by Mara Jacobs
Chapter 8
Leo stood with his back to the door, his arm bent behind him, his hand still gripping the knob. He needed to get his balance, find his control. Which was difficult when he felt like the world had narrowed to the space filled by one lean, five-foot, seven-inch woman. She overwhelmed his senses––the rustle of her skirts, the clean, citrusy scent of hair, the memories of the silken feel and the salty, sweet taste of her skin. But most of all, she filled his vision. He couldn’t stop looking at her, couldn’t see past her.
And she, apparently, was not experiencing the same shock to her system. She spun to face him with a graceful swirl of skirts and put her hands on her waist. “What is wrong with you? Why have you been looking at me like you’ve been looking at me all evening?”
Trust Devine to get right to the point. Amusement helped him pull it together enough to straighten and take a step away from the door. “You have a dress on, Devine. I’ve never seen you in a dress. Of course I’m going to look at you differently.”
“The sight of a woman in a dress immediately makes you think of sex? Because you are definitely thinking about sex.” She hesitated. “I think.”
“No, the sight of a woman in dress doesn’t immediately make me think of sex. The sight of you in a dress makes me think of sex.” He took a step closer. “The sight of you in that dress makes me want to fight dragons for you.” He touched her soft cheek. “Even worse, it makes me want to fight dragons with you.”
For a moment, he thought she’d walk into his arms. Her eyes got liquid soft and her lips parted. Then she opened her mouth. “Shut up, Ramos. Just two or three weeks ago you clearly warned me off. Now you’re going to fight dragons for me? I don’t have any dragons.” She glared at him. “And if I did, I’d fight them myself.”
“We all have dragons.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.
She frowned but didn’t say anything.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about that night at the Pub, a lot about you.” He met her eyes and went for it. “I think you’re the greatest thing since hot fudge sundaes, Grace Elizabeth Devine.” He moved forward and leaned down to speak softly in her ear. “And I want another lick.”
