She hadn’t forgotten, though. There was something incredibly special about Tim Crichton…
God, and here she was, mooning over him again. Time to get over it.
Miranda stuffed her comb back into her little sequined clutch, and after one last check to make sure she looked her absolute best, she returned to the foyer between the bar and the restaurant. The breeze from the mall doors gave her a shiver, but she was glad she’d left her coat hanging on the restaurant’s coat rack when a couple of guys gave her interested looks on their way into the bar. Not that she was interested in them—she just appreciated the validation of her wardrobe choice for tonight. Her sequined tank dress, whose hem ended a couple of inches above her knee, might be a little fancy for the occasion, but she’d rather be overdressed than underdressed. She had a statement to make.
Taking a deep breath, she gave the hostess Tim’s name and was directed to the private room at the back of the restaurant. Tim was already there, greeting people at the door with his typical date, a tall Nordic goddess with plenty of cleavage. Where did he find them all? Was there some plant that manufactured a new girlfriend to his specs every month?
Her heart contracted painfully at the sight of him. She’d loved him for so long everything about him was imprinted on her memory. As usual, his auburn hair looked like it had been styled with a hand mixer, his jaw sported designer stubble and he was dressed eclectically—his black slacks, gray silk shirt and red-and-black striped tie were offset by clunky boots and a leather jacket.
He wasn’t quick enough to conceal his surprise at seeing her, but he covered it with an over-bright smile and gave her the same quick, impersonal hug he always did.
“Miranda. Glad you could make it.”
“Me too,” she murmured, trying not to drink up his familiar leathery scent.
His surprise made her feel self-conscious and at the same time strengthened her conviction that she’d done the right thing by coming tonight. No doubt he’d thought she was at home crying her eyes out. Well she’d show him—assuming Peter still intended to show up. God, please let him show up. She needed an ally tonight.
Tim slid his arm around the blonde, who was probably about his height but whose do-me heels made her look several inches taller.
“Alyssa Burns,” he said, “meet Miranda Girard, one of my classmates.”
The demotion from close friend to classmate hit her like a wrecking ball, and she was still trying to process the pain into a coherent reply to Alyssa’s greeting when Tim’s incredulous blue eyes focused over her shoulder. “Dude, what’s the occasion?”
“I’ve got a hot date.”
Miranda turned and smiled up at Peter tremulously, her relief so intense she almost teared up. How had she ever imagined she could make it through this evening alone?
Apparently one look at her face was the only cue he needed.
“There’s my gorgeous girl!” he declared before sweeping her into his arms and kissing her like he’d been out to sea, missing the softness of a woman for years.
Gratitude alone would have been enough to make her sink into Peter’s embrace with a whimper of surrender—his timing, sensitivity and flare for the dramatic were exquisite.
But it was pure, unadulterated lust that made her part her lips and greet his demanding tongue with her own. He smelled like spice and sin but tasted like spearmint, and his chest and abs felt like rock-hard heaven against her boneless body.
Miranda had never experienced anything like him before, and she strained to get closer, clutching his neck and delighting in the damp, soft hair at his nape.
In return, Peter hummed low in his throat and spread his feet as he tipped her back a little further, holding her head in place with one hand and pressing her hips against his with the other. God, he was so strong!
And he had an erection.
The realization sparked wildfires in all her most needy, neglected places and she groaned, sucking on his tongue, pressing harder against him. She’d been holding back for so long, waiting for something exactly like this. She wanted more, wanted her dress gone so she could wrap her legs around his waist and—
Peter tore his mouth from hers and eased his hold just a bit as he straightened, breathing heavily. “Save some for later, baby,” he said in her ear. “We’ve got all night.”
Miranda surfaced slowly, finally hearing the clinking of glassware and the low rumble of conversation over the pounding of her heart as Peter let her slip down his long body to her feet. He didn’t let her go, a fact for which she was profoundly grateful since her legs were as wobbly as a newborn colt’s.
He nuzzled her ear, clearly trying to get his breathing under control—that, and his erection, which still stood firm and hot between their bellies. Wow. If he wasn’t into women, he was one hell of an actor.
Then she remembered that Tim was probably still standing behind her, waiting to greet their other classmates, and she laughed breathlessly without opening her eyes.
“You laughing at my distress, little girl?” Peter murmured, backing up enough to press soft kisses across her cheek to her lips.
Kissing him back languidly, still a little bit in shock, she shook her head. “This is insane.”
“Insanely good.” He let go enough for her to stand on her own and rubbed her back. “Sorry,” he said to Tim in a louder voice. “It was a long week without her.”
“I guess so,” Tim replied flatly. “You look like a rodeo clown, Pete. And here, Miranda, you dropped this.”
Miranda’s eyes popped open and she laughed at Peter. “You stole all my lipstick,” she accused, accepting her clutch from Tim with barely a glance.
Peter’s gray eyes smiled down at her as he stepped back and pulled a hankie out of his pocket. “My bad,” he said, scrubbing at his lipstick-smeared lips. “I’m sure it looked better on you.”
“I don’t know. You make an awfully handsome rodeo clown.”
He sent her a coy look. “I’m afraid of cowboys.” When she snickered, he folded the hankie the other direction and handed it to her. “While I find the rodeo clown look charming on you, too, it would probably raise a few eyebrows at our table.”
As she wiped off what was left of her lipstick, Miranda finally noticed the rest of him and her eyes widened. “Wow, look at you.”
Talk about a transformation—in barely fifteen minutes, he’d apparently showered, shaved and combed his short brown hair, which usually looked as though it had been styled with the same hand mixer as Tim’s, into a neat side part. He’d also changed into a charcoal suit with a snowy dress shirt and matching turquoise paisley vest and tie.
Peter Vaughn was freaking gorgeous. And he was looking at her as if she were the only woman in the room. The only woman in the entire world.
Breathing suddenly became difficult and her heart thumped unevenly. He was acting, for God’s sake! She needed to dial back the warm fuzzies before she made an idiot out of herself. Again. No need to transfer one lifetime obsession for another just because of a kiss.
“You want something from the bar?” he asked.
Miranda shook her head. “I’ll just have wine with dinner, thank you.”
Without another word, Peter laced his fingers with hers and led her right past Tim.
Available Now!
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ABOUT EDEN BRADLEY
Other Titles by Eden Bradley
Bonus Excerpt: THE DARK GARDEN
Bonus Excerpt: FORBIDDEN FRUIT
Bonus Excerpt: TEMPTATION’S EDGE
Bonus Excerpt: SANCTUARY
Bonus Excerpt: SUMMER SOLSTICE
Bonus Excerpt From R.G. Alexander: Poss
ess Me
Bonus Excerpt - RG Alexander: Four For Christmas
Bonus Excerpt - RG Alexander: Marley in Chains
Bonus Excerpt - Robin L. Rotham: Not So Tiny Tim
Breaking Skye Page 14
