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“Stunning.”
She stiffened at the male voice, then caught sight of Landon’s piercing regard in the mirror’s reflection. The color crawled up her cheeks. “It’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her wedding dress,” she said.
Nothing moved. Time, the world, had paused when Landon arrived.
Swallowing awkwardly, Beth turned and shrugged. “But I guess we’re getting divorced, so…”
He remained motionless, a sentinel blocking the door.
His eyes glowed. So, so slowly, they wandered over her body, head to toe, and they glimmered with such heat they scorched every inch of her they covered.
The form-fitting dress with the high neckline suddenly felt as transparent as a spider’s web.
She bit her lip, unable to stifle the shudder that coursed through her. “It feels glued—” she pulled at the satin on her hips “—to my skin.” All of a sudden.
“The only thing glued to your skin are my eyes.” His voice was husky, and Beth’s thighs liquefied. Ducking her head, she unclipped her hair and used it to create a waterfall so he couldn’t see her blush.
His words…hurt. The way he looked at her. Hurt.
Maybe because she was starting to admire and respect him. And because he was amazing and sexy and kissable and staring at her with those bedroom eyes all the time, and she couldn’t stand it.
Her insides knotted, and she closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands, smothering a groan. “Can you please get out of here, Landon? You’re making me nervous.”
She kept her eyes shut and strained her ears to hear him leave. Hopefully, he’d close the door behind him, too. But for a charged moment nothing in the room seemed to move.
Her heart stopped when she heard a footstep, and a second, and a third. To her alarm, they were coming in her direction. Suddenly, Landon stood too close. His familiar scent penetrated her lungs, making them want to explode.
His arms, strong and hard, slowly slid around her waist. A fluttery, hopeful sensation danced inside her and she couldn’t quite quell it. He murmured her name over the top of her head as he drew her to his strong body.
Feeling naked and vulnerable in his arms, she dropped her hands to his shoulders—in a poor, poor effort to push him away—but didn’t dare open her eyes.
What was he doing?
Why had he stared at her as if she were naked?
God, what was he doing?
“Look at me,” he said.
She bit her trembling lower lip and quietly refused to.
His hand slid languorously up her spine, and his fingers caressed the bare skin on her back as he huskily murmured, “Look at me, Beth…”
She felt the gentle cup of his hand on the back of her head, drawing her forward until his lips were a breath away.
“…and tell me you don’t want this.”
He covered her lips with his. She stiffened at the contact, trying to fight it, but his lips felt plush and warm, and when the wet silk of his tongue swept into her mouth, she was lost. Lost in the moment, in a kiss that was profound with yearning and rough with hunger, a kiss that was shattering and devastating and beautiful, a kiss from a man she wanted and feared and admired.
An unfamiliar desperation rose inside her, the need to experience this closeness with someone staggering in intensity, making her not only respond but do so with hot, ardent abandon. Whoever he was, whatever he was, he was suddenly more crucial than air, and her every defense against him fled. Her fingers bit into his shoulders and her mouth began to move frantically under his.
“More,” he rasped, and slanted his head, “Give me more.”
A moan rushed out of her, muffled by his mouth as their lips dissolved in a hungry, wild exploration. He tasted of coffee. Smelled like a man. His hands greedily roamed her sides, along her back, clutching and kneading even while pressing her against him.
Eager to investigate every plane, ridge, angle of his body, she let her hands venture up his back and curled her fingers around his thick nape. His arms tightened around her and he groaned into her mouth. He was so aroused! She could feel it, the thundering in his chest against her breast, the sharp shudder that rushed through him as he deepened the kiss and ground his need against her in slow, suggestive moves of his hips.
Rather than fill her with fear, the stab of his broad, unyielding hardness sent a flood of warmth across her body, and the muscles of her tummy clenched with need.
