Commitment by Margaret Ethridge Read Free Book Online Page B

with frank admiration for the first time since they met. “Oh no. I know you’re not. You’re Maggie McCann, the most dangerous woman in the world.”
    “Dangerous?” She scoffed.
    He took her hand, sandwiching it between his palms and leaning closer. “Hello, Maggie,” he said, a laugh coloring his tone. “It’s terrifying to see you again.” She gaped when he snatched the champagne flute from her fingers and downed its contents in one gulp. “Can I get you a fresh drink?” The devastating dimple in his cheek flashed like a bawdy wink when he handed her the empty glass. “I think we’re both gonna need another.”

Chapter Five

    The proverbial ton of bricks had nothing on seeing Maggie McCann live and in Technicolor. From the moment he dared to lift his gaze to meet hers, he was reeling. What the hell is a guy supposed to do when confronted with a woman who looks like she was conceived while Snow White’s animator was busy ogling Jessica Rabbit?
    When Sheila started to introduce them a red light flashed in the corner of his mind. He said her name and his brain chirped like a car alarm poised to go off. She spoke and the beeping began, drowning out the low, husky contralto of her voice. She was that Maggie. The one-in-a-hundred-thousand Maggies . The Maggie he’d spent a decade and a half avoiding.
    She kissed his cheek, damn her. That was a first. Hopefully a last. Well, not really hopefully, but it would be better if it were the last. Kisses from Maggie, no matter how innocent, were just too damn risky. Her perfume coiled around him, making his head spin and his lungs cease to function, and the alarm in his brain whoop-whooped.
    She wasn’t his type at all. A good girl. Home, hearth, hearts and flowers—that was Maggie. Jesus, she smelled good. Buzzers, horns, and New Year’s Eve noisemakers blared at him. The manic robot from Lost in Space was flailing, droning his name in a desperate attempt to warn him. Danger! Danger!
    He panicked. Not that he’d ever let her see him sweat. The minute Sheila disappeared into the crowd, he opened his mouth and the snark came pouring out. The old offense as a defense ploy usually worked like a charm for him, but it didn’t faze Maggie McCann. She stood at the bar, her emerald eyes shooting off sparks of fiery indignation. Her lips trembled, and he nearly doubled over to stave off the urge to kiss them into stillness.
    An image of her pressed up against the bar flashed in his mind’s eye. His mouth on her throat, his knee pressing the full skirt of her dress between her legs, his hands overfloweth-ing with Maggie.…
    Thankfully, the star of the show managed to squelch the vision when she babbled some crap about it taking two people to make a marriage work. Tom had to shove his hands into his pockets to keep from shaking her. Hard. He wanted to shake her, and not just because she was naïve enough to believe the platitudes she was spewing. He could see it in her eyes—the sadness, the disillusionment, the loss of…innocence.
    Her eyes. The innocence in her eyes punched him in the gut each time he got within ten feet of her. He wanted to scatter every single one of the pins holding that crimson mane in a sleek, sophisticated twist. He ached to plunge his hands into the flames of her hair just to see if he could stand the heat.
    Something flashed in her eyes when he spewed some crap about it taking only one person to blow everything to shit. They stared at one another for a heartbeat, possibly two. Then the golden lights her anger lit sputtered and died, leaving her gaze cool, dull, and flat. For one heart-stopping moment, the Maggie McCann who’d inspired countless fantasies ceased to exist. The threat that had his fight or flight instincts raging had been neutralized. He should have been cheering, but when she murmured her excuses and turned away, he felt oddly bereft.
    Her curt dismissal and sudden departure hurt more than he cared to admit. Then, she paused to