The Guardian (Mended Souls Book 1) by Jacquie Biggar Read Free Book Online Page B

sensuality.
    More than anything Tracy wanted to lean back against his broad chest, feel his strong arms hug her close, and just relax. She couldn’t. Too many years of managing on her own had programmed her not to count on anyone. If only her hormones didn’t respond so easily to his oh-so-delicious body.
    Because that’s all this was, a chemistry attraction. It had to be. They barely knew each other. And he was a player. All solid reasons to take what she wanted and walk away. Problem was, Tracy wasn’t sure she could walk away from this man.
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    S cott barely listened to the young nurse perched beside him on the hard plastic chairs, buzzing in his ear like an annoying mosquito. Tracy seemed pensive and alone standing by the window. He ached to hold her close. They had a connection; she might wish to deny it but it was there just the same.
    He should take her home. She needed to get some rest before the cops showed up to take their statements. He’d tried calling Ray to do some damage control but his PR manager wasn’t picking up the phone. Damn guy was always around when he wasn’t wanted and never when he was needed. The same thing happened the night of the party.
    He and Lucas had spent the day sightseeing, showing his little sister the city of Chicago. They began with a boat tour on the Chicago River, checked out the Ferris wheel at Navy Pier, and ended with a stroll around Buckingham Fountain in Grant Park. Then they’d gone home and dressed in preparation for the after-party now that the movie had wrapped up production.
    Ray promised to have a car deliver them to the gathering hosted by the movie’s director, but Lucas decided to go for a cruise and show Natalya some of the area surrounding the city first. He’d just bought a sweet ride a couple of weeks earlier and was still in car whore heaven. They had a blast, laughing and singing and catching up with each other. Idyllic really.
    Restless, he smiled vaguely in his companion’s direction, rose and made his way across the empty sitting room to stand slightly behind Tracy. He inhaled the flowery scent of her shampoo, tempted to bury his nose in the silky tresses. How could she still look so put together after the day they’d just endured? Her hair, almost mahogany in this lighting, hadn’t dared to escape its coiled perfection. Even her clothes were wrinkle-free, though dusty from kneeling on the cement.
    He itched to mess her up. To find out what she’d look like first thing in the morning, after a full night of lovemaking. He’d start with the tender spot right there on the back of her neck, work his way to the shell of her ear. Murmur how beautiful she looked, how much he wanted her, how great they were going to be together. He’d remove the pins and work his fingers through the silky mass of hair, cradle her head while his teeth nibbled her jaw and inched closer and closer to the pouty fullness of her mouth. He fantasized about that mouth—and what it could do to him.
    She would be fully responsive, as eager to learn his body as he was to discovering hers. She’d turn to him, run her slender hands up his chest, unbutton his shirt and touch his skin. Her lush lips would trail fire along his collarbone, nuzzle his neck, and then her mouth would lift to his and whisper for him to take her home with him.
    Yeah, maybe.
    It was far more likely that if she knew what he was thinking she’d push him out the third story window of the hospital.
    “Did you get her number?” Tracy glanced back, her brow raised over sarcastic green eyes.
    Wow, someone’s claws were out. Never mind that she was right. The nurse, Nancy, he thought she’d said, had given him her card. And asked for an autograph on her tit. Cripes, was she going to whip the thing out every time she wanted to show off his signature? Scott didn’t understand what drove mega-fans to act the way they did. Some of it was just plain creepy.
    He fingered the crumpled card in his pocket.
    “Nah,