Published On: June 23 2016
Series: Holy City Romance
Genres: Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Self Published Pages: 156
“But you’re hurt,” he said.
For a moment his warm hands fitted around my wrist. His thumbs traced over my skin for the space of a heartbeat. Could he feel how fast my heart was racing?
Then one of his hands moved slowly up my arm, and I glanced down.
Sure enough, there was blood all over my arm. Not only was I soaked with the spilled drinks, I had cuts on my arms too. I hadn’t noticed until now, but they burned with the vodka.
I looked up, my eyes drifting to his. I saw that sneaky grin of his again, tugging at the corner of his handsome mouth. Why was he smiling at me like that? I had the strangest impulse to kiss that smirk right off his face.
But blood was spreading on his chest.
“You’re hurt, too,” I said, stopping just short of touching him again.
He ran his hand carelessly through his hair, grinning at me. “We make quite a team,” he said.
“You should get back to the party,” I said. “I’m fine, really.”
“I will,” the stranger said, easily, taking my hand again. “But I can hardly leave you to fend for yourself like this, can I? My grandmother would roll over in her grave if she thought I’d abandoned a lady in distress.”
I reddened. “I’ve been fending for myself for quite a while now,” I said, trying to be nonchalant as we swung into the house. A curtain of heavy, air-conditioned silence instantly drew over us, and I lowered my voice in spite of myself, taking in all the fancy antiques, the deep plush of the rugs.
Then I realized his hand still rested lightly at the small of my back. Possessively. Awareness of his touch burned through me like a torch.
“You don’t like it when people help you, do you?” he said.
“Not particularly,” I said.
Then he was behind me, so close I could feel the heat of his body through my clothes. He smelled like lemons and cedar, and something else I couldn’t name. Something old, something powerful. Sex.
I felt nerves all over my body sharpen and dance to the surface. I went blurry with desire.
I wanted him away from me, now. This was crazy!
“Well, I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you looked like you could use a little help, pretty,” he said. He got that playful look in his eyes again. “You think vodka absorbs through the skin? I feel a little buzzed.”
“That’s the adrenaline,” I said.
“My heart is beating pretty fast,” he said, grinning as he held open the door to the bathroom. I slipped in and he stood in the doorway, still holding the door.
Still watching me.
What would it feel like to have him press against me? His full length, the sensuous hardness of him. And his gorgeously full, sullen mouth in the mirror- I could see it just above my shoulder- how would that taste?
I’d never had these kinds of thoughts before. The masterpiece of my life was having learned how to glass myself inward, burying my heart so deep that I didn’t even know where it was buried…