First time’s the burn
He ran into her and her coffee and raced off with a burn and a snarl.
Second time’s a hitch
Being sexually attracted to Mr. Tall, Dark, and Rude hadn’t been on her agenda.She just wants him out of her massage clinic before he recognizes her or she jumps that sexy body. Not professional. Not at all.
Third time’s the charm
When Shelby Vanzant and Shane Collins meet again, the sparks fly. Shane has found his match in a sexy, intelligent woman he can’t stop thinking about. Shelby is scared, because she might grow to like this guy. The last guy she liked dumped her for someone hotter… She’s willing to take a chance–if her flamboyant mother, Shane’s macho best friend, and his Casanova of a younger brother don’t screw things up. With fate on their side, they might have a shot at a love they’d stopped looking for.
His smile widened into a grin big enough to split his face wide open. “Well, now. My weekend is complete.”
She felt herself blushing and forced herself to frown. “You are so full of it.”
“Of bad lines, yeah. Guilty.” He moved faster than she expected and latched onto her arm. He wore a pair of jeans and a tee-shirt and looked good enough to eat. Her heart raced uncontrollably.
Oh man. I am such an idiot. Remember Rick.
“Now before you accuse me of stalking again, I should tell you I work here.” He pointed behind him to the building. “Want to see?”
“Yeah. Prove it.”
He chuckled and walked her inside. They passed two security guards who nodded at Shane. Once in the elevator, he pulled her closer.
She put a hand on his chest when he looked like he might kiss her—because she wanted him to. “Whoa. What’s that about?”
“Just a kiss to say hello.” He grinned, and a dimple flashed in his cheek.
“Hello.” She blew out a breath, quietly, but gasped when he kept her hand on his chest. “Let go.”
“Feel my heart racing?” His eyes darkened. “I’m really glad to see you again.”
What did a woman say to that? “Uh, okay.”
The elevator door opened, saving her from looking like a total fool.
“My floor. Come on.” He left the elevator with her in trace. “Harmon & Sons is designing the new sports complex for the Seahawks, you know. An extra training facility near the stadium.”
“Nice.” Impressive, but she didn’t want to seem bowled over.
As they walked down the quiet hallway, she noted the lack of people. “Where is everyone?”
“Gone. We at Harmon & Sons appreciate our down time.” He winked at her. “I had some work to catch up on, so I came in to finish up. Here.” They entered a spacious room. “My office.”
“You said that already. How about, ‘Gee Shane. This is so impressive. I’ll give you that kiss you wanted earlier.’”
Shelby snorted. “Dream on. It’s not that great.”
He sank into the couch facing his desk. A leather couch, facing a grand desk that sat across from a drafting table. He had a small refrigerator in the corner and what looked like another door, to maybe a bathroom or a closet. Wooden blinds shuttered the windows on either side of the door. It was more than a nice office. The place smelled like high class and money all rolled into one.
Shane was so out of her league.
The thought annoyed her.
“What’s that look?” he asked, seeming fascinated.
Enthralled by a plain Jane with a humble background? Well, why not? Why the hell wasn’t Shelby good enough for him, anyway? “Kiss me.”
He blinked. “Ah, okay.”
“Right here. In your designer office.”
He didn’t refuse. But instead of coming right to her, he closed the door to his office. It snicked shut, and then he was right there in front of her.
“You’re quick,” she said, impressed despite herself.
Flattered but not convinced, she took back control of the situation. Rick the *rick had rejected her. This guy had run her down and appeared to like the look of her. Well, let him prove it. If nothing else, she’d be rid of this dry spell when it came to men.
The excitement of what she considered doing made the circumstances feel unreal.
“Shelby?” Shane asked, his voice hoarse. He stared down at her, his breathing fast, uneven. “I’m going to kiss you.”
“You’re going to do more than that.” She dragged his head down and plastered their mouths together. A rough mating of lips and tongues and teeth that alerted every cell in her body to wake the hell up. Right now.
He groaned and yanked her against him, grinding into her body with a massive hard-on. Then he pulled away. “Shoot. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I want to… Fuck.” He licked his lips, and she smiled.
“Yeah, fuck. That’s what I want. You have protection?”
“Protection?” His voice rose. “You want to do it here?”
He opened and closed his mouth several times, like a fish gasping for water.
The idea made her grin. “Scared?”
“Oh hell. I’m an idiot for hesitating, aren’t I?”
“I don’t know.” She pulled him down by his shirt. “I could be a stalker. Some psychotic woman who gets her kicks scalding men with hot coffee.”
He groaned. “I am so sorry for that.”
“So make it up to me.”
He nodded fiercely, and his quick turnaround surprised her. “You bet.”
Before she could rethink her impulse, question the condom issue again, or wonder about the incredible turn her life had taken—hello, sex with an almost stranger on a whim in his office—he kissed her again.
Copyright © 2011 Marie Harte
All rights reserved — MH Publishing