A Taste of the Untamed by Susan Stephens

Author:Susan Stephens
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance, Contemporary, Contemporary Romance, Fiction
ISBN: 9781459249288
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2012-11-30T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘I CHOPPED my jeans off above the knee,’ he explained. ‘It’s easier than rolling them up.’

‘You might have warned me.’ Her hands moved deftly on, sadly missing any interesting parts of his anatomy. ‘You needn’t hold your breath,’ she said.

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ he defended wryly.

‘I think I just got scorched by your affront,’ she remarked. ‘I’m sure you’ve got a six-pack at the very least.’

‘At the very least,’ he agreed.

She mapped the width of his chest and seemed satisfied as she stood back. ‘You’re wearing a casual shirt,’ she said. ‘Describe it.’

‘Dark blue—a little frayed, a little faded.’

‘And you still have tattoos?’

‘Of course.’

‘The Band of Brothers—I remember,’ she said, returning to her investigations. Her little hand didn’t make it halfway round his upper arm. ‘And I seem to remember something inked in black on this big muscle here …’

‘You saw my tattoos during that polo match on the beach?’ Should he be quite so pleased she had remembered? ‘How much can you see now, Grace?’ he enquired, as curiosity got the better of him.

She laughed. ‘Enough to know that you block out the light.’

She must be mad. What was she doing, feeling her way around Nacho? She would never have dreamed of doing anything so intimate when she could see—so why now, when she was blind?

There had to be some advantages to being blind, she reasoned.

‘I can see fuzzy shapes,’ she revealed, in the interest of much needed distraction. ‘If the light’s good and I lift my chin I can see …’ The vaguest outline of your sexy mouth … ‘Vague shapes,’ she said, keeping as close as possible to the truth.

‘Is that it?’ he said.

‘Not yet. Stand still,’ she chided when he moved. She was beginning to enjoy this, though her heart was still thundering off the scale. ‘I’m glad you remembered your bandana,’ she said as she traced the band across his brow. ‘Wild hair must be contained at all times, according to health and safety rules,’ she teased.

‘Don’t forget the earring and the scowl.’

Forget safety, Grace thought, hearing the humour in Nacho’s voice. ‘You’re not scowling,’ she said.

Nacho laughed.

This was not going the way he had imagined. He had come to the cottage with a clear plan in his mind. This was not a date. He would be polite to Grace—chivalrous, even. He would escort her to the grape-treading, where he would keep her safe and help her to do her research. And that was it. If he’d known she was going to explore him so thoroughly with her hands he might have made different plans—like taking her to bed and to hell with the grape-treading, along with his guilty past and all his worthy resolutions.

‘Are we ready?’ Grace asked as she walked to the door.

He didn’t know about her, but he was ready enough to be in agony. ‘What? No laptop, notebook, or phone to take notes?’

‘None of the above,’ she said. ‘Tonight is strictly for enjoyment—I’ll learn more that way,’ she insisted.

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