A Husband For Christmas by Jo Ann Algermissen

Author:Jo Ann Algermissen [Jo Ann Algermissen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781459267367
Publisher: Harlequin

6

“You make your decisions, Barbara. What you do or don’t do is not determined by what other Stone women did in the past” His grip tightened, pulling her closer in his embrace. “You aren’t your mother.”

She wanted to believe him. Maybe he could have convinced her, if only her heart had continued to beat steadily. It didn’t. A wild thing seemed trapped in her chest, fluttering, skipping beats, pumping adrenaline through her body.

She hated the feeling of slipping out of control. Humdrum, ho-hum suited her. And yet the rush of knowing Sam wanted to kiss her sent ripples of pleasure across her skin.

Unable to resist the compelling pull of this attraction, she gave him fair warning, “We’d be making a mistake.”

“Mistakes aren’t always failures. Minor changes can turn mistakes into success.”

Her hands inched up his bare arms, across his short sleeves and rested on his shoulders. Suddenly, unexpectedly, a calm settled inside of her. She yearned for him. She wanted to share the impossible dream with him. Why not heed the advice she’d given her mother?

Why not go for it?

Sam noticed the change and moved one hand to the pulse point beside her throat There was a stillness about her. Her serenity touched off sparks of flame inside him. Flames scorched the air between them, making it difficult for him to breathe. “I wanted you this morning, when we kissed. Right there. In the office. On the desk. The floor.”

“The bed.” His puzzled look made it easy for her to smile. His office furnishings lacked a bed. She crooked her smallest finger, linking herself to him. “Here. Upstairs.”

Wary of her effect on his plans to advance, retreat, advance, retreat, until she was so frustrated she’d beg him to marry her, his fingers tightened over her knuckles. Why was it that he was the one feeling confused, frustrated?

Was it time to change his master plan again?

His eyes bored into hers, sending a silent message, “You aren’t playing your bad-girl game, are you? The big turn-on before the final put-down?”

They’d been out of sync all day, but she read the anxiety in his eyes, heard his silent reproach loudly and clearly.

“It’s an illusion, Sam,” she answered softly. “One I created to ward off unwanted sexual advances.”

Mutely she turned, hooking his hand over her shoulder as she crossed the living area to the steps that led to her bedroom. Her hips swayed naturally, without their usual runway strut As she climbed each step she convinced herself that leading, not following, gave her some small element of being in command of her lust.

Eighteen steps later, Sam felt as though she’d taken him up the stairway to heaven. The earth tones she’d chosen to decorate the first floor of her condo evolved into the sky’s clearest blue. Beneath his feet, the plush, cream-colored carpet could have been puffs of clouds.

Her canopy bed dripped with heavy lace. Pristine white-on-white bed linens were piled high with various sizes and shapes of pillows. The only splash of color that drew his attention was an ornate, gilt frame.

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