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Authors: Christie Ridgway
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rest of her was still humming in reaction to the warm, sexy resilience of another man and the pulse-jittering thrill of his kiss?
Noah gave Marlys plenty of time to clear the premises before heading back across the pool. The general’s daughter didn’t take rejection well, even though he’d been as tactful as he could in rebuffing the feelers she’d sent out when they’d first met.
She was beautiful in a petite, devilish sort of way, but Noah hadn’t been moved by either her lures or her ensuing vitriol when he’d turned his back on her. Marlys was a powder keg and he was careful to keep any sparks away from her.
Even the sparks that had been generated by Juliet’s body against his. By his mouth to hers.
The memory caused his pace to quicken as he skirted the pool. That kiss wasn’t something he could ignore. He was going to confront Juliet . . . and then follow her lead. Through the kitchen windows, he could see her figure, back turned toward him, and his hands curled inside his pockets.
God knows, it was going to be hard to let her direct their what-came-next discussion. He’d gone back to the guesthouse with her high-class scent on his hands and the taste of her hot mouth in his. Hell, she’d sucked on his tongue! The memory of that was enough to have him going hard again as his libido geared up for a second round.
But blowing out a breath, he forced himself to slow his stride and rein in his sex drive. Yeah, he was a man trained for action, but Juliet deserved more from him than his thuggish sexual impulses. She’d seemed to enjoy herself—hell, he thought all over again, she’d sucked on his tongue!—but she was still the officer’s wife, the officer’s widow , and he was still the enlisted guy she’d hired to live across the pool.
He shouldn’t presume that anything more would come of this—but he couldn’t ignore it either. He had to find out what she was thinking about their kiss.
So he rapped on the French door, then opened it, pausing at the threshold to take in the sight of the sleek fall of fine hair draped against her elegant back. It was a straight swathe the color of the caramel used to cover autumn apples. Today she was in a matching caramel shirt and plain jeans.
“Juliet?” he said softly, even as his inner gangster itched to take what he wanted. His hands would close over her shoulders and spin her to face him so that he could plunder her mouth all over again. From there he’d touch, he’d kiss, he’d taste everything. He could see it all in his head, but he didn’t stir a muscle to make it happen.
His body tensed as she remained frozen in place. His voice roughened. “Juliet?”
She didn’t turn, just talked, and in a decidedly—deceptively?—cheerful tone. “I heard from Cassandra. She and Nikki can make dinner tomorrow night. Nikki’s bringing along her fiancé, Jay, and Cassandra asked if she could tell Gabe—that’s the wallpaper guy—that I wanted him to join us as well. That way she can ensure he eats. Apparently she sees herself as his nutrition guru.”
“Ah.” He didn’t know what else his response should be.
“I thought maybe you’d like to come as well.”
As Juliet’s date? “Sure.” Confidence surging, he took a step toward her—
“It will even out the numbers.”
—and then halted his forward movement. Shit, there he was again, unsure of himself, and hating every moment of the uncharacteristic hesitance.
So stymied about his next move, he was still standing halfway between the door and Juliet when she at last turned to face him. The jewel-brightness of her blue and green eyes hit him like a one-two punch in the gut. His palm over his heart, he inhaled a hard breath, and then realized his pose mimicked hers. Except her hand was used to hold an open book against her body. General Matters by General Wayne L. Weston.
Noah’s gaze flicked to the cardboard box behind her. So that was what had brought Marlys to Malibu. Irritating
Noah gave Marlys plenty of time to clear the premises before heading back across the pool. The general’s daughter didn’t take rejection well, even though he’d been as tactful as he could in rebuffing the feelers she’d sent out when they’d first met.
She was beautiful in a petite, devilish sort of way, but Noah hadn’t been moved by either her lures or her ensuing vitriol when he’d turned his back on her. Marlys was a powder keg and he was careful to keep any sparks away from her.
Even the sparks that had been generated by Juliet’s body against his. By his mouth to hers.
The memory caused his pace to quicken as he skirted the pool. That kiss wasn’t something he could ignore. He was going to confront Juliet . . . and then follow her lead. Through the kitchen windows, he could see her figure, back turned toward him, and his hands curled inside his pockets.
God knows, it was going to be hard to let her direct their what-came-next discussion. He’d gone back to the guesthouse with her high-class scent on his hands and the taste of her hot mouth in his. Hell, she’d sucked on his tongue! The memory of that was enough to have him going hard again as his libido geared up for a second round.
But blowing out a breath, he forced himself to slow his stride and rein in his sex drive. Yeah, he was a man trained for action, but Juliet deserved more from him than his thuggish sexual impulses. She’d seemed to enjoy herself—hell, he thought all over again, she’d sucked on his tongue!—but she was still the officer’s wife, the officer’s widow , and he was still the enlisted guy she’d hired to live across the pool.
He shouldn’t presume that anything more would come of this—but he couldn’t ignore it either. He had to find out what she was thinking about their kiss.
So he rapped on the French door, then opened it, pausing at the threshold to take in the sight of the sleek fall of fine hair draped against her elegant back. It was a straight swathe the color of the caramel used to cover autumn apples. Today she was in a matching caramel shirt and plain jeans.
“Juliet?” he said softly, even as his inner gangster itched to take what he wanted. His hands would close over her shoulders and spin her to face him so that he could plunder her mouth all over again. From there he’d touch, he’d kiss, he’d taste everything. He could see it all in his head, but he didn’t stir a muscle to make it happen.
His body tensed as she remained frozen in place. His voice roughened. “Juliet?”
She didn’t turn, just talked, and in a decidedly—deceptively?—cheerful tone. “I heard from Cassandra. She and Nikki can make dinner tomorrow night. Nikki’s bringing along her fiancé, Jay, and Cassandra asked if she could tell Gabe—that’s the wallpaper guy—that I wanted him to join us as well. That way she can ensure he eats. Apparently she sees herself as his nutrition guru.”
“Ah.” He didn’t know what else his response should be.
“I thought maybe you’d like to come as well.”
As Juliet’s date? “Sure.” Confidence surging, he took a step toward her—
“It will even out the numbers.”
—and then halted his forward movement. Shit, there he was again, unsure of himself, and hating every moment of the uncharacteristic hesitance.
So stymied about his next move, he was still standing halfway between the door and Juliet when she at last turned to face him. The jewel-brightness of her blue and green eyes hit him like a one-two punch in the gut. His palm over his heart, he inhaled a hard breath, and then realized his pose mimicked hers. Except her hand was used to hold an open book against her body. General Matters by General Wayne L. Weston.
Noah’s gaze flicked to the cardboard box behind her. So that was what had brought Marlys to Malibu. Irritating
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