Winner of Last Sunday's Smooch Giveaway from Annie West

Hi everyone! Annie West here with the results of the draw from last week's SUNDAY SMOOCH GIVEAWAY.  The WINNER of a signed copy of 'Sheikh's Royal Baby Revelation' is BLUEBELLINA! Congratulations.

Bluebellina, if you could contact me at annie(at)annie-west.com with your postal details I'll post your prize.

To everyone else, thank you for your interest. Look out for more Sunday Smooches and chances to win in future.

Sunday Smooch - Sheikh's Royal Baby Revelation by Annie West

Welcome to another LoveCats DownUnder Sunday Smooch! Today we have a smooch from Annie West.

But first, the WINNER  of last week's Sunday Smooch giveaway is JM BARTON! Congratulations. To claim your prize, please contact Clare at Clareconnelly@outlook.com

Desert captives for one night

Bound forever by their unexpected baby

When desert prince Ashraf was kidnapped alongside geologist Tori, their desperation to escape their life-threatening situation led to a moment of passionate oblivion. Rescued the next day, Ash was never able to discover Tori’s fate. He’s finally found her… But in their time apart, Tori has had his son! And now Ash will stop at nothing to claim them both!

Scene set-up
One night stranded with a stranger in fear for their lives, drove Tori and Ash together, only to be parted the next morning. Now, more than a year later, Ash has found her again and discovered she's had his child. Determined to acknowledge his son and provide for the feisty yet sometimes fragile woman who attracts him as no other, Ash, now Sheikh Ashraf, suggests a marriage of convenience and invites her to his homeland. Tori, determined her son with know both his parents, reluctantly agrees, but is determined to resist capitulating and entering a loveless marriage.

Smooch  -

Ashraf scooped her closer, his hard frame solid muscle against her wet body. Tori clung tight, one hand clutching his robe, the other slipping from his grasp to slide up the back of his neck.

She heard a muffled grunt of approval as her fingers channelled through thick hair to splay possessively over the back of his head.

Tori’s tongue danced with his, hunger cresting as she went up on her toes, trying to meld herself to him. His taste, his scent, his mouth were achingly familiar, as if it was just a few days since they’d made love.

Had they kissed like this in the desert? Surely not. Then they’d been strangers. Ashraf didn’t feel like a stranger now. Remarkable to think they’d been together for such a short time, for it seemed they knew each other at some deep level beyond words. He was the man who filled her thoughts and dreams. Who had done so since that night together. He was the one man who’d woken her dormant libido after the rigours and exhaustion of pregnancy and motherhood.

The man she needed as she’d never before needed anyone. The realisation made her freeze in his embrace.

Instantly he lifted his head, eyes glinting like black gems as they searched her face.

Tori heard the stertorous rasp of heavy breathing, felt her lungs heave and the push of his chest against her breasts as he too hauled in oxygen. Reaction juddered down her backbone and quivered across her skin. Being so close to him, touching him, undid her carefully cultivated caution. It allowed something wild inside her to take hold.

The air was smoky with desire, thick and scented with arousal. Yet the unspoken question was clear in Ashraf’s expression.

Did she want to stop?

Emotion swelled. As strong even as the desire emblazoned in her bones. Tenderness for this man who put her needs before his own.

Tori shivered at the enormity of her feelings. Yet she shied from investigating them too closely.

Ashraf straightened and pulled away. He’d misread her.

‘No!’ She fastened both hands on his shoulders, fingers digging into fine cotton, pads of muscle and beneath that, implacable bone. ‘Don’t.’

‘Don’t kiss you, or—?’

‘Don’t stop.’

Yet instead of closing the gap Ashraf surveyed her as if he felt none of her urgency. Only the flare of his nostrils betrayed he’d been affected too.

‘So there’s at least one thing about me you approve of.’

He wanted to talk? Frustration surged and suspicion.

‘Are you fishing for compliments?’

She spied a flicker of movement at the corner of his mouth and a tingle of delight teased her.

     ‘No. But I’ll take any you want to throw my way.’ His lips firmed. ‘You’re not a woman easily swept off her feet, Victoria Miranda Nilsson.’

I do hope you enjoy SHEIKH'S ROYAL BABY REVELATION! Leave a comment on this post to go in the draw to win a an autographed copy (no geographic restrictions).

