Page 33 of Beauty and Her Boss


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He laughed. “We’ve been out here a long time. It’s getting late.”

“But we have the whole beach to ourselves.” And then she dropped her voice. “We can do whatever we want and there’s no one around to see.”

“Be careful. Or I just might take you up on the invitation.”

A shiver of excitement raced through her. She knew she shouldn’t be flirting with him, but she couldn’t stop herself. There was something about Deacon that she couldn’t resist.

“Maybe I want you to take me up on the invitation.”

Deacon stood there in the shadows. She wished she could make out his eyes. He was so quiet. Was he considering taking advantage of her suggestion? Her heart thudded against her ribs.

“Gabrielle, don’t make offers you aren’t ready to fulfill. Let’s head back before something happens that we’ll both come to regret. I don’t want to hurt you.”

He held out his hand to her and helped her to her feet. For a moment, they stood there face-to-face. Her pulse raced and her heart pounded. With darkness all around them, a few moonbeams silhouetted Deacon’s face. She wanted to tell him that she wasn’t fragile. But her tongue refused to cooperate.

Instead of turning and heading back to the estate, Deacon continued staring at her. Was he considering kissing her again? Was it wrong that she wanted him to pull her against his chest and lower his head to hers?

And then he turned away and started climbing down off the rocks. When he was standing on the sand, he turned back to her and held out his hands in order to catch her. Even though she could make it down on her own, she didn’t resist his offer of assistance.

He placed his hands on her waist and lowered her ev

er so slowly. Her body slid down over his. It was tantalizing and oh, so arousing. She was so caught up in the crazy sensation zinging through her body that she never noticed when her feet touched the ground.

Beard or no beard. Scars or no scars. Long hair or short. There was something magnetic about this man. She knew that it wasn’t rational. And right now, she didn’t care.

Her heart pounded so loud that it drowned out rational thought. She was going to live in the moment and damn the consequences. She tilted up her chin and lifted up on her tiptoes. Her mouth pressed to his.

His lips were warm and smooth. And the kiss, it was full of emotion, of need, of desire. Her hands slid up over his broad shoulders and slipped around his neck. She could get used to this.

Except for the beard. It tickled her. And when he moved to trail kisses down her neck, it tickled so much that she pulled away. A smile lifted her lips as she struggled not to laugh. He sent her a concerned look as though wondering if he had done something wrong.

“It’s not you.” But when he went to press his lips to her neck again, she placed her hands on his shoulders and held him back.

“What?”

She wasn’t sure if he would take offense or not. And so she stood there not saying a word.

He frowned. “Just tell me.”

“It...it’s your beard. It tickles.”

His eyes twinkled with mischief. “It does?” He leaned toward her. “How much?”

Before he could tickle her again, she yanked away from him. “Catch me if you can.”

And with that taunt, she ran up the beach. A big smile was plastered across her face. For once, she wasn’t the dutiful daughter working two jobs to keep the bills paid and she wasn’t answering her father’s numerous phone calls to check up on her. She was just Gabrielle Dupré, a woman with a dangerously handsome man chasing her. She could hear Deacon calling out to her, but she didn’t stop until she was out of breath.

When she turned around, she fully expected Deacon to be standing there, but he wasn’t. She squinted into the shadows. He was quite a way down the beach. What in the world? Hadn’t he wanted to catch her?

Disappointment socked her in the gut. They’d been having so much fun. Where had it gone wrong?

Her wounded pride urged her to keep going. But another part of her wanted to wait and find out what was up. The curiosity in her won out. She started to walk back to him.

When she was within a few feet of Deacon, he said. “Sorry. I couldn’t keep up. My leg is getting better, but it’s not that good yet.”

And suddenly she felt foolish. She was worried about him being upset with her when in fact he had an injury. It never even dawned on her that the injuries he’d sustained to his face, arms and hands had extended further.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

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