Page 41 of Saber Stalked


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What? It’s the massage’s fault I’m weak. Fight me.

I glance down at the only cocktail dress I own. It’s a royal blue sleeveless sheath. “You sure it’s not too plain?”

Rand eats up the distance between us in two strides. He plants his big hands on my waist. “You could never be plain. No matter how hard you tried.”

His eyes close as he leans closer to me. I realize he’s going to kiss me. I lick my lips, then remember I haven’t kissed anyone in weeks. Months maybe. Dr.Whatever-The-Hell-His-Name-Iswasn’t big on kissing. Felt it was “superfluous” - his exact words.

I suck in a breath and step out of Rand’s embrace. “Um. We probably need to get going. Yeah. Let’s get going.”

I turn to hide my embarrassment, reaching for the clutch I left on the dining room table. Yes, there’s even a dining room in our swanky penthouse.

Before I can turn back to the room, I feel Rand’s heat behind me. He wraps his arms around my waist and leans toward my ear. “Do I make you nervous?”

“Ha! No. Not nervous. I’m not nervous. Why would you say I was nervous? Pssh. Nervous. Hardly. I’m not nervous. Your face is nervous.” I’m stuck in a loop.

I’m totally nervous.

“Now, who’s rambling?”

He turns me to face him. I escape by ducking under his arm. “Ready?”

“To kiss you? Yes.” Rand steps closer to me but must see the look of panic on my face because he stops. “But, if you’re not ready for that, I’ll back off. I like touching you, Carolina. And I can’t seem to stop myself. But I will if that’s what you want.”

All of a sudden, the welling panic attack dissipates. I breathe a sigh of relief, then realize I’m sad. I’m sad he didn’t press to kiss me, even though I panicked at the moment.

I don’t want that, right? Him to kiss me?

Hmm. I stare at his soft lips. They’re the only soft thing about him. Well, maybe his eyes are a close second. The man is hard from head to toe. I don’t mean in a turned-on sort of way, although I can tell by the tent in his pants that he’s turned on. I’m talking about muscles for days.

When he pressed close to me in the lobby, then again moments ago, I felt the ridges of his abs, the cords of muscles in his forearms, and the bulging biceps that surprisingly stay within the dress shirt underneath his suit jacket. Those muscles should scare the crap out of me. Those muscles mean he could take away my choices.

But for some reason, I’m not afraid of him.

I trust him.

Huh. That’s a new one.

Through the open top button on his shirt, I can see the solid lines of his neck, and when he swallows, that bobbing Adam’s apple.

It bobs again. My eyes fly to his. I detect amusement in their green depths.

“Get a good look, puffin?”

Damn it.

“It’s okay. I was checking you out in the glass door reflection when you walked downstairs,” Rand chuckles. “And I might have snuck a peek while you were nearly naked during our massages.”

“What the hell?”

Then, that sexy scientist smiles at me, and it’s all I can do to remember why I was mad at him in the first place.

Wait. Is that a dimple?

D-I-M-P-L-E-S! Dimples! Dimples! Goooooooo Dimples!

My lady parts break out the pompoms and are doing a cheer for their fake fiancé.

“Man, if ever there was a time that I wish I could do a Vulcan Mind Meld with someone,” Rand laughs. “I’d love to know what’s going on in that head of yours.”