In this story Tori is a geologist who'd been to the desert doing a survey for a mining company. It's a profession that's still male dominated and I enjoyed writing about a competent woman in that field. What occupation would you like to see for a romance heroine, or hero for that matter?

By the way, this is book 1 in my 'Royal Brides for Desert Brothers' miniseries. It's a standalone story, but if you'd like to find out what happens to Ashraf's brother, Karim, look out for DEMANDING HIS DESERT QUEEN. 

Come back next Sunday, when the winner of today's giveaway will be announced and another smooch will be posted!

Smooch Graphic by WebWeaver

Sunday Smooch with Amy Andrews

Welcome to another LoveCats DownUnder Sunday Smooch!


Today we have a smooch from Amy Andrews but first......the winner of last week's Sunday Smooch Giveaway is .... Mary Preston!




Mary, can you please contact Michelle at michelle (at) michelle-douglas (dot) com to receive your prize!







And now for today's Sunday Smooch from The Kissing Contract!

Marshall Dyson wants one thing and one thing only: to raze his grandfather’s island to the ground. Everything is ready to go—except for the freakin’ bunnies! Hundreds of the furry critters hopping about and multiplying before his eyes. And then there’s the American Bunny League, along with one distractingly beautiful veterinarian, taking him to court to save them...
Dr. Augusta “Gus” North can’t believe the grumpy—and annoyingly hot—builder she’s facing in court cares more about demo-ing some cabin than the lives of 200 bunnies. But when the judge orders Marshall to stay on the island and help her rehome the rabbits—the entire month—she knows they’re going to need to lay some ground rules.
Like, for example, absolutely no kissing. Might as well go ahead and get that in writing. Sure it’s on a napkin, but that still counts.
How hard could it be to keep their hands off each other amidst all the fighting? Surprisingly, harder than wrangling 200 bunnies...

Scene set-up

Augusta shows up at Marshall's work site to deliver him his adopted rabbit, Thumper. It's the first time they've seen each other since the island and things get really heated, really quickly....


Smooch  -

A guy ran over from a truck, where he’d been talking to the driver, a frown on his face. “Lady…” he said, raising his voice a little, “you’re not supposed to be on site without permission and a hard hat.”

“Oh…right, sorry.” Gus also raised her voice. “I was just looking for Marshall. I mean…Mr. Dyson.”

The guy laughed. “Mr. Dyson? He’s over there.” He pointed to a group huddled around some plans before putting two less than clean fingers in his mouth and whistled. It was a piercing noise that cut above the din, and a bunch more men looked.

Including Marshall.

He was dressed pretty much like everyone else in heavy-duty pants, boots, a high visibility vest, and hard hat, but he was Marshall and her heart clunked in her chest as he stood and stared. Gus knew the feelings swelling inside her were more than just missing him feelings or even falling for him feelings.

They were fallen really hard feelings. Crap.

Suddenly, he was striding toward her, and Gus’s stomach clenched and her knees knocked as his long legs chewed up the distance. Sunglasses hid his gaze, so she couldn’t read him, but his stride was purposeful and…intent.

“Someone to see you, Mr. Dyson,” the guy said with a grin as Marshall drew level with them.

His eyes may have been hidden, but Gus could feel his gaze burning into hers. “Piss off, Brett,” Marshall said.

The guy saluted. “Yes, sir, Mr. Dyson, sir,” he said, and ambled off unhurriedly, chuckling to himself. He joined a huddle of men who clearly had no intention of getting back to work while there was a woman in stilettos, holding a rabbit in a cage, talking to the boss.

Marshall whipped his sunglasses off and Gus’s pulse leapt as his indigo gaze latched hungrily onto hers. He was cleanly shaven and it took her back to that day in court. Man, had a lot of water flowed under the bridge since then.

“What’s up, doc?” Then he grinned. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Gus smiled. “I thought I’d hand-deliver your new best friend.” She held up the cage, but Marshall barely paid Thumper any attention.

His eyes roved over, and he shook his head. “It had to be the skirt? And the heels?”

Yeah, she shouldn’t have. But the Devil had ridden her this morning when she’d been deciding what to wear. She probably wouldn’t have if she’d known she was going to end up on a construction site, but the heat in his eyes as he looked at her made her decision worthwhile.

Not to mention curling her toes. She shrugged. “This old thing?”

