Rake Most Likely to Seduce by Bronwyn Scott

Author:Bronwyn Scott [Scott, Bronwyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781488003875
Amazon: 0373298668
Barnesnoble: 0373298668
Goodreads: 25897388
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

The soft clink of china on a tray alerted her. Gianna looked up from where she sat cross-legged on the big bed, her hands stilling on the lid of her mother’s box. Nolan stood in the doorway dressed in his banyan and carrying a tea tray, dark-blond hair loose at his shoulders, grey eyes trained on her. ‘Is it all there?’

‘I don’t know. I haven’t got that far yet.’ It was hard to look away from him even with the temptation of her mother’s box on her lap.

A smile played at his mouth as if he were a concerned friend, nothing more, certainly not the man who had so expertly ravaged her in the dark hall of the palazzo or a man who might want to continue that ravishment here on the bed, more was the pity. She had mixed feelings about that, thanks to the afternoon. Pleasure was addictive, especially when she’d had a taste of it and there was more to be had.

Nolan set the tray down between them and matched her cross-legged position on the bed, careful not to overset the tray with his weight on the soft mattress. ‘I thought tea might be in order.’

‘No brandy?’ Gianna teased, trying to ignore the flutter in her stomach, a flutter that always seemed to be there when he was present. She’d not bargained on feeling such attraction. The longer they were together, the harder it was to ignore. The attraction had begun to put down roots, to move beyond the physical. Sharing stories had been dangerous.

Nolan laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. ‘You haven’t learned your lesson? I thought we’d both be better off without brandy tonight.’ He passed her a cup, and she curled her hands about it, appreciating its warmth. He sobered as he fixed his own cup. ‘I also thought you might want company. If not me, then at least the tea. In my experience, memories and the night don’t always make the best companions.’

His thoughtfulness was as seductive as his kiss, further proof those roots were digging in. Right then, she would have given up going through her mother’s box to hear his experiences. What other memories haunted him, this man who seemed so self-assured, who always knew what to do next, what to be next? He anticipated her needs, read her thoughts as if he knew her. That was the danger. He wasn’t her friend, not really. She was smart enough to know better. He wasn’t the only one in the room who knew how people thought, how they worked in any given situation.

It was their circumstances that made them seem more intimate than they truly were. People who risked burglary together, people who’d found kinship in a fish market, who’d sought pleasure in an afternoon gondola and faked rather realistic sex against a wall, couldn’t help but feel a false sense of closeness, a false sense that they knew each other or were somehow entitled to know each other.

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