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"I would love to spend more time with you." Rising onto my toes, I wrap my arms around his neck. "Would a kiss be acceptable?"
"Yes, I'd love that."
He loops his arms around me and tugs my body closer. His mouth meets mine, and I can't stop myself from mashing my lips to his. He smells so good, thanks to what I'm sure is cologne or aftershave. The heady scent makes me want him even more, and I imagine him dragging me down onto that tiny sofa so we can screw each other mindless.
But he doesn't even deepen the kiss. When he pulls away, our mouths hover close enough that his lips graze mine.
I've still got my eyes closed, feeling dreamy and floaty and warm. "Mm, Richard."
He stiffens against me. "Why did you call me that?"
I wince and crack my lids open.
The man who made love to me for hours last night is staring at me without blinking, his lips parted.
"You mean why did I call you Richard?" I ask as a pathetic delaying tactic.
"I never told you my name."
"Right." I back away from him and clear my throat. "I, um, kind of snooped around while you were asleep last night. I couldn't stand not knowing your name, it was driving me insane, so I found your wallet and looked at your driver's license."
His gaze narrows, and his mouth crimps.
"I'm sorry," I rush to say. "It was wrong, I know. Never have I ever done anything like that. I've never had a one-nighter either, but I had no call to snoop to find out the name of the guy I slept with. I'm sorry. So, so, so sorry. If you want to leave, I understand."
Richard Cornelius Hunter raises one brow, tilting his head to the side, and studies me for so long that I start to feel warm, though not in a pleasant way.
"Are you okay?" I ask.
Please don't turn into a psycho who's about to chainsaw me into a thousand pieces.Spend the night with an anonymous stranger? It sounded so hot yesterday, but now I'm seeing how stupid I've been. Should I look for something I can make into a weapon? Sure, because I'm MacGyver.Get a grip, Maddie.
Richard slings an arm around me, hauls me into his body, and kisses me.
Chapter Four
Richard
Yes, I'm kissing her—which must mean I'm barking mad. She tells me she nicked my wallet last night so she could learn my name, and I respond by fastening my mouth to hers. I'm also holding her warm, lush body to mine and relishing the way her breasts are crushed to my chest and the way she smells so bloody incredible, not to mention the way she tastes. I should be irritated by what she did, but instead, I feel aroused. I love that she wanted to know more about me and wanted it so badly that she resorted to espionage.
Maybe sheisa spy. Or maybe she's just a sexy, nosy American. Either way, her need to know my name makes me want to shag her.
Of course, I have no right to get annoyed. I'm not entirely innocent either, and I experience a sudden impulse to tell her the truth. Peeling her body away from mine, I grasp her upper arms. "I have a confession too, Madeleine."
Her eyes go wide for a second or two, then she shakes her head and curves her kissable lips into a knowing smile. "You snooped on me too. I didn't bring my purse or wallet to your suite, so I'm curious how you obtained that information."
I love the way she talks, using more sophisticated words than most of my clients. They're supposed to be language experts, but too many of them write like twelve-year-olds. Madeleine is clever, for sure, but also elegant. She has an elegantly beautiful body for sure.
"Well?" she says. "Are you going to confess or what?"
"Yes, right." I can't make myself let go of her arms, since I love the feel of her silky skin under my palms. "I bribed the desk clerk to tell me your name. He wouldn't share your last name, though. All I know about you is that your first name is Madeleine, you're American, and you're a bloody brilliant shag."
She laughs, holding a hand to her belly because she's laughing so hard. I think I see a bit of spittle flying from her lips.
I release her arms. "Why is that so funny?"
Madeleine manages to calm herself, though she needs to wipe tears from her eyes. "You did what I did. Here I thought I was the loony one skulking around in the dark to find out who you are, but you did the same thing. It was like our own little two-arm parallel assignment."
What on earth is she on about? Strangely, not understanding a word she said makes me even more aroused. I've probably gone insane, so I should call a psychiatrist immediately. I don't, though. I'm too busy staring at the daft angel standing in front of me. "I have two arms, but I don't understand—"