Grinning, he shook his head. Reaching for the cage with one hand, he relieved her of it while circling her upper arm with the other. “Let’s take this somewhere more private, shall we?”

His tug was gentle but firm and, aware of their audience, Gus followed meekly. But her legs had started shaking again and her heart was rattling almost as loudly as the jackhammer in her ears.

Towing her toward the trailer, he opened the door for her and said, “Inside.”

Gus didn’t argue, walking up the two steps and entering the trailer, conscious of him following into the room. She looked around—two desks covered in paperwork complete with coffee ring stains, a filing cabinet with a box of tools on top, several hard plastic chairs, walls devoid of any decoration, and layers of dust clinging to all the surfaces.

Two pedestal fans, with rivulets of grime clinging to their cages, pushed warm air around the room. A wash basin that had clearly never been cleaned stood next to a bar fridge on top of which was a coffee percolator, the pot half full.

To say it reeked of testosterone was an understatement.

She stepped to the side and he brushed past, her body lurching at the slight caress as he put the cage down behind the far desk and quickly washed his hands.

“Shut the door.”

Gus did as he asked, the construction noise muffling instantly. So much for not being alone with him in an office. Turning to face Marshall, she leaned her back against the door, watching as he dried his hands on some paper towels then crossed to the window, where he reached for the cord of the blinds. With a quick pull, they dropped down.

A twist of his wrist and the slats snapped shut.

The room dimmed a little, stray fingers of sunlight still managing to poke in around the edges of the covering. His eyes met hers and locked as he took off his hard hat, ruffling his hair with one hand as he threw the hat on the nearest desk with the other.

“No, leave it,” she said, her voice husky with nerves and the way his gaze was eating her up. “I like it. Very blue collar.”

“Another time,” he growled, prowling towards her.

Gus pressed her knees together as he approached. Everything inside her heated, melted, liquefied. She shouldn’t be here with him, like this. No good could come of it.

He stopped in front of her, just out of reach. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he said, his eyes roving over her face. “Better speak up if you’re not down with that.”

Gus knew she should speak up. Knew she should move. She’d fallen for a man who came with a built-in expiration date. But she did neither.

She didn’t want to move. She wanted him to kiss her.

He nodded and muttered, “Okay then,” taking that last step toward her, slipping one hand onto her hip, cupping the other around her jaw, his mouth swooping down to claim hers in a hard, hot, hungry kiss.

Her head thunked back against the door at the force of it and sparkles of color popped behind her eyes. Her pulse thrummed through her veins as she grabbed for his shoulders, pulling him closer, his hand slid to her ass and hitched her closer again, her heels high enough to bring their hips into alignment.

He groaned against her mouth. He tasted like coffee and smelled like sunshine and shampoo, and her nose filled with the scent and the flavor of him as she kissed him back harder and hotter.

But it wasn’t enough. She squirmed against him, needing him closer. Needing more of him.

All of him.

As if he could read her mind, his hand was at her waist, pulling her blouse out of her skirt and his palm was pushing under the fabric, big and hot on her skin as it smoothed up, up, up until it hit the fleshy satin rise of her breast, and then he was squeezing and kneading and pulling the cup aside, his fingers taunting her aching nipple.

Gus gasped, breaking their lip lock as they squeezed. She arched and cried out and he kissed her again and again and again, his hands making short work of her buttons before groping for the zipper at the back of her skirt.

“Up,” she said, panting against his mouth. “Up is easier.”

F0r a chance to win a digitial copy of The Kissing Contract leave an answer to the question in the comments and come back next week for the announcement of the winner and another Smooch!

Question - hard hat yes, or hard hat no? :-)

RITA smooch

Welcome to another LoveCats DownUnder Sunday Smooch!

Today we have a smooch from Michelle's RITA-nominated romance The Million Pound Marriage Deal but first...


... the winner of last week's Sunday Smooch Giveaway is JennyW!


Jenny you please contact maggie on: maggiechritensen (at) maggiechristensenauthor (dot) com to receive your prize


And now for today's Sunday Smooch from The Million Pound Marriage Deal...

 A marriage of convenience...
With a price!

