Deliciously Wicked by Robyn DeHart Page A

know.” She took a deep breath and held her chin out. “If this criminal thinks he can run willy-nilly in my father’s factory, then he’s not prepared to deal with me. That being said, if you’re worried about me getting hurt, I can assure you, I can take care of myself.”
    â€œNo, I wasn’t worried about that.”
    â€œOh.” That pinched. Why wouldn’t he be concerned for her safety? Any decent man would be a tiny bit worried. Or at the very least spend a moment with a furrowed brow.
    They worked in silence for several minutes. Each working on one last box. Meg held the last mirror in place, then paused to examine her work.
    â€œIt appears we have completed the task. They look nice, don’t you agree?” she said.
    He looked around the table, but only shrugged in response. He released a great sigh. “I don’t work well with others,” he finally said. He stood and walked over to her side of the table, close to the door. “I’ve done enough tonight. Thank you for your help.”
    â€œHave you tried it?” she prodded.
    He was growing impatient. She could tell by the tight clench of his jaw and the sharp movements of his hand.
    â€œTried what?”
    She stood, but did not dare move closer to him. “Working with others? Don’t you have to do that here? What is the difference with me?”
    â€œThe difference?” he grumbled. “Let me tell you the difference. The men in this factory dress a little different from you.” He came to stand in front of her. He leaned in and put his nose beside her left ear and slowly inhaled. “They smell different from you.”
    Chills scattered all over Meg’s body, and she felt her breasts tighten. Oh my . What she’d pegged as annoyance apparently was nothing less than desire. Desire for her, in particular. Her pulse sped up, as did her breathing.
    He leaned even closer, and she felt his warm breath on her neck. She closed her eyes just as he took her earlobe in his mouth and suckled it.
    â€œI would imagine they taste much different too, although for that one I have no base of comparison,” he said.
    Desire coiled so quickly through her body, she feared she would melt into the wood-planked floor. She turned her head ever so slightly, and he grabbed her fiercely and pressed his lips to hers. His body molded against hers, pressing her already sensitive breasts to his chest. He pushed her onto the table and fell over her, all the while trailing hot kisses over her neck, collarbone, and ears.
    She wanted him. Wanted whatever pleasure he could give her. It was wrong. Improper. Immoral. And completely irresistible.
    His lips met hers and his tongue tantalized her. Teasing, licking, stroking until she thought she would go mad. She reached behind him and pulled him down to her and slanted her mouth, giving him full access. Their tongues stroked and played, and shivers cascaded over her like delicious waterfalls of pleasure.
    She felt his arousal push into her belly, and she instinctively pushed against him. Wanting more, wanting release, wanting him.
    His hand slid up her abdomen and cupped her right breast. Her back arched instinctively, and she felt hernipples harden. Gracious, she’d never felt such sensations. He kneaded the sensitive flesh, and the tingles between her legs intensified.
    With a movement full of impatience, he slipped his hand beneath her bodice and stroked her aching nipple. His mouth left hers and blazed a trail to her ear, then down her throat.
    She bucked erratically against him.
    â€œOh, Gareth,” she breathed.
    â€œBlast!” he said, then rolled off her. He stood against the door, with his hands clenched at his sides.
    She slowly came to her feet, but had to grab on to the table so she would not fall. “What’s the matter?” she asked. “If you’re worried about my maid, she’s napping. Falls asleep every evening by