woman needed a man to back her against a brick wall, lift her flowing white skirt, and rock her hips into tomorrow.
Turning back toward the friendly sister, he asked, “Any chance we could hook up before La Grave?”
Taylor slowly shook her head. “Sorry, no time. I’m bound for Africa on Monday. Desert hiking in the Sahara. I have weekly trips scheduled for the rest of the year. I won’t be returning to Richmond until Thanksgiving.”
That news sucked. “How’s your knee?”
Taylor hesitated. “I’m holding my own.”
Barely holding her own. Sloan caught the ACE bandage that wrapped her knee as she stepped around the counter. She walked with her
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