Billionaire playboy Will Trent-Paterson has one year to get married. His grandfather will disinherit him if he doesn't settle down, leaving his vulnerable sister homeless! So when old friend Sophie Mitchell jokes that she'd marry him for a million pounds, a temporary marriage seems like the perfect solution! Until, after spending time with captivating Sophie, Will realizes walking away will be the hardest part...

[Scene set-up: Will and Sophie are about to appear for the first time as an engaged couple and they're "practicing" at trying to appear as natural as possible when, in fact, they're both feeling impossibly awkward.]


 ‘If we mess this up. If we lose our heads and forget ourselves…just once…then we’re not going to want to see each other again.’
  Her words were like a punch to the gut. Because they were true.
  ‘It’s what I meant when I said we were playing a dangerous game.’ Her eyes flashed. ‘If you found me unattractive that would be—’ She broke off. ‘But you don’t.’
  And he realised then what she’d made explicit but had left unsaid. She didn’t find him unattractive either. The knowledge made his blood roar.
  Hell.
  He ground his back molars together and counted to three, pulled in a breath. ‘You have my word that I won’t lose my head.’
  He would not let her down.
  ‘And you have my word.’
  They had to be cautious, circumspect. He couldn’t let himself feel too comfortable with her…and yet they both had to cultivate an appearance of tranquillity with each other for outside eyes. She was right. This could be trickier than he’d first envisaged. But not impossible.
  Before he knew what she was about she’d leaned in, stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his cheek. ‘Thank you.’
  His heart crashed in his chest. His cheek burned where her lips had touched him.
  She eased back, adjusted her cardigan. ‘Right. Your turn.’
  She was trying to make kissing him as natural as possible, and he had to do the same. ‘Believe it or not,’ he said, ‘it’s my pleasure.’
  He pressed a kiss to her brow and tried not to notice how soft and warm and vibrant she felt beneath his lips.
  She huffed out a laugh. ‘Well, in that case I choose to believe it. Right, sit.’
  She gestured to the sofa and he took a seat. She came from behind. Her arms slid around his shoulders, making him start.
  ‘You do that downstairs and you’ll give the game away.’
  He nodded and gritted his teeth. ‘Do it again.’
  She eased back, walked away, and then moved towards him again and bent down to slide just one arm about his shoulders. He rested his hand on her forearm and felt a tiny tremor run through her. He pulled in a measured breath and her scent flooded his senses. ‘You smell nice.’
  Nice? That’s the best you can manage?
  She smelled sensational—fruity and warm, like Christmas. Though Christmas was months away.
  ‘It’s my body lotion. Frosted cherry. My favourite.’
  They broke apart at exactly the same moment. This was exhausting, but he saw the wisdom of it. They needed to give the impression that they were physically comfortable with each other.
  When nothing could be further from the truth.
  ‘Your turn.’ He waved her to the armchair.
  She sat, leaned back, crossed her legs—for all the world as if she were completely at ease.
  Time for them to get this over and done with.
  Her eyes widened when he braced his hands on the arms of the chair and leant down towards her, effectively locking her in and leaving her nowhere to escape. ‘Lips?’
  She glanced at his lips and then back into his eyes and nodded. ‘Dry lips,’ she whispered. ‘And we keep it brief.’
  Every cell in his body burst to life. He recited, Peter’s sister, Peter’s sister, Peter’s sister, over and over in his mind. ‘I want to tell you something before we do this,’ he murmured, his gaze not dropping from hers.
  ‘She swallowed. ‘Okay.’
  ‘You’re wrong. I like you just fine, Sophie Mitchell.’
  Her lips parted as if in shock. He couldn’t resist the pull any longer. His mouth lowered to hers, lips brushing lips—light, teasing and nowhere near enough. She stiffened, but then he felt her force herself to relax. And then she leaned forward a fraction and pressed her lips more firmly against his and kissed him back.
  Wind roared in his ears. It took all the strength he had to not deepen the kiss, to not engage lips, mouths, tongues and hands.
  Biting back a groan, he pulled back to stare into stunned blue eyes. They were a deeper shade of blue than he’d ever seen before.
  She pushed him away and launched herself from the chair like a horse from a starter’s gate. ‘We better keep that to a minimum.’
  She was darn right they were keeping that to a minimum!
  He’d kiss her cheek, her brow, the top of her head, her hand, but he had every intention of staying as far away from those lips as possible. They were lethal!
 

