A Secret Worth Keeping?. Robyn Donald

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her hands. ‘You’re too big.’

      Her eyes met his and the air between them sizzled.

      She was wrong. This wasn’t silly. This was way beyond silly. ‘Ten reps. Go.’ He just wanted them out of the way now.

      She pushed at his shoulders and he mentally worked his way through every component of a car engine as they moved in unison. He could feel her hot breath on his neck as she exhaled and he dared not look at anything but the sand above her head.

      Of all the lame-brain things to do...

      He paused when he felt her weaken, intent on pushing himself away from her, but he made the mistake of looking down into eyes that had gone indigo with desire.

      The sound of seagulls squalling couldn’t even distract him from the hunger that burned a hole in his belly.

      Her hands slipped down his arms, shaping his muscles, and her eyes drifted to his mouth. ‘Valentino...’

      Her husky plea weakened him more than fifty reps with twenty-five-pound dumbbells could and, groaning deep in his chest, he lowered his head and captured her soft mouth with his own.

      * * *

      Miller was aware of every hard inch of Valentino’s male flesh pressing her into the sand. Her own body throbbing as if it was on fire, totally drugged by his heat, his smell, his taste. She couldn’t remember why this was a bad idea. No rational words remained in her head to rein in her pleasure-fuelled body. Her arousal with him in bed earlier had returned full-force.

      Impatient with a need she’d never felt before, she swept her hands down his back and then smoothed them up under his sweaty shirt. He groaned approvingly and with his elbows either side of her face cradled the back of her head, angling her so that his skilful mouth could ravage her lips, his moist tongue plundering and duelling with her own in a way that made the ache between her legs become almost painful.

      She felt his other hand drift over her torso, feather-light as if learning her shape, his fingertips moving closer and closer to the tip of one breast. Moaning, Miller twisted in his hold, her body begging for more of his touch. She felt him smile against her mouth, his lips drifting over her jaw and down the column of her throat.

      ‘Please, Valentino...’ she pleaded, her body craving a release she had never experienced during sex but which now seemed infinitely possible. Infinitely desirable.

      Obliging her, his hand rose over her breast, cupping her, his thumb flicking back and forth over her nipple at the same time as his teeth bit down on the straining, sensitive cord of her neck.

      Miller cried out, jerking beneath him. Her body was liquid with need, her hips arching towards his, her mind completely focused on one outcome.

      His fingers plucked more firmly at her nipple and her fingernails unconsciously scored the tight muscles of his lower back.

      He shifted sideways and she whimpered in protest. Then his hand slid lower, and she stopped breathing as he cupped between her legs.

      ‘Miller—’

      She didn’t want him to speak. She just wanted to lose herself in these magic sensations. She dragged his mouth back to hers, her tongue instantly gratified by the warm wetness of his deep, soul-destroying kiss. Her body was close, so close, and she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.

      ‘Oh!’

      His hand slipped beneath the hem of her shorts and knickers and then his fingers parted her and lightly stroked her swollen flesh. He groaned into her mouth, pressed deep at the same time as Miller pressed upwards, and that was all it took for her to tumble over the edge. She gripped his shoulders and wrenched her mouth from his, gasping for oxygen as her body disintegrated into a million wonderful pieces.

      For a while nothing happened, and then she became aware of the sound of Valentino’s harsh breathing above her own panting breaths, the seagulls squalling overhead.

      When she finally managed to open her eyes she found him looking down at her with an open hunger that made her feel instantly panicked.

      Oh, God... ‘What have I done?’

      ‘I believe it’s called having an orgasm,’ he mocked, clearly understanding the horrified expression on her face. ‘Followed closely by feeling regret.’

      Regret? Did she regret it? She didn’t even know. But all the reasons this was not a good idea rushed back like a blast of cold water from a hose.

      Public beach. Playboy. Promotion.

      If she could bury her head in the sand right now she would.

      A seagull squawked close by and Miller jumped. ‘You have to get off me.’

      ‘I’m not actually on you.’

      He was right. His body hovered beside her, shielding her from any prying eyes at TJ’s house some way along the beach, but he wasn’t holding her down.

      Miller scrambled to a sitting position and looked over his shoulder. They were still alone. Thank God.

      ‘I said I wasn’t going to have sex with you,’ she spat at him accusingly. She knew full well that she was equally responsible for what had just happened between them, but was still unable to fully take in the sensations rippling through her body. ‘This never happened,’ she said firmly, her emotions as brittle as an empty seashell.

      His eyebrows drew together and his features were taut. ‘Not part of your plan, Sunshine?’

      ‘You know it wasn’t.’ She hated the sarcastic tilt to his lips.

      ‘Believe me, it’s not part of mine either.’ He pushed himself to a sitting position and deftly removed his runners and socks. Then he dragged his T-shirt up over his chest and Miller’s insides, still soft and pliant, clenched alarmingly.

      His easy acceptance of her brush-off was slightly insulting, and the illogical nature of that thought wasn’t lost on her in the heat of the moment. In fact, it only made her more irritable. But whether at him or herself she wasn’t sure.

      She watched him jog down to the shoreline and gracefully duck dive beneath an incoming wave. Thank God she didn’t like him very much. She wasn’t ready to change her life for a man, and some deep feminine instinct warned her that being with him intimately, even once, would be life-changing.

      She sighed. At least for her it would be. For him life would no doubt go on as normal.

       CHAPTER SEVEN

      TJ TIPPED his Akubra back from his forehead and rocked forward on his chair, and Miller knew the presentation she and Dexter had just delivered hadn’t gone well.

      ‘Miller, you’re a talented girl, no doubt about it,’ he drawled, in a condescending tone that set Miller’s teeth on edge. ‘But I told Winston International I’d give their show another shot.’

      What?

      Miller narrowed her eyes, sensing Dexter’s

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