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There’s nothing wrong with being a housekeeper to a wealthy lawyer…unless he’s irresistibly sexy and the feelings he stirs are oh so right.
In the earliest hours of the morning, her lids fluttered open and she blinked at the bedside lamp she'd left on. Her mouth felt dry, urging her to drink something. She got her slippers on and went down the staircase, the slip brushing softly against her hips and thighs. Quiet darkness enveloped most of the house while pale moonlight beamed in through the kitchen windows. She yawned, poured herself a glass of water and quenched her thirst.
The cool liquid was refreshing yet she'd woken from a deep sleep and yearned to get back to bed. She rubbed her eyes and retraced her steps on swift feet, crashing into a solid mass seconds later. A surprised cry broke from her throat as a pair of warm hands grasped her upper arms. Her heart nearly jumped through her chest as she looked up into wide, hazel eyes, her mouth dropping open. Oh God.
She heard a quick intake of breath, then a low, unsteady release of breath. "Madie, it's me," Adam said, his voice deeper than usual.
Their gazes locked, drawing them into a remote place. Madie's heart barely settled, heat rushing to every part of her that touched him. She was intensely aware of her breasts pressed against the hard muscles just below his chest, her belly molded to the tight flesh along his abdomen and her mound nestled against his arousal. Sensation shuddered low in her belly. She breathed in the nice, natural smell of his skin, mixed with a note of faded aftershave. Her nipples had tightened into peaks and her sex clenched.
At first, Adam looked as stunned as she felt, but seemed to recover quickly, his gaze traveling over the exposed skin of her throat, shoulders and rise of her breasts above the lacy neckline. His handsslid down her arms to rest at her elbows and she noticed a flicker of unguarded desire in his eyes.
She stepped away from him, their bodies parting after endless seconds. They looked at each other in the silver light of the room, Madie drinking the sight of his white undershirt stretched against the hardness of his torso, his slim hips and long legs outlined in the cotton pj pants and his bare feet. And there was that bulge ... the core of his virility. She felt the accelerated movement of her chest as a current of awareness flowed between them, potent, palpable, it almost sizzled. Caught in the connection, Madie didn't bother hiding her body's response, not even when his gaze fixed on her breasts. If she closed her eyes and leaned against him once more, she'd be lost ... not uttering a word of protest should he take her into his arms and to his bed.
Posted August 11, 2012