I'm currently away in New York -- Yay! And I'm so looking forward to living it up at the RITA Awards ceremony. Leave a comment to go into the draw to win a copy of The Million Pound Marriage Deal, and I'll make sure to send it as soon as I return home. 

Come back next Sunday, when the winner of today's giveaway will be announced and a smooch from Amy Andrews will be posted!

Smooch Graphic by WebWeaver

Sunday Smooch winner!

We don't have a Sunday Smooch scheduled for today, but the winner of last week's smooch and a copy of A Baby in His In-Tray is Pammie S.

 

 

Congratulations, Pammie!!!

 

Send Michelle an email at michelle (at) michelle-douglas (dot) com to receive your prize.

 

Sunday Smooch: HOLT Medallion nominee

Welcome to another LoveCats DownUnder Sunday Smooch!

Today we have a smooch from Michelle Douglas but first the winner of last week's Sunday Smooch Giveaway is...Jan VanEngen.


Congratulations Jan! Can you please contact Clare: clareconnelly (at) outlook (dot) com to receive your copy of Shock Heir for the King.






 And now for a retro Sunday Smooch from A Baby in His In-Tray -- a finalist in this year's HOLT Medallion!

Taking care of baby

With the boss!

When Liv Gilmour's identical twin sister begs her to take her place for a week to work for business hotshot Lord Sebastian Tyrrell, she can't say no--after all, the boss will be away. Until someone abandons a baby with a note demanding Sebastian take care of it. Suddenly Sebastian's swift return sees Liv up close and personal with the sexy boss...and a baby who needs them both!

Normally I'd give a scene set-up, but in this case I fear it'd give away too many spoilers. So I'll just let the kiss stand on it's own merits. ;-)


The sure pressure of Seb’s lips on Liv’s, the way his fingers cradled her head as if she were made of something fine and precious, completely undid her, crumbling any resistance she might’ve put up.

Resistance? There was no thought of resistance. Kissing Seb was the most exciting, wonderful thing she’d ever done! She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him back with everything she had.

For a moment he seemed to bend under the onslaught of her wholehearted enthusiasm, like a tree in the wind, but he came back with a force that had the potential to fell them both.

‘Seb.’ His name whispered from her lips. She couldn’t help it. She wanted to say his name over and over. She wanted to whisper it to the stars.

Warm lips pressed kisses to her throat, teeth scraping gently across the delicate skin there. Her knees trembled, her legs threatening to buckle beneath her, but his arm slid about her waist to hold her upright…and so very close. She pressed herself even closer. Under her hands, his shoulders flexed—broad and strong. She traced her hands up the strong column of his neck, the stubble on his cheek scraping her palms as she urged his mouth back to hers.

He kissed her so thoroughly, so completely and shockingly explicitly that a fire burst into flaming life and engulfed them both, and all she could do was hold on and try to keep up with him.

Kissing him was like being on a roller coaster. And yet it was like being wrapped in a warm blanket too. It was like flying, but it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Exotic and forbidden scents should be swirling all around them…as well as the scent of baking bread and sunshine-scented soap. She expected to hear fireworks exploding…alongside birdsong. Kissing Seb was all things exciting…and all things warm and welcoming.

It made no sense, and it made all sense.

She fitted into his arms perfectly, as she’d known she would. And she knew that if they were naked they’d fit even more perfectly. And she wanted that. She craved it with every atom, sinew and fibre. Ecstasy sparked to life wherever he touched…and aches and burnings and yearnings. She pressed herself against him to try and assuage the need engulfing her.

‘God, Eliza.’

It wasn’t his ragged breathing or the hoarseness of his voice that made her freeze. Eliza. She wasn’t Eliza. She wasn’t who he thought she was.

She pushed away from him with all her strength. ‘No!’

The single word rang around the room, dispelling her ludicrous notion of fireworks and birdsong. He released her immediately. ‘Eliza…?’

She’d let him kiss her when he thought she was someone else. She’d kissed him back. What kind of person did that make her?

Amazon

iBooks

Barnes & Noble

Harlequin

I adore this book so I'm super excited it has been named a finalist in the HOLT Medallion. To go into the draw to win a signed copy of A Baby in His In-Tray just leave a comment:  Have you ever won anything? I used to dream about winning a holiday to a dream location -- which never happened. But I did win a meat tray last month and that made me ridiculously happy. :-)

Come back next Sunday, when the winner of today's giveaway will be announced!

