Trophy Wives by Jan Colley Read Free Book Online Page A

kiss you, Lucy McKinlay,right or wrong. It was a rare moment in Ethan’s life. He knew he’d spend a lifetime wondering if he did not go with the instinct driving him right now.
    His mouth descended onto hers and the first touch of her slowed him down. There was no hurry. If he had to do this, he would do it properly.
    With his tongue he traced the shape of her small mouth, lingering in the bow in the center of her top lip. Cool in the morning chill, and incredibly soft. He coaxed her lips apart and thought of nature—cold morning air, snow on your tongue, fresh-cut grass. The swirling sea-colors of her outfit last night as she moved around the bar, bending and straightening, smiling and chatting. That vision had kept him awake for most of the night, so restless that he was compelled to take an early-morning swim. And to knock himself out trying to impress her when he saw her at the door to the pool.
    Lucy’s mouth kissed back, warming and accepting. Her tongue did not shy from his, her breath shuddered into his mouth. Her hair was as soft and fine as he had ever felt. His fingers threaded through it, discovering the shape of her skull, making her gasp when he massaged the base of it. He wanted more, but it wasn’t so much carnal or wanting to go farther, as it was just to continue. The taste of her, the feel of her skin, it all combined into a whole delicious addictive feast.
    But her arms were rigid at her sides. It was that fact that pricked his comprehension, brought him back through the clouds. His hands moved to her shoulders and ran lightly down her arms, as if to thaw their stiffness. He leaned back slightly, a little breathless but wanting to see her response.
    Her eyes remained closed. She captured her bottom lip with small white teeth and drew it into her mouth, inhaling. Then her eyes opened and slowly focused on him.
    Heavy-lidded and fringed by light-brown lashes that seemed longer at the outer corners, there was real depth in those lovely blue eyes. Surprise. Embers of heat going up in a little shower of sparks. He’d thought her unresponsive. Afraid, even, when he’d felt the tension in her arms. She wasn’t. A strong tremor rolled through her slender body, still pressed up against his. She was holding back, but she was as affected as he was. Her hands fisted and she pulled them back behind her, as if that might stop the trembling.
    Lucy McKinlay might be innocent. She might even be a common gold digger. But he had never wanted to claim and tame someone so much.
    â€œI—we—we’ll be late for breakfast,” she whispered and pulled dazedly from his embrace, took a couple of unfirm steps back.
    As if waking from a dream, he squinted at her, wondering what on earth had just possessed him.
    â€œI must get back.” Distance had made her stronger, firmer.
    She turned her back on him. He watched her walk to her horse, take some time inspecting the saddle, crooning to the animal. Her hat and gloves were next for a fastidious inspection before being tugged on—and all without looking at him once. Finally she mounted and nudged her horse with the slightest pressure of her legs and moved to Ethan’s mare, leaning down to collect the reins. “Are you coming down now?”
    He took the reins she held out and nodded curtly, telling himself he was relieved she did not want to talk about what had just occurred. He needed time to sort itout in his head. Not given to uncontrollable urges, he had to wonder if the magic of the landscape had somehow drugged him.

Four
    E than had scheduled a meeting with Magnus after lunch. On the way to the conference facility, he paused by the front door to look out onto the veranda. Juliette lounged on a hammock-chair that rocked gently as she moved her crossed ankles in a lazy circular motion. She read aloud from a glossy brochure or magazine. Lucy listened from the bench seat, her bare feet tucked up under her.
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