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“But I’ve got a silver badge and a patrol car with flashing lights. If you’re nice I’ll take you for a ride in it sometime.”

“I doubt that being nice would win a woman any points with you, Mr. Beaumont.”

He tipped his head toward her

as though to say, “Score one for you.” Still, his smile wasn’t one of contrition. He had almost reached the door when he stopped abruptly, snapped his fingers, and said, “Oops, forgot my flashlight.” He retraced his steps into the kitchen.

Sunny waited by the front door. What was taking so long? she wondered when a minute passed and he didn’t reappear. “Mr. Beaumont?” she called. Nothing. Impatiently, she tapped her bare foot against the floor.

Another minute went by and he still didn’t come back. Curious and vexed, Sunny went into the kitchen after him. She found him leaning against the countertop studying his wristwatch.

“What on earth are you doing?”

“Come here,” he said, keeping his eyes on the face of his watch.

Intrigued, she padded over to the counter and joined him in watching his wristwatch. It wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary, certainly nothing so captivating as to absorb him this way. The second hand was sweeping its way up toward the twelve.

“Five, four, three, two, one,” Ty said, counting down.

“So? What does that mean?”

“That means, Sunny Chandler, that you’re in serious trouble.”

He turned, and by doing so, pinned her in the corner where the cabinets met and blocked off her escape with his body. He braced his hands on both sides of her hips and leaned into her. “It’s midnight.”

“Is this where you turn back into a rat?”

He laughed. “In a manner of speaking. I’m officially off duty.”

She glowered at his grinning face. “Get away from me.”

“Ah, come on, Sunny. Be a sport.” He took a strand of her hair between his fingers and whisked it back and forth across her neck. “I just got off work after a hard day. I had to break up a fight between two dads at the Little League ballgame, track down a lost kid, and arrest a guy for DWI. Not to mention patrolling the riotous streets of Latham Green and rescuing a hysterical woman from a herd of raccoons. Or is it a pack of raccoons?” He shrugged. “Anyway, you get my drift. It’s time to play. Don’t you want to play with me?”

“No. And will you—” Her sentence ended on a gasp of surprise. “What are you doing?”

“Feeling your heart.” He laid his hand over the top curve of her breast. “When I came in, I could see your pulse pounding. Here.” He pressed her breast. “And here.” He settled his lips against the base of her throat and planted a sweet kiss there. “Know what?” He slid his hand just inside her tank top. “I think it’s pounding just as hard now.”

Not only was her heart pounding, but her breath was coming in shallow pants that pushed her breast up into his curving palm. He didn’t move his hand, didn’t claim more than that upper curve. Her nipple tightened in preparation for a caress that never came. It was maddening.

“Leave me alone.” Sunny’s voice was feeble and lacked conviction. But how could she possibly muster imperiousness when he was taking love bites up and down her throat?

“Want to know a secret?” His lips moved beneath her hair to her ear. “When I saw you standing in the doorway wearing nothing but that nightie, my heart started pounding, too. Feel it.”

With his free hand, he lifted hers. He tucked it inside his shirt, directly over his heart. The steady, solid beat filled her hand. The warm skin was as comfortable as a fireplace on a frosty morning. The forest of hair prompted curious explorations from her fingers.

His teeth closed gently on her earlobe. He worried the two diamond studs with the tip of his tongue. “After I left this afternoon, did you think about me?”

“No.”

“Liar.” He nudged her thighs apart and cushioned himself in that warm, soft cove. “You thought about me. About us. Together. You thought about that kiss.”

“No, no, I didn’t.”

His laughter was husky and deep. “Oh, yes, you did. That’s all I thought about. I was almost derelict in my duties thinking about that kiss.” His mouth moved back to hers. He rubbed her lips with his. “My tongue inside your mouth. Moving in and out. Just like making love.”

“Stop it.” The protest was little more than a ragged breath.

“No way, Sunny. Not until you’re beneath me. Naked. Wanting.”


Tags: Sandra Brown Romance