Almost a Lady by Heidi Betts Page A

house is another matter entirely. Especially if your supervisor doesn't have the faintest notion!"
    "What are you getting so upset about?” Willow asked. “It's not like you're responsible for my welfare."
    "You could have gotten hurt,” he ranted. “Or worse, one of the customers could have decided that you were as good as any other whore in the place."
    That rankled. “Beverly made sure everyone knew I wasn't for hire. And there were some rather large bouncers who kept an eye out for me."
    "How convenient,” Brandt snapped. “So why didn't these overly attentive bouncers happen to notice you sneaking in and out of the place dressed like a man?"
    "Because I was dressed like a man!” she yelled back. “And because I was careful."
    "Not careful enough, obviously, or you wouldn't have let me get the drop on you."
    Her pride stung. Her hackles rose. “You may have gotten the drop on me, but you did not best me. Or did you forget that it was my knife that nearly unmanned you?"
    By this time they were on their feet, hands on hips, faces red with anger. Mere inches of empty space separated them.
    "You may have held a knife to my groin, but you didn't have the nerve to do anything about it."
    Willow blanched at his tone of voice. “I'll show you nerve,” she threatened. “Give me a knife and I'll gut and geld you before you have time to blink."
    Brandt seemed at a loss for words after that declaration. His cheeks turned pink. His lips thinned into a chalky white slash across his face.
    "You're a tease,” he said with no real conviction.
    "You're a cad,” she tossed back, not in the least offended by his remark.
    "You're a lying, conniving little harlot."
    Her eyes widened for a moment at that one. “You're an obnoxious, conceited bastard."
    "You're a manipulative little twit."
    "You're an arrogant scoundrel."
    "You're a dim-witted old maid."
    "You're a brainless Neanderthal."
    His jaw locked. His voice became rough. “I want you."
    She swallowed hard, feeling an undeniable heat climb its way up through her stomach. “What are you waiting for?"
    Brandt reached her in one stride. His arms came around her in a vicelike grip, cradling her close to his chest. His lips were like fire, licking, burning her tender skin. Their mouths met in a powerful, passionate kiss, scorching in its intensity.
    Willow moaned as her legs gave out. Without breaking the kiss, Brandt swept her up in his arms and made his way to the bedroom. He whipped back the covers and deposited her in the middle of the bed, following her down. His lips trailed away from her mouth, marking a path of wet, sucking kisses down her throat.
    Her head fell back, granting him greater access. The weight of his torso resting between her legs sent shivers of excitement through her limbs. Her fingers went to the front of his shirt, deftly releasing the buttons and pulling the tails from the waistband of his trousers.
    His hands smoothed down her sides, stopping at the belt of her robe. With a quick tug, the narrow tie came loose. The red satin fell open to reveal the nearly transparent material of her shift. He slipped an arm around Willow's waist and lifted her so that the robe fluttered from her arms to the sheets.
    He eased her back onto the mattress, then moved away. Willow cried out at his sudden absence and then took a sharp breath when she saw that he was only discarding his own constricting clothing. He came back to her, splendorously naked.
    A hand raked beneath the shift, forcing the material up as his hand stroked her hip, belly, the underside of her breast. She lifted her arms and allowed him to slip the annoying article over her head.
    "Brandt,” she whispered. And the sound was swallowed up by his mouth. His tongue delved deep, tangling with her own, drawing her into a maelstrom of hot, fevered emotions and tiny, mewling cries.
    His hands kneaded her breasts, his thumbs making devastatingly arousing circles over each nipple, drawing them into hard,