Perfect Match. Emilie Rose
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“I’m well. Good to see you again, Tate. Excuse me, I need to mingle with the other guests and find my match. Don’t let me keep you from your friends.” She delivered the words in a polite, but chilly, brush-off.
He produced his piece of the puzzle and aligned it with hers. “No need. I’m your man.”
“Match!” shrieked Sandy from the living room, confirming Tate’s matchmaking theory. God bless little sisters. He took back every negative thing he’d ever said about the baby of the family.
“Know what that means, Faith?” He took the tumbler out of her hand and set it on the credenza.
She shifted on her feet and bit her luscious bottom lip. “No.”
“It means we get to simulate the interlocking puzzle pieces with our bodies.” Damn, he couldn’t wait. He barely restrained himself from rubbing his hands in glee.
Scowling, she looked at her piece. It had the jutting male projection, whereas his had the indented female shape. The pieces fit together perfectly-just as he and Faith had that night. A moment passed and then Faith lifted her hands to his shoulders. He cupped her waist, and his heart thumped in expectation of her tongue in his mouth, but then she swiftly lifted her knee toward his groin. He sucked in a swift breath and tensed in anticipation of pain.
She stopped just short of her target. “Need I continue?”
Chapter Two
Faith King watched the gleam in Tate-the snake’s-green eyes turn from seductive to cautious. She ignored the strength and heat of the thick shoulder muscles beneath her hands, lowered her knee and stepped out of reach before the urge to tangle her fingers in his short dark hair and seal her lips to his won out over common sense.
A muscle ticked in Tate’s rock-hard jaw. “You’ve made your point.”
Two years ago she’d been rapidly cartwheeling into love during her brother’s pre-wedding festivities. Tate had been playing a game…or so Faith had learned when she arrived at the church to dress with the bride and the other bridesmaids. The women had been laughing about firefighter Tate’s reputation for starting sensual fires all over town, and wagering on which wedding guest he’d go home with that night. No one had known Faith had just spent the most passionate night of her life in his bed.
In seconds, she’d gone from euphorically believing she’d finally found Mr. Right to the sinking realization that she’d been just another body to Tate Sumner.
Sandy had explained that Tate had wild oats to sow because he’d spent his teens and twenties acting as a father figure to his four younger siblings after their father died. If Faith had doubts about Tate’s interest in a long-term relationship, his wedding toast had certainly clarified them.
“I don’t know why any man under fifty would settle for just one woman, but good luck, pal, and by the way, I’ll break your legs if you hurt my sister.”
“You’re moving to town.” Tate’s direct gaze pinned her in place and caused her pulse to quicken. She’d forgotten how good he smelled and how his brawny build made her feel delicate and protected. She hadn’t forgotten the strength of his arms as he held her, but not for lack of trying on her part. Nor had she forgotten he was a charmer like her father.
“Yes. I wanted to be near David, Sandy and my soon-to-be-born niece. I’ve accepted a position as a physician’s assistant at the hospital.”
“How about dinner tomorrow night?”
She nearly choked. Did he think she’d fall back into his bed as easily as she had the first time? Never mind that Tate had the sexiest, greenest eyes she’d ever seen or strong, capable and talented hands. She was wise to his seductive ways and had no intention of being sucked in by his charming smile or clever words again. “No thanks. I try not to repeat my mistakes.”
He blinked, briefly covering his eyes with long, thick lashes any woman would envy, but his confident smile didn’t waver. “Your loss, Faith. I remember how hot we were together even if you don’t.”
She hardened herself against the sexy rumble of his voice and tried to ignore the temptation nipping at her heels. “Perhaps your memory is faulty.”
A wicked grin lifted one corner of his edible mouth and carved a crease in his cheek-a crease she’d traced with her tongue once upon a time. “Maybe you’re afraid you can’t live up to my memories.”
Her molars clicked together. “And maybe you’re overestimating your charms and those memories are not worth revisiting.”
His grin faded. “I didn’t hear you complaining. In fact, I could swear your screams of pleasure are what made my neighbor hammer on the apartment wall and ask us to keep it down. He didn’t realize keeping it down around you was impossible.”
Fire rushed through Faith’s veins. She lifted her chin and pretended that incident hadn’t been the most embarrassing and yet hilarious moment of her life. Tate had carried her from the kitchen back to the bedroom where they’d made love with silent laughter. She’d never had so much fun making love before. “It’s amazing how far a woman will go to bolster a man’s ego. If I remember correctly you needed a little…encouragement.”
Tate’s eyes darkened. “For crying out loud, we’d made love three times in as many hours. Did you expect me to go off like an adolescent each time? And I don’t remember you complaining about the extra action.” He grabbed her suitcase and marched with it toward the bedroom.
Faith fisted her hands and counted to ten. Was she an idiot? Why goad him? Certainly, his stamina had put her previous lovers to shame. And yes, she’d loved the fact that Tate had unselfishly delayed his pleasure until she’d found her own. And darn it, why couldn’t she forget how good he’d made her feel in bed and out of it?
Swallow your pride and keep it friendly, Faith. Sandy worships her brother, and David is the only family you acknowledge. Exclude Tate and you could be excluded. “Tate, wait.”
She followed him into Sandy and David’s bedroom and then wished she hadn’t. Standing beside Tate and a bed melted her like candle wax. He’d been an amazing lover. Probably because he’d had so much practice, she reminded herself bitterly. “My gift for the baby is in my suitcase.”
His thick biceps bunched as he effortlessly lifted the case onto the bed as if it hadn’t gone over the airline’s weight limit, and then he stepped back to allow her access, but he didn’t leave the room. She wished he had as soon as she unzipped and opened the case. Her lingerie lay on top, and her skin burned as she dug through the colorful bras and panties to reach the gift-wrapped package cushioned beneath them. She shoved a pair of pink panties-the ones he’d pulled off her with his teeth that night-to the bottom of the case.
“Where is the house you’re buying?” he asked.
She closed the case before meeting his gaze. Clutching the gift to her chest she replied, “Rocky Creek.”
“Nice neighborhood. My district. Station Six. Give me your address and I’ll have the platoon look out for you when I’m off duty.”
Faith shifted her jaw and considered his words. “Are you being nice or are you just trying to get my address?”