The Kissing Season. Rachael Johns

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erection? Alarm bells sounded loud and clear in her head. What the hell was she doing kissing a potential client in Elliot’s showroom? Or a rapist? Not that she knew much about rapists, but she watched the news, they were out there. As if sensing her sudden retreat, he did something illegal with his tongue, making her bones melt, leaving her wanting a lot more than one kiss.

      Hell, Hannah!

      Never mind the rapist, what the heck was she doing kissing anyone? Horrified and shamed by her wanton actions, she gave him a hard shove. He barely moved with her effort but his eyes blinked open and his lips leaped back from hers as he scanned her face.

      “Get off me,” she panted, thinking that she should feel violated when all she felt was hot, turned-on and flustered. Not good.

      “Sorry.” The guy obeyed her immediately, rolling over to free her from his clutches. He wiped her pink strawberry-flavored lip gloss from his mouth and stood up.

      She remained prostrate on the mattress, too shell-shocked by what had just occurred to make a move.

      “I’ll take the bed,” he said, digging in his pocket, presumably for his wallet.

      “I should think so.” Her heart finally made an effort to return to normal speed but she feared it’d be a while before her temperature did the same. Somehow she managed to pull herself together enough for her brain to give the instructions for her legs to stand.

      “And those.” He pointed to a nightstand and dressing table that matched the bed, before taking a quick stroll around the rest of the showroom and picking out a number of pieces. She had to jog to keep up as she pressed little yellow sold stickers onto everything he pointed at.

      “Did your house burn down or something?” She could think of no other reason why someone would go out and buy so much furniture with so little thought. “Or did you win the lottery?”

      He chuckled and she prayed he’d hurry up and finish this crazy shopping spree so she could begin to forget him and the feel of his big beautiful body mashed against hers. “None of the above. I’ve just bought a house in the area and I need to furnish it. I’m also the type of man who doesn’t like to waste time, and I know what I want when I see it.”

      Why did she get the feeling he wasn’t talking about the furniture?

      “Fair enough.” She shrugged as if she really didn’t care either way and placed a sticker on the coffee table he’d just earmarked. She guessed he was one of the many rich business people choosing southwest Australia—amid the forests and wineries, seconds from the coast—as their place of residence.

      “I think that’ll be it for now. Do you do home delivery?”

      “Of course.” Shaun, her youngest brother, would have to do at least two trips in their truck with this load. She smiled at the thought, suddenly realizing how good this sale was going to make her look when Luke returned. “Let’s take a seat so I can finalize your order.”

      Not waiting for another word from the Italian, Hannah headed straight for the sales counter, determined not to look him in the eyes for fear she’d forget all her resolutions yet again.

      His long legs had him just behind her. As she sat in the swivel chair, he slapped his platinum AmEx card down in front of her and smiled. She glanced up and even though she recognized that smile as one perfected for a hundred ladies before her, it had the power to unravel need deep within. Ignoring that need—or at least trying to—she found his name on the credit card and almost swooned. Matteo Della Bosca. It was the perfect name for all the tall, dark gorgeousness in front of her.

      He didn’t ask for the price and she forgot to give it to him, but as she slipped his card into the machine, he spoke. “Would you like to go out to dinner with me?”

      She almost fell off her chair in shock. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” She looked up and met his gaze for the first time since their kiss. She had no idea why his request surprised her. He’d been making sweet eyes at her the moment he walked through the door. But her world had shifted recently and she kept forgetting no one else knew her secret.

      “I said—” he cleared his throat and smiled “—would you like to come out to dinner with me?”

      Yes please was on the tip of her tongue. But ignoring the raging disappointment of her libido, she swallowed her instinctive reply. “No, thank you,” she said instead. Her time for men—especially men as dangerous as this one—was finished.

      * * *

      MATTEO DELLA BOSCA, known mostly as Matt, knew if he intended to settle down and find Miss Right, he’d have to stop indulging in spur-of-the-moment activities such as this one. Unfortunately that was his mother’s wish for him; he was quite happy with the status quo. He hadn’t yet met a woman who made him want to change his carefree ways. His mum believed he couldn’t just kiss every girl he felt like kissing, and frequently begged him to stop what she called his Casanova ways and get serious, but he hadn’t been able to help himself with this one. In fact, he’d been more impulsive than usual, not even pausing to question if she was available.

      The smile as she returned his card didn’t meet her eyes and he couldn’t believe his ears when she rejected him. That kiss had been smoldering, and he knew he wasn’t the only one to think so.

      “Are you married?” he asked. “Engaged? In love with the boy next door?”

      He swore he saw the corner of her lips crinkle with amusement and although he felt the pull of victory, she didn’t let such feelings go any further.

      “Nope, none of the above.” Then added, “I’m simply not interested.” Holding her pretty chin high, she pushed a piece of paper in front of him. “Sign here.”

      He didn’t believe she wasn’t interested and had a good mind to kiss her again just to prove it. Instead, he slipped his card back inside his wallet and leaned forward to sign the paperwork.

      As he scrawled his signature, she turned back to the computer. “Your address, please?”

      Without glancing up, he said, “Why do you want to know? Planning to stalk me?”

      “Uhh, no. I need it to give to the delivery driver.”

      Damn. He closed his eyes as he cursed silently and wondered where the hell he’d misplaced his cool. He didn’t usually use such shocking lines. “Wishful thinking, I guess.” And it was best to move on quickly from such a low point. “I’ve just bought a place on the beach.” He rattled off the address of an old shack that had been renovated to look like something out of movie set. His mum had always dreamed of living somewhere that overlooked the Indian Ocean, but her deadbeat husband would never have managed to scrape together the dough. He’d barely left her enough to cover the costs of his funeral.

      “Ahh, I think I know it. Pretty place.”

      Something the house and you have in common. Luckily he managed to bite his tongue before he looked the fool. Who said things like that? Certainly not him. Was it because this cute girl had turned him down so flatly, without any hesitation? He tried to recall a time where any woman had been so hasty to reject him but came up blank. “Yes, it is. Have you lived here long?”

      Although he’d grown up in small town Wildwood Point, he’d lived with his father in Melbourne

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