Free Fool Me Once by Mona Ingram Page B

A shiny patch of skin caught her eye.
    “What?”
He seemed amused. “What now?”
    “It’s
that scar,” she said, pointing to a spot a few inches above his waist. “It
looks suspiciously like a bullet hole.”
    “Know
something about bullet holes do you?” He twisted around, looking down at his
torso. “It wasn’t much more than a scratch. You can see where it came out, just
back here.”
    “You
were lucky.” She reached out and withdrew her hand just as quickly. “A few
inches farther in…”
    “Yeah.
I could have been in big trouble.”
    “You’re
awfully casual about it.”
    “I
may sound that way…” a shadow crossed his eyes. “…but there’s nothing casual
about death.”
    “No.”
Alerted by his tone, she watched him carefully. “There isn’t.”
    Lost
in thought, he stared into his coffee cup. Rotating it slowly, he seemed
mesmerized by the swirling liquid that remained.
    Olivia
set down her cup and stood up, walking behind his chair. “You’re tired,” she
said softly. “Why don’t you get some sleep?” She placed her hand on his
shoulder, and her heart lurched when he covered it with his hand.
    “Thanks
Olivia.” He rose from the chair. “And thanks again for coming with me.” His
fingers brushed the side of her neck, then trailed down her arm, heating every
nerve ending along the way. He picked up his shirt and disappeared into the
house.
    “It’s
my pleasure,” she said softly, wondering if her heart would survive the
conflicting emotions he aroused in her.

Chapter Five
    Olivia
studied her reflection as she prepared to go out for the evening. She chose a
simple black dress and found herself hoping Josh would approve. He had wakened
late in the afternoon, and then swam endless laps in the pool, tanned arms
flashing tirelessly through the water. She’d watched with an absorbed fascination
while her heart thudded inside her chest like a troupe of Irish clog dancers.
From now on there would be no more fantasies about what his body looked like;
it was everything she’d envisioned and more.
    As
she appeared on the pool deck he stood up, handsome in a crisp white shirt and
dark suit. Discreet gold and onyx cufflinks gleamed at his wrists. He backed up
a step and emitted a low wolf whistle.
    He
circled her with a predatory gleam in his eyes. “You look good enough to eat,”
he murmured softly.
    His
voice reached out and drew her in. It was sippin’ whiskey, it was black velvet,
it was hard steel–and God help her–it was hot sex, waiting to happen. She met
his eyes as he came to a stop in front of her.
    A
pulse throbbed in her throat and he smiled, tracing it with his fingertips as
his eyes held hers. Lowering his head, his lips brushed her skin where his
fingers had been, then trailed lower, lingering in the hollow of her neck.
“Olivia,” he whispered, raising his head. “I don’t know what I’m going to do
about you.” His lips seemed to suggest a world of new possibilities.
    “I
have a few ideas,” she murmured as his hands slid around her waist, pulling her
close. “And none of them include falling in love.” Mercy , she thought. Where
did that come from?
    “In
that case,” he said with a smile that lit his eyes from within, “I think I’ll
kiss my fiancée.”
    His
mouth claimed hers with a ferocity that buckled her knees. Her arms went around
his neck and she heard herself moan softly as his tongue probed between her
lips, devouring her until her body was wild with chaos. Opening her eyes, she
saw him watching her response, and she made no effort to hide her growing
desire. His eyes glittered hungrily, and he slanted his mouth across hers,
demanding and yet giving. An exquisite heat curled in the pit of her stomach,
aching to be extinguished. She clutched at his jacket, lost in a whirlwind of
emotion.
    Gasping
for breath they pulled apart, lips bruised and trembling. Holding her with one
arm he cupped her chin in one hand, brushing his thumb tenderly