Private Acts by Delaney Diamond Read Free Book Online

on my way back to the house.”
    “I could give you a lift. I’m headed back myself.”
    Samirah came to an abrupt stop, forcing the couple behind them to veer sharply to the left to avoid colliding into her. The man cursed angrily. She barely heard him because she was so focused on the six-foot-three Ecuadorian towering over her.
    “No, thank you, I don’t need a ride back,” she said slowly, enunciating each word.
    Miguel caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger. Warm, delicious sensations arrowed toward her abdomen. “How long do you plan to do this? How long do you plan to run from me?” he asked, looking down at her with hooded eyes.
    “As long as it takes. You’re wasting your time.”
    “I don’t think so.” His thumb stroked across the underside of her lower lip. She wanted to swat away his hand, but she couldn’t, rendered helpless in the middle of a busy mall. “You strike me as a confident woman of adventure, so I have to ask—why? Did someone hurt you?”
    The spell broke, and she freed herself, pulling back to clear her mind from the narcotic-like effect of his touch. “No.”
    He’d come so close to the truth of her shameful secret. The fact that a married man had used her as his plaything, and she’d never even known he was married. Her woman’s intuition hadn’t kicked in. When the rollercoaster ride of their whirlwind relationship had come to a crashing halt, she ended up losing her job and her reputation. No one believed she hadn’t known he had a wife, but he’d managed to walk away practically unscathed, with his career and marriage intact.
    Miguel peered at her with a frown, trying to decipher the complicated puzzle she presented. “Then why?”
    “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I’m not interested?”
    A muscle in his jaw pulsed. “No, it never occurred to me,” he said. “Not when I can clearly see you want me as much as I want you. Not when I could have followed you into the dressing room moments ago and had you against the wall.” He spoke the words with such raw intensity, her insides trembled. “No, Samirah, it never occurred to me.”
    She went still, unable to look at him, without the strength to deny the accuracy of his words. But she’d promised herself no sex on this trip. Besides, she barely knew him. The extent of her knowledge consisted of knowing he lived next door, and he sculpted. Nothing else.
    “I can’t sleep with you right now.”
    Why had she added those last two words, suggesting she would eventually, but not right this minute? Was it inevitable?
    “Who said anything about sleeping?” The smile in his voice compelled her to raise her gaze to his. “Let me give you a ride home. That’s all I’m offering.”
    She was being ridiculous. There was no harm in accepting a ride from him. Unless he attacked her in the car. “Okay,” she said with a resigned note to her voice.
    Out in the parking lot, Samirah realized they were walking toward a Harley Davidson motorcycle and pulled up short.
    “Is that yours?”
    “It is.” He smiled at her. “You look surprised.”
    “Because I thought when you offered me a ride you meant you had a car.” She drew nearer to the powerful-looking machine, admiring the shiny blue and chrome paint.
    “I had it custom made and imported last year.”
    “It’s nice, but I don’t know if I would feel comfortable riding with you.”
    “I’m very careful. You have nothing to be afraid of.”
    Except being pressed up against you for the length of the ride back home. The short trip would seem like an eternity.
    “You only have one helmet,” she pointed out.
    “And it’s all yours.” He released the lock and handed the helmet to her.
    Miguel took her bag and deposited it in the leather saddlebag on the side and then swung one long leg over the machine. Over his shoulder, he asked, “Are you coming?”
    Against her better judgment, Samirah pulled the helmet onto her head. In a moment of vanity, she