“I agree. As long as your job doesn’t interfere with mine.”
“You’ll hardly notice I’m here.”
Val's gaze skittered over the height and breadth of him, from his shoulders rising above the narrow padded bench to his feet sticking out from under the table.
When she looked back up at his face, her eyes were bright with amusement. “Now, why do I have difficulty believing that?”
Conn’s blood surged. His jaw tightened. He had a sudden vision of laying her down across the table in front of him like an exotic dish for his delectation. He wanted to free her hair to spill over the edge. He wanted to part her firm, round thighs and push inside her soft, warm body. He wanted to take that pale mouth with its full upper lip and watch those gray eyes darken in passion.
Conn set down the roll slowly. As a plan of action, it had a lot of appeal. As an approach to a woman he barely knew and was hired to analyze and advise, it probably lacked something. Subtlety, maybe. Sense.
His appetite for this woman unnerved him. Maybe this kind of reaction was appropriate for Patrick, blissfully happy with his new wife. It was only to be expected from Sean, whose appreciation for anything female was well-known and often indulged. But Con, the middle brother, the cool, logical one, had always let reason rule his selection of partners.
There was nothing reasonable about this attraction at all.
From The Comeback of Conn MacNeill
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