His Moment to Steal: In the Line of Duty, Book 4
Page 17
She paced the main hall, and within fifteen minutes, Sam was back. He’d changed out of his swimsuit and now wore a pair of khaki shorts and a T-shirt that had a picture of a spoon and said “Cereal Killer”. She held open the door for him and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Some guys just never grew up.
Sam entered, carrying an armful of equipment. He stood in the foyer for a long moment, taking his time to look around. With his legs wide, and his eyes narrowed in deep concentration, it occurred to her that while he had a carefree nature, he took his job very seriously. He moved to the foot of the staircase and turned on some long wand-like piece of equipment. It made a high-pitched sound before settling into a steady beep.
He looked back at her. “Do you want to wait here?”
She shook her head and tried not to appear nervous. After all she didn’t believe in ghosts, right? “I should probably come. To show you which bedroom is mine.” Although she suspected a guy like Sam had no problem finding his way to a woman’s bedroom, and probably did it on a regular basis. Not that she cared. She didn’t.
The first step creaked beneath his weight as he began his ascent, and Lex stayed close behind. When they reached the top landing, she pointed to her bedroom. He gave the door a little push and stepped inside. Embarrassment flooded her when his glance strayed to her unmade cot and the stack of delicates that she’d rinsed by hand and taken off the line earlier.
His gizmo continued to beep steadily as he swept her room, then walked to the empty closet. He waved the wand thingy around inside and glanced up at the small, closed hatch overhead, one of the many access points to the attic.
“Your place is clean, Alexis.” He turned to face her but she was standing so close, he bumped her. She faltered a little but he slipped his arm around her waist to hold her.
“It’s…it’s Lex,” she corrected.
He smiled at her and his voice dropped an octave when he said, “Yeah, but I think Alexis suits you better.” His hand splayed over the small of her back, the soft stroke of his fingers on her sensitive flesh sending skitters through her body when he added, “It’s pretty, like you.”
Did he just say I was pretty?
Sleeping with her boss can only lead to trouble. And pleasure.
Highland Fling
© 2014 Shelli Stevens
The McLaughlins, Book 4
Delonna comes by her Scottish-style frugality honestly—her parents’ spendthrift ways once left her temporarily homeless. She’s been tending bar at McLaughlin’s Pub, looking forward to the day she can call her own shots. Until her now ex-boyfriend makes off with her hard-earned savings. Now she’s got a bookie breathing threats down her neck in an apparent attempt to squeeze blood from a turnip.
Aleck McLaughlin has three good reasons to keep his hands off the delectable Delonna. One, he’s her boss. Two, she’s a good ten years younger. Three, he’s sworn to never again leave his heart vulnerable.
Her predicament sends all those reasons out the window, and Aleck moves her in with him for protection, then whisks her away on a whirlwind trip from Whidbey Island to Scotland.
The romance of being in Edinburgh only increases their need for one another. But it quickly becomes clear they’re facing a past that’s just as painful as the present is dangerous…
Warning: A sexy, broody, pub owner determined to seduce his flirty, bombshell bartender. Not-so-hidden dangers, travels to Scotland, and maybe a little spanky panky.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Highland Fling:
Aleck had just begun putting in his whisky orders from their delivery source when Delonna strode into the back. He glanced up, distracted momentarily from the price changes, and glanced at her.
“Everything all right?” He needn’t have asked, though, if he went by the compressed lips and warning glint in her eyes.
“Last night, when you showed up to help me. Were you hoping for something in return at the end of the day?”
He stilled, not pleased with what she was implying. Leaning back in his chair, he narrowed his eyes at her.
“As in was I hoping you would shag me?” he asked lightly.
She blinked and then gave a small nod, folding her arms across her chest.
He bit back a snarl of a laugh. Then, as stoically as he could, he rolled his shoulders and said, “Aye.”
Her eyes went huge and her body began to tremble. “You complete jerk. You seriously—”
“Bloody hell, no, not seriously.” He stood up and rounded the desk toward her.
When she moved to back up, he caught her arm to stop her retreat.
“What kind of fookin’ bastart do you take me for?” he demanded.
She didn’t try to escape his grasp, but now lifted her chin and met his anger head on. “Well you had plans to screw someone else, so maybe you figured you’d pull a Boy Scout move with me and get lucky at the same time.”
“I helped you last night because I’m a nice guy. I can be one, you realize, when I want to be.” He slid his fingers down her arm to join their hands. “And I’m a bit curious at how you’d know all about my so-called plan to get laid last night.”
“Let’s just say a little birdie told me.”
He glanced at the door behind her, and wagered that if he were to open it he’d find his sister sitting at the bar.
“A little birdie named Kenzie, perhaps?”
“Does it matter?”
“Aye, it does.” He pulled her flush against him and this time she did look alarmed. “Because I suspect I don’t need to dress up as a knight in shining armor to get you into bed, Delonna.”
She made a little gasp and her eyes went even wider—if that were possible.
“You cocky mother—”
“Your mouth is really much better suited for kissing than cursing, luv.”
Before she could finish ripping him a new one, he dipped his head and claimed her lips. It wasn’t a need that had begun last night. Not even one from that kiss over the summer. It had been simmering on the back burner from the minute he’d hired her.
When she tried to pull away, he backed her up until she bumped in the closed door. He was completely unwilling to lift his mouth from the softness of hers.
Shite, there was a very good chance he was about to get sued for sexual harassment. Assault. Whatever the hell she wanted to go with if his gamble didn’t pay off and she didn’t start kissing him back soon.
He teased his tongue against the fullness of her compressed lips and her growl of anger morphed slightly into a moan. Just as quickly, she stopped trying to push him away and instead opened her mouth to him.
Her tongue met his halfway, and instinct and need took over. He gathered her tighter into his arms, deepening the kiss and tasting every inch of her mouth that he’d sampled so briefly last summer.
Completely overwhelmed by the taste and feel of her, and needing a whole lot more, he slid his hands down her back. Lower and lower still, until they rested on the soft roundness of her arse.
When he kneaded her flesh through the jeans, she made a low groan and rocked forward against him. His cock grew harder as it came into contact with her belly.
He thrust his fingers into her hair, pulling strands free from the ponytail as he held her head still to commandeer her mouth.
Deeper. Slower. Their tongues explored and tasted. She tasted of the whisky shot he’d given her. Sharp and sweet. And it went beyond the alcohol. It was as if he were getting drunk on the kiss. As if he were taking shot after shot.
She twisted her head to the side, and gasped in a breath.
“Lana,” he whispered.
Not wanting the break from the sweetness of her, he kissed the side of her mouth. Her jawline. And then the pale curve of her neck exposed over the McLaughlin’s Pub V-neck shirt.
She made another low moan and arched into him again. Her head fell back, lifting her full breasts higher and closer to his mouth.
He kissed lower. To the rapidly beating pulse
in her neck. Lower still. To the swells of the top of her chest. Her skin was so soft. Addictively sweet like sugar. Christ. He wanted to rip off her top and find out how those gorgeous breasts would feel in his hands. His mouth.
“Customers up front. And my arse isn’t working today.”
Kenzie’s sharp words from the other side of the door were followed by her retreating footsteps.
Son of a bitch.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249
His Moment to Steal
Copyright © 2015 by Cathryn Fox
ISBN: 978-1-61922-546-6
Edited by Tera Cuskaden
Cover by Angela Waters
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: March 2015
www.samhainpublishing.com
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
About the Author
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