Never a Bride by Joann Ross

Author:Joann Ross [Ross, Joann]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780373256372
Amazon: B00835TMHQ
Barnesnoble: B00835TMHQ
Goodreads: 1127447
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 1995-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

8

IT WAS NOT AN EASY TRIP. After landing in Boston, Sloan and Cait boarded a commuter jet to Bangor. In Bangor, they found the charter pilot Charity had promised would be waiting to take them to Castle Mountain. There was a ferry, she’d explained to Cait on the phone, however it only ran weekly until the summer tourist season.

It was past midnight when they touched down on the small landing strip and found a driver from the Gaslight Inn waiting. Cait was grateful when the man turned out to be a stereotypical taciturn New Englander. She was so ex-hausted, she was no longer able to think, let alone manage any type of coherent conversation.

The owner of the inn was waiting up as well, although the flannel robe the woman was wearing suggested she’d been awakened by the call from the pilot informing her of Cait and Sloan’s pending arrival. The old-fashioned parlor, which functioned as a lobby, was filled to the brim with Victorian and European furnishings Cait knew she would find delightful, if she weren’t so sleepy.

Sloan was as dead on his feet as Cait. But after having had her head on his shoulders during the flight from Bangor— she’d drifted off immediately after takeoff—and having inhaled her spicy scent at such close range, he was uncomfortably wired.

He declined the obviously sleepy owner’s offer to show them to their rooms, assuring her that they were more than capable of managing on their own.

For once Cait didn’t fight him when he scooped up both their bags. Desperately fighting to keep her eyes open, she dragged herself up the stairs.

The rooms were next door to one another. Sloan stopped at the first door and unlocked it. “Good night.”

“’Night.” She took her carry-on bag and turned to go in, but at the last minute he stopped her.

“Wait a minute. I forgot something.”

Cait glanced back over her shoulder. “What?”

Okay, so he was going to break the rules. But what the hell. He couldn’t help himself. Soft and flushed with sleep, Cait was the most delectable sight he’d ever seen.

“This.” His hand cupped her nape, sliding into her unbound hair. He bent his head. The touch of his lips on hers was as soft as dandelion fuzz, as brief as a heartbeat. Cait knew she was in deep, deep trouble when the light kiss caused her blood to thrum.

She was looking up at him with confusion and, dammit, Sloan thought, that painfully seductive, reluctant desire shining in her emerald eyes. It would be so easy, he mused. A few more lingering kisses, a tender touch here—his gaze skimmed over her breasts—another there—her hips—some seductive words, and she’d fall into his hands like a succulent, ripe plum.

But then what?

As impossible as it seemed, Sloan Wyndham, a man infamous for his hot, short, hit-and-run relationships, suddenly found himself wanting more. Much, much more.

He smiled. At her, at himself, at this ridiculous situation. “Good night.”

She was pressing her fingers against her still parted lips, as if trying to hold in the heat.

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