Another teaser from the author…and don’t forget to check out my ‘What to read after Fifty Shades of Grey‘ list!
Disclaimer: May be edited or deleted prior to publication.
We cleaned up the mess from dinner together. As I reached for the rinsed dish Gideon held out for me to put in the dishwasher, he faked me out. He grabbed my hand instead and deftly set the plate on the counter. Catching me around the waist, he spun us into a dance. From the living room stereo, I caught the strains of something beautiful laced with a woman’s pure, haunting voice.
“Who is this?” I asked, already breathless from the feel of Gideon’s powerful body flexing fluidly against mine. The desire that was always smoldering between us flared, making me feel vibrant and alive in a way that was unique with him. Every nerve ending sensitized, preparing for his touch. Hunger coiled tight with heated anticipation.
“No clue.” He swept me around the island and into the living room.
I surrendered to his consummate lead, loving that dancing was a passion we shared and awed by the obvious joy he felt in just holding me and being with me. That same joy effervesced within me, lightening my steps until it felt like we were gliding. As we approached the stereo, the music rose in volume. I heard the words “dark and dangerous” in the lyrics and stumbled in surprise.
“Too much wine, angel?” Gideon teased, pulling me closer.
But my attention was riveted to the music, and the singer’s pain over a tormented relationship that she likened to being in love with a ghost. My heart ached at the words that so hauntingly reminded me of the days I’d believed I had lost Gideon forever.
I looked up into his face and found him watching me with dark, glittering eyes.
“You looked so happy when you were dancing with your dad,” he said, referring to the night he’d come over for dinner to meet my father. Our relationship had been on rocky ground then and I’d broken up with him the next day.
“I’m happy now,” I assured him, even as my eyes stung at the sight of his yearning, a longing I knew intimately. If souls could be mated with wishes, ours would be inextricably entwined.
Cupping his nape, I pulled his mouth down to mine. As our lips touched, his rhythm faltered. He stopped; hugging me so tightly my feet left the floor.
Unlike the heartbroken singer, I wasn’t in love with a ghost. I was in love with a flesh and blood man, one who made mistakes but learned from them, a man who was trying hard to better himself for me, a man who wanted us to work as desperately as I did.
“I’m never happier than when I’m with you,” I told him.
He took my breath away with his kiss.