Twins on the Way. Janice MaynardЧитать онлайн книгу.
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“I’ve missed you,” she whispered.
Arching her back, she pressed her body even closer to his. “I didn’t want to, but I did.”
Gavin nibbled a sensitive spot beneath her ear, making her squirm. “Why didn’t you want to miss me?”
“I had plans to take over the world. To be somebody. You were a temptation I had to resist.”
He knew the feeling.
Worse, now that he had tasted her again, he hadn’t a snowball’s chance in hell of pretending he didn’t want her. One look at her sweet face and mischievous eyes and he was a goner.
He thought of the babies in her womb … and their mother.
Cassidy Corelli troubled him. He was vulnerable where she was concerned. And vulnerability was the enemy of control.
If he was going to navigate these next few weeks, then he had to stay away from her. No touching, no kissing and certainly no sex. He would make that very clear.
Convincing Cassidy was one thing. Convincing himself was going to be a whole lot more difficult.
* * *
Twins on the Way is part of the Kavanaghs of Silver Glen series: In the mountains of North Carolina, one family discovers that wealth means nothing without love.
Twins on the Way
Janice Maynard
JANICE MAYNARD is a USA TODAY bestselling author who lives in beautiful east Tennessee with her husband. She holds a BA from Emory and Henry College and an MA from East Tennessee State University. In 2002 Janice left a fifteen-year career as an elementary school teacher to pursue writing full time. Now her first love is creating sexy, character-driven, contemporary romance stories.
Janice loves to travel and enjoys using those experiences as settings for books. Hearing from readers is one of the best perks of the job! Visit her website, www.janicemaynard.com, and follow her on Facebook and Twitter.
For Charles—
I enjoyed our Vegas/Zion trip. I’m not much of a gambler, but I won big when it came to you. :)
Contents
Gavin Kavanagh needed a woman. Badly. He wasn’t very good at relationships. He was too damn selfish, and he had trust issues. Which meant his only choices for sexual satisfaction were typically one-night stands. Since he was too fastidious to find much pleasure in that, he usually endured months of self-imposed celibacy until the day or the week he finally decided he couldn’t stand it anymore, and he cracked.
This time, what tipped him over the edge was being in Vegas. He’d pitched in at the last minute to help out a sick friend by giving an address to several thousand cybersecurity experts. Though public speaking didn’t bother him, he much preferred to be alone in his man cave back in North Carolina.
Winding his way past noisy slot machines and crowded gaming tables, he headed for the exit, desperate to inhale fresh air and see the sky. He’d been incarcerated in this over-the-top hotel since lunchtime, and it was now almost ten at night.
On the sidewalk, he paused, taking in the garish display of neon and traffic spread before him. Vegas. Land of opportunity and lost dreams. Home of wild bachelor parties, just-past-prime entertainers and the siren lure of the big win.
He could see the appeal. The outrageous city pulsed with an almost tangible energy. If New York was the city that never slept, then Las Vegas was its manic twin. With enough disposable income and plenty of unencumbered time, a man could entertain himself here indefinitely.
But not Gavin Kavanagh. He couldn’t wait to go home.
Good lord, Kavanagh. Bullshitting himself was a new low.
It wasn’t entirely a lie. He did want to go home. But there was something else he wanted more. The need writhing inside him was a voracious beast, reminding him that he was smack-dab in the land of legal hookers. For a few hundred bucks, the primeval urge to mate with a woman could be appeased.
He wasn’t going to do it. What kind of man had to pay for sex? Maybe one who was too much of a curmudgeon to play nice with a decent female? To compliment her dress and ask about her day?
If that was the cost of sex as normal people enjoyed, he was out of luck. Pressing his fingertips to his temples, he winced as a shard of pain lanced its way through his head. He’d been