Stranded At Cupid's Hideaway. Connie Lane

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Stranded At Cupid's Hideaway - Connie Lane Mills & Boon American Romance

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gaze dip to the briefs and up again. He watched two spots of color rise in her cheeks. He watched her catch her breath.

      “So,” he said, “what’s a nice doctor like you doing in a place like this?”

      “Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing.” Laurel plucked the underwear out of his hand and tossed it into the bag. “I’m here because tourist season is over and the clinic isn’t as busy now. That gives me some time for myself. And it gives me some time to stop by once in a while and see if Grandma needs anything. When she’s busy, I try to help out as much as I can. And you’re here because…”

      Her question hung on the air between them. When the silence dragged out to one minute, then two, she tossed the shopping bag on the counter.

      “I can’t believe you just stopped by, Noah. No one just stops by an island in the middle of a lake in the middle of the fall. What’s going on?”

      He gave her a lopsided grin. “A guy can’t get nostalgic?”

      “A guy? Sure. A guy can get plenty nostalgic. But you’re not just any guy. You don’t do anything unless you’ve thought about it six ways and sideways.”

      Noah let his gaze slip from Laurel to the case of sex toys. Her hand was on the counter, and he slid his over hers. “I’ve thought about you six ways and sideways.”

      “No. You haven’t.” Laurel shook her head, but she didn’t pull her hand away. “You haven’t thought about me, and I haven’t thought about you. I thought we made that pretty clear the last time we saw each other. We promised—”

      “We didn’t exactly promise.” Noah barked out a laugh. “I have a photographic memory, remember? Even if I didn’t, I think I’d remember that promise is way too nice a word to describe the things we said to each other. The way I remember it, you said you’d never waste another minute thinking about me,” he reminded her.

      “And you said you were glad,” she countered. She pulled back her shoulders and looked him in the eye. “You said you’d already spent enough time worrying about a woman who wasn’t worth worrying about.”

      “And you said you didn’t care because you didn’t want me worrying about you, anyway.” Noah skimmed his hand up her arm. “You said you could look after yourself, that you didn’t need anyone to tell you what you wanted out of life.”

      “And you said that was just fine, because you weren’t going to tell me, anyway.” Laurel’s voice rose along with the tempo of her words. “You said that was great. It was terrific. It was really, really good. You said I should grow up and figure out what was really important. What was important to you, you said, was your career. And you weren’t going to throw it away on some backwater island where—”

      “Where the only thing a doctor ever got to treat was broken bones and beestings. Yeah, I know.” Noah had no intention of getting pulled into an argument. Not the same argument. Not all over again. But if that was the case, why was his voice as loud as Laurel’s? He found himself clutching her arm a little tighter. “You said you were happy to finally get things out in the open.”

      “And you said goodbye.”

      Their words hung in the air, as bitter and painful as they had been four years earlier. Nothing could change the things they’d said or done. Noah knew that. Nothing could erase the pain or the regret. Nothing could bring back the years and the happiness they might have shared.

      Nothing.

      Noah loosened his grip on Laurel’s arm. He couldn’t change the past but he could, at least, do something about the present. The moment. The instant. And in that one instant, Laurel’s eyes were as pretty as ever, her lips were as full. Her breasts were as lush, and when she pulled in breath after shaky breath and they strained against her sweater, he knew it was one moment he couldn’t let pass.

      As quickly as he loosened his hold, he reached for her again, and leaning over the counter, he brought his mouth down on Laurel’s.

      Chapter Three

      Big mistake.

      As soon as the thought formed in her head, Laurel amended it.

      This wasn’t just a big mistake. This was a whopper. A screwup. The mother of all mistakes.

      Which explained why she felt like a complete idiot.

      Which didn’t explain why she was enjoying Noah’s kiss quite so much.

      The thoughts tumbled through her head at the same time a riot of sensations assaulted her body. Lips that were skilled. A taste that was unique. A certain heart-stopping sizzle that bubbled through her bloodstream. And the heat.

      Laurel tipped her head back, and when Noah parted her lips with his tongue and deepened the kiss, she heard a moan of pure pleasure rise from deep in her throat. The heat of Noah’s hand seared her skin even through her sweater. His lips scorched hers. An answering heat built inside her. She leaned closer. The hard edge of the glass display case poked her in the ribs, and Laurel cursed her luck. If it wasn’t for the display case, she’d be feeling Noah’s arms around her. If it wasn’t for the display case, she’d be pressing her body against his. If it wasn’t for the display case, she could get closer still and let her hands roam over him, exploring and remembering.

      If it wasn’t for the display case, she’d be making an even bigger fool of herself than she already was.

      The heat that pounded through her veins froze with the icy realization, and Laurel flattened one hand against Noah’s shoulder and pushed away from him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She stopped just short of screeching the question and struggled to collect herself. With any luck, he was as confused as she was. As overwhelmed. As flustered. Otherwise, he might catch on to the fact that she wasn’t sure if she was asking the question of him or of herself.

      “Are you nuts?”

      Another question she could very well have aimed at herself. Instead, Laurel ran a hand through her hair and moved back a couple steps. It might have been easier to ignore the thread of desire wound tight inside her if she didn’t find herself with her back against a display of itty-bitty panties and teeny-tiny bra tops and eentsyweentsy wisps of lace that tickled the back of her neck and her imagination in ways it shouldn’t have been tickled. At least not when Noah was in the room. Or at the Hideaway. Or on the island.

      Beyond the point of knowing or caring if what she was about to do looked as much like a retreat as it felt, Laurel darted from behind the counter and headed for the door.

      “Where are we going?” she heard Noah call from behind her.

      On her way past the front desk, Laurel grabbed the first set of room keys she could get her hands on. She glanced at the name etched into the heart-shaped brass key chain. “Almost Paradise,” she told him.

      Behind her, she heard Noah’s footsteps against the antique Oriental rug. She felt his arms go around her waist, holding her in place. At the same time, his breath brushed against her neck, soft and warm. “Cool,” he murmured. “I have to admit, I wasn’t really planning for that little kiss to turn into a full-scale seduction, but if you’re willing…”

      This time, Laurel

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