The Groom's Revenge by Susan Crosby Read Free Book Online Page B

regret—like kiss her. It was bad enough he’d spent the past few hours adrift in her fragrance and distracted by the appealing frown of concentration on her face, the memory of her touch washing over him like gentle waves.
    “Be fearless, Mollie. I’ve saved everything to floppy disks, so even if you mess something up, you won’t lose it entirely. The problem is that until you get a second phone line, I can’t talk you through anything.”
    Her gaze was leveled directly at his mouth.
    “Did you hear me?” he asked.
    Visibly startled, she raised her eyes to his, then she stood. “I’ll be fearless. And I’ll master this by the time you come back. When do you think that might be?”
    “It depends on how much has piled up at home and how quickly things transpire with the business here.” He extended his hand to her. “Goodbye for now.”
    She hesitated, slipped her hand into his, then didn’t let go. “This is a lot to ask,” she said quietly, “but I would really like to hug you goodbye. I know we have a business relationship, but I feel so close to you tonight Our talk about my mother and your father and—”
    He pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her, feeling her arms come around his back and hold tight. She burrowed closer, pressing her face into his neck so that he could feel her breath, warm and unsteady against his skin.
    “Don’t let go,” she whispered.
    He didn’t move his hands, although he wanted to soothe and comfort. To explore and arouse. To satisfy. Himself and her. Would she disappear if he did? Fly away on fairy wings?
    She murmured his name. He heard the emotion behind it, the need that mirrored his. But there was too much at stake to respond to her needs or his own. The risks were high enough without adding to them.
    “I’ll be in touch,” he said, pushing away from her, not looking back as he hurried down the stairs, then to the front door.
    He turned the dead bolt, twisted the doorknob and pulled.
    “Thanks for everything,” she said from behind him. She’d followed like a comet’s tail—undoubtedly to lock up after he left.
    Nothing in his life had prepared him for Mollie Shaw.
    He’d never known anyone like her, and probably never would again. He could barely remember being as trusting as she, as vulnerable. Yet once upon a time, he had been. The memory of that innocence made him hesitate now.
    He started to turn. His foot bumped against something—The screeching leprechaun, silent now, his switch turned off, but oddly a reminder of his responsibilities to the young woman who waited, quiet and patient. The woman who surrounded herself with elves and fairies and other bits of magic. She’d known love. In that she was richer than he.
    The glow of a streetlamp illuminated her face. She smiled, the warmth filling her eyes. Again came the fleeting feeling she might fade away.
    “You’re a hard woman to resist,” he said, sliding his hands in his pockets.
    A few beats passed before she responded. “I hope you’re not waiting for an apology. That would be a logical expectation, of course, but logic is only one component of my database.”
    The spell was broken. “I love it when you talk techno,” he said.
    Mollie laughed. She cupped his arm, letting her thumb slide under his shirtsleeve to caress his skin, the muscles bunching beneath. She wondered why he felt he had to resist her, but she didn’t ask. For now, it was enough that the attraction was mutual. “Have a safe flight home, Gray.”
    He nodded, then he was gone.
    She lingered at the front window until he drove out of sight, then she danced up the stairs and pirouetted into the bathroom to run a bath. She couldn’t stop smiling. She, Mollie Shaw of Minneapolis, Minnesota, was a hard woman to resist! Mollie laughed at the idea. While soaking in the tub, however, she considered his words a little more seriously.
    What had she learned about him? What could make it hard for him to resist her?
    Hmm. He