Smooch Graphic by WebWeaver

Sunday Smooch with Amy Andrews

Welcome to another LoveCats DownUnder Sunday Smooch!











Today we have a smooch from Amy Andrews but first ..... the winner of last week's Sunday Smooch Giveaway is Gill Bower!

Gill, can you please contact Michelle at michelle (at) michelle-douglas (dot) com to receive your prize!


And now for today's Sunday Smooch from Nothing But Trouble.

For five years, Cecilia Morgan’s entire existence has revolved around playing personal assistant to self-centered former NFL quarterback Wade Carter. But just when she finally gives her notice, his father’s health fails, and Wade whisks her back to his hometown. CC will stay for his dad—for now—even if that means ignoring how sexy her boss is starting to look in his Wranglers.

To say CC’s notice is a bombshell is an insult to bombs. Wade can’t imagine his life without his “left tackle.” She’s the only person who can tell him “no” and strangely, it’s his favorite quality. He’ll do anything to keep her from leaving, even if it means playing dirty and dragging her back to Credence, Colorado, with him.

But now they’re living under the same roof, getting involved in small-town politics, and bickering like an old married couple. Suddenly, five years of fighting is starting to feel a whole lot like foreplay. What’s a quarterback to do when he realizes he might be falling for his “left tackle”? Throw a Hail Mary she’ll never see coming, of course.

Scene set-up

CC is walking home from a Credence street party after dancing with Wade and feeling stuff she should not be feeling especially after that very inconvenient sex dream she had about him! Wade catches up with her, scaring her half to death right into a hedge. Recovering from her ignomoy, he walks her home.  Then on the front porch a spider happens and thats when things really get interesting!

“Listen,” he said, as she coaxed the old lock which needed a bit of a jiggle and a certain tongue position before it would admit anyone. “Thanks for helping my mom with this whole thing.”

The lock gave and the door opened but CC wasn’t paying it any attention as she quirked an eyebrow at Wade. “I thought you were annoyed that I was spending all that time on your - let’s see if I can get this right - mother’s crazy ass scheme to pimp out strange women to the bachelors of Credence.”

He chuckled, unperturbed by having his words thrown back at him. “I may have been exaggerating for dramatic effect.”

CC’s eyebrow kicked up. “Ya think?”

“I was wrong.”

CC shook her head. Wade’s ability to apologize had always been his redeeming grace. He was man enough to own his mistakes.

“Who knows...” He shrugged. “It might just work.”

“Could I have that in writing?” she asked sweetly.

He grinned down at her, the deep grooves bracketing his mouth adding an extra layer of sexy and CC’s breath hitched. Just as suddenly, though, his smile faded and his gaze grew serious as it trekked slowly north and zeroed in on her bangs.  

“CC...” He put up a hand in a stopping motion. “Stay. Very. Still.”

CC froze. “What? Why?” Adrenaline surged into her system as Wade’s hand slowly moved towards her hair. Keeping her head still she looked up trying to see what he was seeing even though part of her did not want to know.

“Wade,” she hissed. “What?”

“I think you collected a spider when you were parlaying with that hedge.”A wild surge of fear cramped through her diaphragm. Spider. Jesus, she hated spiders. “Don’t move.”

Despite wanting to jump up and down, shake her head and brush wildly at her hair like a mad woman, screaming, “Get it off, get if off,” she doubted she was capable of moving.

She turned her eyeballs upwards again suddenly seeing in her peripheral vision, what Wade was seeing. The creep of skinny legs traversing her bangs like the spider was already setting up house.

“Oh god, get it off!”

He chuckled as he stepped closer, his fingers at face level and descending slowly. Heat poured off his body but CC was oblivious to everything but the frantic beat of her pulse rushing like a waterfall through her ears.

“Is it big?”

“Nah. It’s only a baby. It’s quite cute actually.”

Cute? She glared at him. Or as much as she could with her head straight and her eyes practically rolled back in their sockets trying to monitor the progress of her unwanted arachnid visitor.

CC clamped her teeth together. “Get. It. Off. Me.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, yeah.”

He slid a hand onto her nape. Probably to stop her from taking matters into her own hands and doing the wild, hand-flapping, spider jig which every primal instinct she owned was urging her to do.  

