Whisper My Name by Maureen Smith

Author:Maureen Smith
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2008-06-28T20:29:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Sebastien awakened at seven the next morning-hours later than he'd planned, hours sooner than he'd wanted.

Francesca lay half atop him with her soft, curly hair spread across his chest and one silky leg burrowed between his thighs just south of the growing erection that had roused him from a deep slumber.

Smiling a little, Sebastien reached out to stroke her hair, then stopped, realizing that once he touched her, he wouldn't be able to stop. He'd roll her gently onto her back, slide between the glorious haven of her legs, and bury himself deep inside her wet heat.

Much as he'd done throughout the night.

Francesca stirred, sighing softly in her sleep. Sebastien held his breath as she shifted on top of him, then rolled away to curl into a ball at his side, taking the covers with her.

Carefully, so as not to awaken her, Sebastien swung one leg over the side of the bed, then the other. Soundlessly he rose and gathered his clothes from the floor, then dressed quickly, grimacing as he zipped his jeans over his throbbing erection.

Bon Dieu, he thought. The first thing he'd do when he got home was take a damn cold shower.

He paused at the door, gazing down at Francesca. Bars of early morning sunlight slanted through the French doors, gilding the soft curves of her body. Every inch of her was beautiful, from her high, round breasts, gently muscled belly and shapely legs, to the sweet, curvy ass that had fulfilled the promise of his fantasies. He wanted her so bad he ached with it. But he couldn't stay any longer than he already had. He had too many pressing things to do-phone calls to make, paperwork to sort through, leads to pursue.

Tearing his gaze from the enticing vision of Francesca in the bed, Sebastien left the room quietly, closed the door, and headed down the hallway. He was halfway down the stairs when he heard the creak of a floorboard behind him, followed by the soft whisper of his name.

He glanced over his shoulder to find Tommie Purnell standing at the top of the stairs, clad in nothing more than the low-cut shirt she'd worn yesterday and a pair of black lace underwear. Her long dark hair looked as if she'd combed it, then deliberately fluffed it with her fingers to achieve a sexy, tousled look.

Sebastien would have to be dumb and blind not to notice just how beautiful she was. But she was also trouble. Trouble with a damn capital T.

She gazed down at him with those exotically tilted dark eyes, as at ease with her sexuality as he was with a gun. "Good morning," she murmured.

He inclined his head. "Mornin'."

"I wanted to thank you for not telling my sister about you-know-what yesterday."

"It's not my place to tell her," Sebastien said evenly.

"I know, but thanks, anyway. She wouldn't have understood."

"Maybe you're underestimating her."

"Trust me, I'm not. I know what a Goody Two-shoes my sister can be." She paused, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully on his face.

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