As she’d mentioned to Erin, Lara had previously looked Connor up online, searching for any indication he had a girlfriend.She hadn’t seen recent pictures of him with any women, though he’d been photographed at a Boston event with Julien Bonds, the renowned technology genius.But there was frustratingly little to give her a glimpse of who he really was or what mattered to him.
Without conscious thought, she pulled up the bookmarked images of him.All of them were mouth-watering.No matter what he was wearing, from khakis and a polo shirt with deck shoes, to a suit like he’d worn today, the man looked delicious.Tall and handsome, he had the lean frame of a runner or bicyclist.He was powerful and sexy.And he tripped all her physical responses.
She glanced up from the screen and stared into the distance, replaying their unexpected meeting near the elevator.
As a professional, she’d understood that Connor had been visiting on business, but the woman in her had pulsed with awareness.
Unbidden, Erin’s words returned to tumble through Lara’s mind.
Marry Connor?
The idea was absurd.
But for a moment, the idea of being with him tantalized.She wondered what it would be like to be with him, to surrender to his kiss.Would he be as bold in the bedroom as he was outside it?For a moment, she pictured him with his fingertips poised to open the top button on her favorite blouse.Would he skim her skin as he bared it, or would he move aggressively to the next button?
How restrained was he?
Would he tear the material in his haste to have her?That thought was followed by another, and she imagined him undressing, taking off his belt then looping it around his hand as he approached her.
She shook her head.
What was wrong with her?She wasn’t sure where the unbidden fantasy had come from.And, as she’d found out, men thought she was too kinky as it was.She’d do better to banish the thoughts.
Adding Connor Donovan to her evening fantasies was a prescription for disaster.
Determinedly, she shoved her musings away.
She had real issues she needed to focus on, a family business that needed serious attention.And Connor had already indicated his willingness to help.
The idea of approaching him made rockets of ice shoot up her spine to settle at the back of her neck.
Lara reached for her glass and took a deep drink, contemplating.No doubt her father would see her action as disloyal.But her job as CFO was to advise and make recommendations, even if the owner didn’t want to hear them.
Resolved, she went to shut down the tablet, but was once again riveted by a picture of Connor, this time adjusting one of his starched cuffs.
Damn, everything he did radiated appeal.
She headed inside and deposited her iPad and unfinished drink on the counter, telling herself she wasn’t going to use her shower massager to masturbate while she thought of Connor.
But as she turned on the water in the bathroom, Lara admitted she was lying to herself.She was aroused—consumed by naughty thoughts of him—and she needed relief.
Chapter Two
Lara Bertrand.
Christ.
Five minutes before his alarm clock was set to shatter the silence, Connor Donovan threw back the sheet and crawled from bed.
Last night, he’d taken a long swim after he’d gotten home, hoping to get rid of the memory of her.It hadn’t worked.Instead, he’d been tormented by thoughts of her dark brown eyes, long hair that he wanted to pull and her beautiful sun-kissed skin that reflected her Cajun heritage.Her delectable fragrance—lemony and spicy—evoked magnolias and made him think of sultry, endless summer nights.He recalled the way she’d felt when he’d momentarily held her in his arms.Her softness, responsiveness, had scorched him, igniting physical hunger.
Connor rarely spent any time thinking about women.Work obsessed him, and he’d discarded the idea of dating because relationships mattered to him.They demanded and deserved an investment of time and energy.It would be selfish to ask a woman out while knowing it wouldn’t progress beyond something casual.
His subconscious obviously hadn’t been impressed by the decision of his rational mind, and thoughts of Lara had haunted him all night.
He’d dreamed of her, imagining the sight of her in his bed, naked with her arms over her head, wrists secured to the headboard, not with silky ties, but with rope.Hemp would leave tiny marks that he could enjoy for hours.Her eyes would be closed, her back arched, legs spread as she begged for his touch, his domination.
Now, he all but inhaled the scent of her on his pillow—spiced citrus and feminine seduction.
