The Millionaire's Christmas Wife. Susan CrosbyЧитать онлайн книгу.
that?”
“The attraction between us.”
Just the thought kick-started her heart into a powerful rhythm. “You have ideas?” she asked.
He moved a little closer. “As much as I’d like to say we should ignore it and see if it goes away, I’m more realistic than that. We have to pretend we’re married. That alone will require that we look comfortable together, that we seem intimate. It’s easy to recognize people who are lovers, because they move into each other’s space easily.”
His words added fuel to her already burning fire. “Are you suggesting we become lovers as part of this deal?”
His smile was slow and sexy. “I wouldn’t turn it down. But no, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying you shouldn’t take a step back when I get close.” He moved within touching range.
She stood her ground. “In public.”
He didn’t speak, but he picked up her left hand and kissed her palm, his thumb pressing into the ring.
“Have you always been a romantic?” she asked.
“Yes.” He kept her hand in his.
“You’re a rarity.”
“Am I?”
“Everyone is so straightforward these days. And self-focused. Dates are more like negotiations.”
“You haven’t met the right men, I think.” He pulled her into his arms and started dancing with her without music. “We fit. That can’t be ignored. I noticed it right away.”
“You didn’t call me this whole month.” She hadn’t meant to say that, as if she’d been waiting by the phone for his call. She’d actually stopped doing that after two weeks…
“Not because I didn’t want to see you, Mrs. Falcon.”
She wondered when—or if—she would stop reacting to him calling her that. “That makes no sense.”
“This project has consumed me and will continue to if I manage to find a partner. You wouldn’t like my lack of attention. It would kill any hope of a relationship.”
“You see me as high maintenance?”
He stopped dancing but didn’t let her go. “I see you as a beautiful woman who deserves someone’s complete attention.”
“I’m busy, too. Maybe I would be happy taking what I could get.”
He ran his fingers across her lips until she parted them, then he kissed her. “If that’s true,” he said, brushing his lips back and forth against hers, “you’ve got the chance now to test your theory.”
He settled his mouth on hers, wrapped his arms around her. She couldn’t stop a needy moan from escaping, which made him deepen the kiss even more. He slipped his tongue inside her mouth and moved his hands to her waist, sliding up her rib cage, his thumbs resting just under breasts. She moved against him, pressing her hips flush with his, enjoying his powerful body, the feel of his broad hands, the taste and heat of his mouth. She went up on tiptoe, wrapping her arms around his neck, wanting more. Now.
He nipped at her mouth then pulled away. “I’ll bet you’re very demanding in bed,” he said when she finally opened her eyes. He looked as aroused as she, as needy as she.
“Are you up to it?” she asked.
“What do you think?”
“My assistant decided you’d be a good kisser.”
“And what’s your opinion?”
“That you exceeded expectation.” She didn’t know why she was being so honest with him. Maybe she shouldn’t flatter him, shouldn’t let him know how much he turned her on. She’d just slipped into the role of his wife—his adoring wife—as if born to it.
“Same with you.” He moved back a little more. “It complicates things. I knew it would.”
“Honesty works for me, Gideon. I can handle anything but silence. I hate silence. Tell me the truth, whatever it is. Don’t ever make me guess.”
“Deal. Shall we get on the road?”
She put a hand on his arm. “Maybe we should talk about what I want out of this arrangement, in case you want to change your mind.”
“Okay.”
“I want credit,” she said. “And a piece of the action if I’m the one to find you a partner.”
He stared at her for a good long time. She’d made her decision. Nothing he said would sway her. She could be a part of his success, if he let her. She didn’t know how much give he had, or even if he would compromise. He might accept her input on the hotel, but on anything else? She didn’t know yet.
“You’ve got about an hour in the car to convince me,” he said, then gestured toward the door. “After you, Mrs. Falcon.”
She took that as a hopeful sign.
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