Free Midnight Under the Mistletoe by Sara Orwig Page B

steaming pot. He put
the lid back in place. The minute she saw him, she forgot dinner. He wore a
bulky navy sweater that made his shoulders appear broader than ever, and faded
jeans that emphasized his narrow hips and long legs. He was in the health shoe
and his loafer. Tangled curls were in their usual disarray. Zach’s eyes drifted
slowly over her, an intense study that had the same results as a caress. Then
his gaze locked with hers and her mouth went dry. She was held mesmerized while
her heart became a drumbeat that she was certain he could hear. Captured by his
look, she remained still while he stopped stirring and set aside the spoon to
saunter toward her.
    Her heart thudded as she tingled in a growing temptation.
“Zach,” she whispered, uncertain if she protested or invited because she wanted
to do both.
    He reached for her, drawing her to him to kiss her.
    Her stomach lurched while longing blazed. His passionate kiss
demanded her response. Trembling, she returned his kisses, her tongue stroking
his and going deep, exploring and tasting. He smelled of mint and deep woods.
His lean body was hard planes against her softness, building her excitement.
    Zach reached beneath her sweater, sliding his hand up to flick
free her bra and then cup her breast as his thumb stroked her. Pleasure
fluttered over her nerves and tickled her insides while she clung tightly to
him. Finally, she looked up at him.
    “Zach, this is exactly what I intended to avoid.”
    “So did I,” he whispered. “It’s impossible. Just plain,
downright impossible,” he added before kissing her.
    Moaning with pleasure again, she twisted against him. He was
aroused, ready to love. He unfastened her slacks, pushing them off, and they
tumbled around her ankles. Kicking off her shoes, she stepped out of them.
    Tearing herself away from his kiss, she gasped. “Zach, we’re
crossing a line.”
    “I told you, we crossed that line the day you walked into my
office for this job. This was inevitable.”
    “So ill matched and not what I want,” she said, looking into
eyes that had darkened to a cobalt blue. “A total disaster.”
    “You want this with all your being. You can’t stop,” he
whispered. His mouth ended her argument. Knowing he was right, she wanted him
and she wasn’t inclined to stop. She kissed him even though she’d declared their
lovemaking a disaster and meant every word.
    With deliberation he held her away to look at her and she
stepped out of her pooled slacks. He pulled free her red sweater and her
unfastened lacy bra went with it. His seductive gaze inched slowly over her,
made her pulse race.
    “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, caressing her breasts.
Pausing, he tossed away his sweater and she inhaled deeply at the sight of his
chest that tapered to a flat washboard belly ridged with muscles.
    His hands rested on her hips as his gaze dallied over her,
taking in the sight with measured thoroughness. “You’re gorgeous,” he whispered
hoarsely. “You take my breath.”
    She tingled beneath his sensual perusal. Wherever his gaze
drifted, she reacted as if it were his fingers instead of eyes that trailed over
her.
    He untied her hair, pulling loose the delicate silk scarf,
letting the free end slip down in a feathery whisper over her breast before he
let go and the scarf fluttered away.
    “Your hair is meant for a man’s fingers. I’ve thought that
since I saw you get out of your car the first day.”
    “Zach,” she whispered, shaking with need as she reached to pull
him close. He resisted, catching her hands, finishing his study. Caresses
followed with his fingers touching where he had looked.
    “Zach,” she gasped, closing her eyes, trembling when she
reached for him. He held her away, continuing his sweet torment. His feather
strokes started at her throat, moving to her nape and down her back, up her side
and then over her breasts, lingering, circling a taut point with his palm. She
inhaled and moaned.