Free The Wedding Affair (The Affair Series Book 2) by Suzanne Halliday Page A

gruff tone.
    “Samantha.”
    A shiver raced along her spine when he said her name.
    “Um, Sam. Just Sam.”
    His eyes flared.
    “Samantha,” he repeated with pinpoint precision. “Before we were even introduced, I saw you.”
    She was frozen, unmoving and barely able to breathe. What was he saying?
    “That second when your hand slid into mine, I wanted to strip you naked and push you onto a lounger.”
    Sam gasped and stammered at his provocative words. “You, you did?”
    “Fuck, yeah.” His muttered answer sounded raw with frustration. “You made it off the beach in one piece despite the temptation to have my wicked way with you under the moon—down by the water’s edge.”
    “Me?” she squeaked.
    His expression gentled. “Yes, Samantha. You.” He shifted in his seat and looked around. When his eyes met hers again, she couldn’t look away.
    “At the door to your room? When I walked you back last night.”
    She nodded, remembering the moment.
    “I wanted to shove you against the wall, push my leg between your pretty thighs, and make you ride it while my tongue explored your sweet mouth.”
    Her mouth was moving, but no words came out. She saw his hand, the one with the watch and leather band, move to the center of the table, palm up. His fingers moved twice. He was asking for her hand.
    A warm morning breeze blew hair into Sam’s face and made a slender curl flutter across her neck. Out of habit, she reached for the long tangles, gathered them behind her head and twirled the mane into one long tendril. Usually, the trick worked to keep it all in one place, for a couple of minutes at least.
    His hand waited. She looked at it after finishing with her hair. It felt. . .well, it felt like a command, and the thought made her heart pound.
    Completely unsure of herself, she answered his call. Her arm extended in a jerky straight-line like a car running out of gas, and when her hand touched his palm, she could see her fingers shaking.
    “You fascinate me, Samantha Evers.”
    “Sam,” she croaked from sheer reflex.

H ow could this girl not know how interesting she was? Ryan found her complete lack of game to be refreshing and equally as beguiling. In his mind, the rules changed the minute he saw her for who she was. The golden stunner with the clueless style who flirted without design was a rare find. This time-out-of-place encounter was an once-in-a-lifetime blessing.
    Turning her small hand over so his was in the dominant position, his eyes drifted the length of her arm, taking in the underside’s paler skin. Wanting to lick every centimeter of her creamy skin, his mouth and tongue tingled in anticipation. He knew without debate that she’d be soft and taste sweet.
    He thought it cute how she kept trying to make him call her Sam. The stammering, hesitant insistence did things to his groin he wasn’t sure were appropriate in this situation. Sam was an endearment, not a nickname. Something used in private. Not out in the world.
    “Samantha,” he growled playfully.
    A soft pink glow highlighted her suntanned cheeks. The colors made her eyes seem brighter than usual.
    “You are a rare gem in a world of tacky glitter.”
    She almost snickered. Almost.
    And he almost rolled his eyes at how greeting card-ish that sounded.
    “Now, see.” Ryan chuckled softly. It couldn’t be helped. “Right here is exactly why. I’m trying to be all serious and whatnot but you? You’re at a comedy show.”
    Serious moment be damned. She giggled despite chomping on her lips. “Aw, come on,” she quipped. “You have to admit that was pretty cheesy.”
    “Rare gem in a world of tacky glitter is cheesy?” He made sure there was a double helping of mock outrage in his retort. “I beg your pardon, madam, but I do believe that in certain circles that particular bumper sticker would score a perfect ten.”
    She leaned on her elbows and added her hand to his creating a tangle of fingers and palms.
    “Eight, maybe an