Her Sinful Secret by Sylvie Kaye Page A

responsible and self-employed in finance. Picture attached.
    She opened the attachment. He looked hot. Thick dark hair, smoky dark eyes, square jaw, ruggedly handsome. Her throat went dry and her heart thumped. He looked young. As her pulse baselined , she read further. He was thirty-two, and too young for her.
    But who knew how recent his photo was? In the lunchroom Grace had cautioned Marsha. “Don’t think guys don’t lie about their ages. The ones that do will send younger, slimmer, more muscled photos than the actual man who shows up to meet you.”
    Wendy stared at the picture, crossing her fingers and toes that it was outdated by about ten years.
    What to do? Before she could chicken out, she scanned a flattering picture of herself from her cousin’s wedding. The snapshot wasn’t too close up and was perfectly angled to show off her best feature, her legs. She attached it to the email and hit Send .
    Within the hour, she had her reply. He wanted to meet.

Chapter Two
     
     
     
    Curiosity brought Wendy to the cosy Italian restaurant and a table reserved for Max Kanton . She was twenty minutes early and he hadn’t arrived yet.
    Even though they’d emailed back and forth the past week, and he’d seemed witty and intelligent, her stomach jittered. Suppose he really was only thirty-two. To calm herself, she doodled a sketch on the wine list of the flickering candle in its angled holder. Her palms dampened, so she wiped them on her linen napkin, tossed the pen back into her purse and sipped ice water to keep her vocal chords from drying up with sudden panic as the hour ticked closer.
    “Wendy.” A male voice, deep and low, vibrated through her.
    She looked up. Wow. He was hotter and more gorgeous than his picture. Doubt flooded her with little hope that he was older than he claimed. She didn’t know if she could handle a ten-year age difference, although her pulse, fluttering with immediate interest, thought it was no problem.
    She inhaled him as his masculine presence surrounded her. He smelt faintly of a woodsy , musky cologne. Sexy, desirable, thrilling. He was dressed in dark slacks and a dark shirt, well-tailored. His belt and shoes were expensive leather.  
    When he touched her shoulder, a shiver skittered across her flesh. His fingers were long and warm and lingering. Hunger seeped through to her core. It had been a long time since she’d desired a man who was real and within touching distance. Carnal memories flooded her veins with throbbing heat.  
    “You’re beautiful.” His delicious voice thrummed through her again.
    She hadn’t heard those words in ages. When pressed, Fred might’ve said she looked nice.
    ‘So are you’ didn’t seem an appropriate response so she murmured, “Thank you.” He removed his hand and she ached to have him touch her again. In many places. Dark, wet ones which hadn’t been touched by a man in so long memory failed her.
    He sat across from her and signalled the waiter. “Should we order wine to settle our nerves?”
    Young, handsome, athletic build. What did he have to be nervous about?
    “It might take a whole bottle to settle mine,” she said in all honesty. “I’m rusty at dating.”
    “I’ll be gentle if you will.” He winked.
    And her heart flipped at the insinuation. Her body screamed to do him, while her mind warned she was robbing the cradle. But a few glasses of wine should numb her mind.
    “Red or white, sweet or dry?” he asked as the server arrived.
    “You choose.” Living alone had made her indifferent to what she drank or ate. “I’m easily pleased.”
    “I hope not.” His eyes raked over her face, settling on her mouth.
    She felt her lips pulse, ready to be kissed. No, ravaged. With lots of sucking and licking and nibbling. She swallowed a sigh.
    He ordered Soave. Once the waiter returned, decanted the wine and left, Max lifted his glass. “To an exciting evening.” He smiled, his teeth white and even, his mouth firm and full and