Nowhere To Hide (Mills & Boon Love Inspired)
I nod, reaching down and putting a hand in the small of her back.
Gemma and Lucy are both in my head now—a fascinating occurrence. A new occurrence. Are they ganging up on me? Would they even like each other? Lucy was so soft and sweet. She looked at me like I was her saviour and I suppose I was.
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I ripped her out of her old life, away from a boyfriend who used her as a punching bag, and I made all her dreams come true. But fate is a bastard of a thing, and it only had bad news in store for Lucy. For a while she managed to jump tracks and sit on a different train, and then—bam. It took her.
Gemma is nothing like her. She is smart—smarter than me by a mile—and focussed in a way that is completely familiar to me. She is also sexy. It makes me want her more. Want to show her for the liar she is. There is nothing beyond a polite acknowledgement of her existence. That iciness is there. I want to push Gemma backwards against the wall and kiss the hell out of her. Right here. Gemma shifts her attention to her phone. She runs that iPhone as though she designed the thing. Her complacency pisses me off.
The talk can be brief. Just an outline of what the foundation is hoping to achieve, thanking the commercial partners, yada-yada-yada.
Out Of Hiding - Rachel Dylan - Google книги
Of course Jack nails the speech. Not so much as a hair on his head looks out of place. The tuxedo is immaculate. The white shirt crisp. The bow tie in place as though glued. He speaks eloquently about the foundation and he also speaks with humour, so the crowd laughs. His face is serious, and that makes me smile.
Because Wolf is pretty much always serious. It flashes inside my mind. I am suffocating at the very idea of being a bride in white, having Wolf waiting for me at the end of an aisle. He would definitely want children, too. Three of them. Maybe I could be like Marissa Mayer and have a nursery built into my office? The nanny could be based there, so I could still be one of those hands-on Pinterest-type mummies. But Jack would. But Wolf has caught me watching him and his heart is so on his sleeve he might as well be a cartoon character, with one of those thought bubbles popping out of his head.
I have to let this opportunity pass me by. He shifts his body infinitesimally, but enough to spark something low in my abdomen.
He knows that—I know that. Every bone in my body wants him, but my brain is still in charge. I love Jack. Not in that way. I mean I love working with him. How stupid would it be to rock the boat?
I use my most businesslike tone. You might not like what I say. Wolf is handsome, but in a very neat and tidy kind of way.
Read an extract: Off Limits by Clare Connelly
The question catches me completely off guard. No, not slept with. His eyes are probing mine now, and I feel like every single one of my fantasies, my dirtiest, hottest dreams, are playing out between us like a kinky Pensieve for his pleasure. My stomach turns. I am used to this feeling with Jack. But now? I smile blandly. I jerk my face towards his, the breath exploding out of me. No more than an accidental brush of fingers from time to time.
We are surrounded and yet we are alone. There is a void that engulfs us. Like a sensual electric fence. His body is tight. Just as it is in all my fantasies.
It takes every single ounce of my willpower to close my mouth and let my breath return to normal. His eyes flare. I meant it to put him back on his guard, to remind him of the boundaries of our relationship, but I might as well have struck a match over gasoline. Does he expect me to say no?