CC shut her eyes tight as he reached for the uninvited creature with his other hand, not wanting to watch as a live spider was plucked from her hair. The thought of having to touch it herself gave her the heebie jeebies and she was grateful Wade was volunteering.

Even if it was his fault she’d ended up in the damn hedge.

She felt a light brush against her forehead and squeezed her eyes even tighter, tensing everything so tight she doubted she’d have been able to squeeze a credit card between her butt cheeks. “Is it gone?”

Another chuckle, the warm fan of his breath on her face. “It’s gone.”

CC slowly opened her eyes and unclenched, Wade coming into hazy focus, looking at her with amusement sparking in his gaze.

“I didn’t know you were an arachnophobe.”

She’d already told him tonight he didn’t know everything about her, she wasn’t going there again. Besides, his closeness, his intense gaze, the way his thumb was stoking at her nape was more than enough to deal with at the moment.

Her heart was beating entirely differently now. He was so big. She was so used to seeing him, to being around him, she sometimes forgot how big he was. Hard to ignore the span of his chest from this close, though.

She should be moving away. She knew that. In fact, somewhere her wiser angels were telling her just that - screaming it at her, actually. But his stubble and the sexy indents around his mouth and the softness of his lips were dangerously fascinating.

Their gazes meshed for a beat or two and she couldn’t look away as his dropped, drifting to her mouth. As if he was going to kiss her. The stroking of his thumb halted and they just stared at each other. They stayed so still for so long, the sensor light went out, plunging them into darkness again. CC’s breath grew thick as the night surrounded them, her body throbbing with awareness and need.

“Cecilia,” he whispered.

Just like in her dream.

And that was enough. In a blinding flash CC threw out caution and almost six years of professional boundaries, rose on her tip toes and kissed him.

He met her half way, their lips clashing in a frantic mash, opening wide, tasting and searching and demanding everything from the other. It was no tentative starter, no teaser, no slow and steady. It was on fire from the first touch of mouth on mouth and it was far sexier than anything he had done to her in her dream life.

He tasted better, his body against hers felt better, he smelled better and he sounded better, groaning deep in his throat. She felt that groan all the way to her toes and every hot spot in between. His spider catching hand, slid onto her hip, hitching her closer as the hand at her nape held her fast.

The movement must have tripped the sensor because the portico flooded with light again and it was like bolt of lightning had hit them, repelling them for each other, forcing them apart, forcing them two steps back.

CC gasped in horror. Holding her hands up in front of her she contemplated what the hell had just happened as her heart beat a wild tango in her chest. It was no consolation that Wade looked just as stunned.

What had she done? She’d kissed Wade. And he’d kissed her back. This was not good.

Not. Good.

Wade recovered first, taking a step towards her. “CC –”

“No.” She shook her head taking a step back her hands up higher now almost level with her ears. Whatever he was going to say, she couldn’t deal with right now. Her cheeks were flushed and she was hot all over.

Sweet baby Jesus! He was her boss! And she wanted to die. “I’m so, so sorry...” CC desperately tried to come up with some justification for her actions to follow her apology. Like being in post-arachnid shock or temporary possession by the devil. But nothing – not even the clear and present need for exorcism - justified crossing the line she’d just crossed. The line that she had drawn all those years ago.

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice calm and placating, as if she was some kind of incendiary device primed to go off at any second.

CC shook her head vehemently. How could be so damn composed? How was kissing him ever okay? God...she just wanted to hit the erase button.

Yes. That was it. The erase button. Or the next best thing.

“Do you think,” she asked, locking her gaze with his, “it might be possible to never speak of this again?”

If they couldn’t erase it they could at least pretend it never happened, right?

“Sure.” He nodded, his voice still placatory. “Whatever you need.”

What she needed was a time machine but this would have to do. “Thank you.”

Then she turned on her heel, shoulder checking the door open as she hurried inside, her shaky legs carrying her up the stairs and into her bedroom where she burrowed under the covers and curled into a ball.

Sweet mother of pearl. What she done?

What. Had. She. Done?

Okay so, I'm a huge arachnophobe! Are you spiders yes or spiders no? Let me know in the comments and you'll go into the draw to win a digtial copy of Nothing But Trouble! 

  
Come back next Sunday, when the winner of today's giveaway will be announced and a new smooch will be posted!

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