|
Know who you are and do it on purpose. — Dolly Parton |
SENTENCED TO WED
by
Adrianne Lee
PROLOGUE
The blast of water drenched Livia.
She yowled, leaping from behind
the Jurassic Park shower curtain. Water dripped from her
hair into her eyes
and her clothes cleaved her body like wet paint, accentuating
every feminine
curve and crevice. But compared to the naked man gaping at
her, she felt
wrapped in blankets.
Mark Everett's expression ran the gamut from shocked to
pissed in half
seconds, but his fury was lost on her as her gaze locked on his
body. Dear
God, he was gorgeous. His shoulders wide enough for a woman
to feel
protected in his embrace, the raven hair dappling his molded
chest looking
silken enough to tease a woman's fingertips, his belly as hard as
a rocky
riverbed, and the prize package lower definitely worth taking off
the ribbon
to enjoy. She blushed, jerked her head up and met the fire
of his golden
eyes.
Mark's heart galloped inside his chest as he glared at the
drenched woman
standing in his tub, her streaked blond hair plastered to her
head, her aqua
eyes wide--not so much with shock but. . .something darker,
sensual,
definitely breath-stealing. His gaze wandered over her
breasts, lingered on
her erect nipples, probed the cleft between her legs. It
was as if his
dreams of her had caused her to materialize. He felt the
heat reach into
him, rouse him.
She noticed and yelped. He bent to grab the towel at
his feet. She jumped
from the bathtub and darted past him, out the door.
Securing the towel, he
raced after her. Tackled her. Pulled her beneath
him. They were nose to
nose, but she didn't scream as he'd expected. "What
the hell are you doing
here?"
"Let me up! Now!" Her hands slammed
against his arms, his face.
He grabbed her wrists and pinned them over her head.
He felt her
struggling beneath him, felt his body responding to the enticing
movements,
fought against it. "Why did you climb through my
bathroom window and hide
up here?"
Her eyes narrowed with defiance. "Who--who are
you?"
Her question started his heart thundering harder and
harder. Had she
figured it out? Did she know? He stared deep into her
eyes. Something
sharp poked his breastbone, something she was wearing, a necklace
maybe,
and--as though it were a magical key, it seemed to unlock and
reveal that
strange connection he'd felt the night before with Livia
Kingston.
What did it mean? What?
She gulped. "What are. . .are you going to do to
me?"
Mark blinked, realizing he was fully aroused, his need
pressing hard
against the wet cloth gloving her belly, her beaded nipples
jabbing his
chest. She didn't seem to feel the fear inherent in her
question. In fact,
her eyes shone with something like curiosity, like need. He
stroked one of
her rock-hard nipples, then began moving his hand over her belly
and lower.
"What would you like me to do?"
His gaze locked on her lush mouth, and she licked her lips,
quit
struggling, puckering slightly as if challenging him silently to
do what he
wanted more than anything: to lose himself deep inside her.
He obliged,
lowering his mouth to hers, tasting her. He released her
wrists and she
moaned, her hands moving into his hair, her lips going pliant,
then hungry.
His need leapt degrees higher, and he ached to peel her wet
clothes from
her nubile body, to thrust into her, knowing she wanted it
too. But his
conscience flared through the fog of desire, shouting about the
thin line he
walked, warning him of the price he'd pay for acting on the fire
raging
through his veins. He jerked away from her, gathering the
towel around
himself as if his erection were not visible to them both.
"I'm not the one
who was hiding in your bathroom, Ms. Kingston. You ought to
consider
yourself fortunate that I don't thrust myself on women who don't
want me."
Livia's breath puffed out of her. Her face flared as
red as ripe tomatoes.
Embarrassment. Humiliation. Or mortification.
The air between them seemed
to sizzle. To crackle. She might regret what had just
happened. Might
want to deny she'd felt anything. But she hated that he
knew she'd been as
ready to abandon herself to him as he'd been to take her.
She stumbled up and backed away from him, fingering her
kiss swollen lips.
"Why do you have a photograph of Josh's family on your chest
of drawers?
Who are you?"
Mark pointed toward the door. "Get out."
"I will find out." Livia spun and left,
running down the stairs as if he
were chasing her.
But Mark couldn't move. Fear shivered from his brain
to the soles of his
bare feet, nailing him to the floor. Fear that she would do
exactly what
she claimed.
And that would ruin everything.
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