you always this tense?” he asked. His voice was smooth and deep and warmed her from the outside the same way the whiskey warmed her from the inside.
“Pretty much,” she answered honestly.
“Do you need me to do something about it?”
He already was. The knot was unraveling beneath his fingers like magic. And then his clever plan dawned on her. She craned her head around to look at him over her shoulder. “Are you seducing me?”
“Would you like me to?”
“Well, duh. You’re a complete hunk. But me? What would a guy like you see in a girl like me?”
He laughed softly. “Have you looked at yourself in a mirror? You’re a knockout. Not too many women can pull off sophisticated and pure-as-the-driven-snow in the same look.” He ticked off her additional attributes with his fingers against the side of her neck. “You make me laugh. And you’re smart or you wouldn’t be a forensic accountant. And you have a kind heart or you wouldn’t have suffered through your sister’s wedding with a smile on your face all day.”
“I didn’t suffer—”
“Sure you did. Anyone who really looked at you could see it in your eyes. The way I hear it, you practically raised her. She’s your only family and she’s starting a new life with someone else. No matter how much you love her, that has to hurt. Has to make you feel all alone in the world.”
What a perceptive man to have noticed. And he must have a pretty kind heart himself to be here comforting her like this. “You’re right, of course,” she murmured. As the truth of his words sank in, a knife of grief and loss stabbed at her heart. She’d faced terrible loss in her life, agonizing loneliness. But this was right up there. Oh, Sunny. I’m gonna miss you so much. Tears sprang to her eyes.
She started to turn around to face Trent, but his big hands forestalled her. And then something warm and resilient moved against her neck where it joined her shoulder.
“You’re not alone, tonight,” he murmured against her skin.
Desperate need for that to be true had her leaning back toward him, her whole being reaching out toward the solace he offered. Just once in her life, she would love for someone to be strong for her, to take care of her. His hands moved slowly across her stomach, easing her back against him even more closely as if he was telling her to lean on him. But if his hands were there, what was that touching her neck?
His mouth! As realization dawned, a host of delicious sensations ripped through her, radiating outward from where his lips moved across her skin. Languor and lust rolled through her, making a beeline for her knees and threatening to collapse them. Whiskey, thy name is temptation.
Was she seriously going to do this? Trent Hollings? The bachelor every female at the wedding had been throwing herself at? Of course, he’d been the one to throw himself at her. Literally.
“Tell me again not to overthink this,” she muttered.
He turned her around then, his hands unerringly finding every hairpin and tossing them aside. He plunged both hands into her thick, blond hair and pulled the French twist down around her shoulders in lush waves. Her hair was her secret pride, and she was glad he could see it like this. She never wore it down in her daily life. In her career field, she needed people to take her seriously and not treat her like some kind of sex kitten. But tonight, she was okay with that. If Trent Hollings thought she was hot, she was darned well not about to talk him out of it.
“Mmm. Better,” he murmured. “I’ve been itching to do that all day.”
“Really?”
He took her face in his big hands and tilted it up to his. “Really.”
She tensed as his head lowered toward hers. He paused, his mouth inches from hers, and breathed, “Don’t overthink this.”
Right. Live in the moment. Go for it. Carpe diem. His lips touched hers and the platitudes fled in the face of this stunningly sexy man kissing her. His mouth was warm and smooth and confident, and in about ten seconds, he’d blasted past all her experience in kissing. His lips parted hers and his tongue tested her teeth. She gasped at the invasion and he took immediate advantage of it to taste her more deeply.
His arms tightened around her, lifting her against his big, warm body. A hand slid up her back to her head, cradling it in a large palm and drawing her even further into the kiss. And then he was kissing her with his whole body. Whether that was him moving against her or her moving against him she couldn’t tell and didn’t care. Her dress gaped open in the back and his hand burned her bare flesh as it dipped inside the gown. She was shocked when his hand slid down to cup her derriere and … Oh, God, she’d forgotten she was wearing that silly thong Sunny’d talked her into. Something about panty lines ruining the lie of the gown.
He made a sound of surprised approval.
“What?” she blurted.
“I didn’t peg you for a naughty-lingerie kind of girl.”
Painfully aware of the drawer full of cotton granny panties across the room, she didn’t disabuse him of the notion. For the first time all day, she was grateful for the tiny scrap of spandex and lace nestled a little too intimately in her nether regions. Trent’s finger traced the thin line of the thong downward and she groaned in pleasure and embarrassment.
“You’re overthinking,” he warned laughingly. “Let go and enjoy yourself.”
Her knees did buckle then. He caught her up against him with ease and kissed her with gusto until her knees would bear her weight again. “Ahh, you’re going to be a joy to seduce. So artless. So natural. Such a nice young lady.”
“Is that bad?” she asked, frowning up at two of him swimming in her gaze. She did believe she was officially buzzed.
“Not at all.” His fingers slipped under the shoulders of the lined gown with its built-in shelf bra. Which meant she wasn’t wearing a blessed thing under the gown. Except that sexy little black thong, of course. He hooked the red silk and slipped it off her shoulders, kissing her skin as it was revealed. The gown whispered down her body to the floor in a bloodred puddle and she shivered. Whether it was the cool air on her skin or Trent’s hot mouth on her skin that caused it, she couldn’t say.
“You’re magnificent, Chloe. How is it some man hasn’t snatched you up and made you his?”
She blinked up at Trent as he straightened and shrugged off his tuxedo jacket. Nope, no padding in them there shoulders. His starched, white shirt clung to a physique that could make a girl weep with appreciation. Realizing belatedly that she was all but drooling at him, she answered, enunciating carefully so she wouldn’t slur her words, “I’m too boring. And neat. Men hate neat.”
Trent laughed as he stripped off his cummerbund and tossed it aside. “That’s not how I hear it. Most men love a woman who’ll pick up after them. When I settle down, I’ll hire a butler to do the job. It’ll save on resentment from the ladies in my life.”
Ladies. Plural. Of course a man like him had scads of women chasing after him. “I’m just one more in a long string of conquests, aren’t I?” she accused. Who knew whiskey brought out such a brutally honest streak in her?
He
