Page 27 of Maid of Dishonor


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So he didn’t plan to let Gina go so easily a second time. Not until they’d gotten their fill of each other while he was in New York. And whatever weird notions Gina had about Marnie—she could forget trying to persuade him they’d got their fill of each other in one night.

Something he would have to make clear to her, when she finally stopped hiding out in his shower.

Of course, he should probably ask her nicely instead of telling her. That would be the polite Southern thing to do. Especially as he knew how ornery she could be.

He saw the slow smile forming on his lips reflected in the glass.

Forget it.

He wasn’t a gentleman. And he’d stopped asking nicely when he’d figured out that nice wasn’t part of his nature.

And anyhow, taming Gina a

nd that quick-fire temper of hers was all part of the attraction. She might have a history of wrapping men round her perfectly manicured pinkie—him included, once upon a time—but he was more than man enough to take her on today.

And harnessing all that fire and passion would make this wild ride even wilder.

* * *

Gina dashed into the bedroom of Carter’s suite almost an hour later to find him flicking through The Wall Street Journal with the remains of his breakfast in front of him.

It had taken her longer than she’d planned to shower, wash and dry her hair, put on a semblance of decent make-up from the inadequate emergency supply in her purse and steam out the wrinkles in her dress—not to mention formulate exactly what she was going to say and how she was going to say it so that she could end her night of madness as quickly and cleanly and with as little fuss as possible. She had to pitch the brush-off just right. Most of all, she didn’t want Carter getting any ideas that her refusal to see him again was in any way a challenge. Because if there was one thing she’d learned during their epic sex session last night, the new Carter, not unlike the old Carter, was a man with a sizeable ego and a well-honed competitive spirit—who was not a good loser.

Unfortunately, the fact that she’d spent an extra twenty minutes in the bathroom than she’d bargained for meant she was going to have to do all that in ten minutes flat—if she didn’t want to turn up for her fitting more than half an hour late, and encourage even more probing questions from her friends.

‘There you are.’ He folded the paper on his plate. ‘I ordered you up some breakfast, but it arrived a while back. It may be a mite cold now.’

He lifted the silver dome on the plate opposite to reveal a splendid assortment of freshly cut fruit, waffles and syrup. Saliva pooled under her tongue. ‘I’m sorry, I really don’t have time to do that justice. Maybe just a quick cup of coffee?’

‘Sure thing.’ He plopped the dome back over her breakfast, apparently unconcerned by her refusal, and picked up the silver pot next to his plate.

Maybe this was going to be easier than she had assumed. The heady aroma of fresh coffee filled the air as he poured her a cup. ‘Cream and sugar, sugar?’ he teased.

‘Black’s fine.’ She took the cup, gulped the bitter liquid down, not quite as pleased with his nonchalant tone as she probably should be.

After fortifying herself. She popped the cup back on the table and toed on her stilettos. ‘Well, I guess this is goodbye, then?’ she said, feeling stupidly nervous all of a sudden. ‘It was quite a night.’

‘It sure was,’ he said, his gaze roaming over her and making all the sizzles and shimmers buzz like alarm bells.

‘Right, I’ll just...’ She shot a thumb over her shoulder. ‘Leave.’

She headed for the door. She hadn’t given him a single word of her carefully planned speech. Because she obviously hadn’t needed to. Clearly she was just another of the many, many notches on his bedpost.

‘Hold up, Gina.’

She swung round, the odd leap in her heart completely counterproductive, but there nonetheless. ‘Yes?’

‘I got you something.’ He lifted a pale blue paper bag off the bed with the logo of an exclusive designer boutique on the front and handed it to her.

She took the package, somewhat dazed by the intensity of his gaze. Why had he bought her a gift? And why was her heart practically beating its way through her chest wall?

Opening the bag, she lifted out a pair of exquisite red lace panties—and laughed. ‘Oh...’ She didn’t know what to say—at once touched that he would have thought of it, and turned on, as she suddenly became one hundred per cent more conscious of her current lack of underwear. ‘Thank you. That was very thoughtful of you.’

‘Not really.’ His lips curved into a tempting grin. ‘More like a necessity. That’s a mighty short dress. I don’t want anyone else getting a load of your naked butt but me.’

The blush fired up her neck. As heat swelled in her sex. Dropping the bag, she slipped her shoes off, and shimmied the red lace up her legs to cover her naked butt before she got any ideas about that teasing grin and the husky tone of his voice.

Not gonna happen, Gina. You’re wearing your big girl panties now.

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