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“I—” He barely caught a glimpse of her long hair and bright blue eyes, which was apparently enough to made his blood heat and his heart pound, before the door almost swung shut again. He slid his foot inside it at the last second, barely stopping her from locking him out. She slammed into the door with the force she’d been using to close it, her held breath escaping her in a soft whoosh of air, and pain shot up his calf. “Jesus, Alicia.”

The guard came running toward him, and he scowled at the man.

He immediately stopped, backing off again.

She narrowed her eyes. “Wow. It must be nice to have the power to stop a man in his tracks with nothing more than a magical stare.”

“It would be nicer if my ‘magical stare’ worked on you, too. Or, better yet, my kisses. As I recall, they worked pretty damn well at the club.” He leaned on the doorjamb, sliding his foot inside a bit more. Her cheeks flushed as she sucked in a breath, staring at his mouth before forcing her attention back to his eyes. If nothing else, it was obvious that despite her hatred for him, she still desired him—and he couldn’t stop the surge of satisfaction that punched him in the chest at that knowledge. “Maybe we could try again?”

“I’d rather kiss my own foot,” she said with a cold smile.

Amusement warred with frustration in his gut. It was beginning to become a feeling he associated with Alicia. It wasn’t just that he wanted to be with her—he had to get to the bottom of why she thought he was a liar. It had been eating at him for three days, keeping him up at night as he lay alone in his bed. This had to stop. “You can’t stay in there forever.”

“No, but I can stay in here until I’m permitted to leave.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “And, for the record, we have no reason to spend time together.”

He raised a brow. “I disagree. You may be in denial, but I see how your body reacts to me.”

“You’re welcome to fool yourself into thinking that, if that’s what you’d like.”

“Let me in, and I’ll show you just how wrong you are,” he said, his tone low. “Several times.”

She bit down on her lip, her breath quickening. “No, thank you.”

It took all his control not to reach through the door, curl his hand around the back of her neck, and kiss her until she stopped hating him long enough to listen.

She wore blue jeans, a gray tank top, and flip-flops. She was the epitome of the all-American girl he’d fallen for years ago, but she was grown up now. All woman. And she was fucking killing him.

His gaze dipped over her soft curves, lingering over the way the soft cotton shirt played with the natural slope of her breasts. It was long and loose, but there was no erasing the fact that her hips fit all too perfectly in his hands. He’d learned that firsthand.

It was something he’d never forget…

No matter how easily she could.

She cleared her throat, cheeks red, and tugged on her shirt as if that would hide her body from him. It wouldn’t work. Nothing would. The way her body felt pressed against his was ingrained in his memory, and it haunted him every night when he laid in bed alone with nothing but his own hand to keep him company. It was a poor substitute for her warm body, which he’d also learned firsthand…no pun intended.

“Stop,” she demanded, pressing her palm to her stomach and taking a deep breath.

“Stop what?” he asked immediately.

“Stop looking at me like you’ve seen me naked,” she finished, biting down on her lower lip.

He smirked, taking in her slim form again. This time he did it deliberately. He lingered over his favorite parts, taking his time. An answering desire darkened her eyes, and she leaned in closer, as if she felt the invisible pull between them that he’d been feeling since the moment she walked into that club.

Hell, scratch that.

He’d felt it back in New York.

“I don’t care how much I still want to jump your bones, I’m not going to—” she broke off, her cheeks instantly turning red. “Oh my God. Did I just say that out loud?”

Satisfaction coiled in his gut, and he leaned in, his chest rising and falling rapidly because she’d just admitted to wanting him. And if she still felt it, too…

It was time to stop playing quite so nicely.

“I didn’t mean to say that. I’m just hungry, for food, so I want to jump your bones…for food…not sex.” She stopped talking, shaking her head. “Yeah. No. That didn’t make it any better.”

He rubbed his jaw, hiding his smile. “Nope.”

“Just go away.” She pushed the door on his foot again, but he didn’t budge.


Tags: Diane Alberts Modern Fairytales Romance