Scooter down upon the woman's chest, then stepped back, folded his arms, and prepared to watch the show.
Sure enough, the dog acted just like she did with Jake almost every morning. The dachshund poked out her snoot, stuck out her tongue, and started licking the lady's face.
Jake almost always awoke at the first wet stroke of tongue. Scooter got the woman five times—twice right on the mouth—before her lashes fluttered and lifted.
"Hello, wee sweet pup," she murmured before her eyelids sank once more.
Jake snorted. He couldn't believe it. She even slept through this?
Then Scooter gave her a particularly enthusiastic lick and the woman's brow furrowed. "Finally," Jake muttered.
One arm flexed, pulling at the bindings. Then the second repeated the action of the first. Her frown deepened as her hands fisted and simultaneously pulled at the strips of silk.
She opened her eyes and focused on the dachshund. Then she blinked. Her eyes narrowed. Blinked again.
Then, the spirit spoke. "Thank God 'twas the dog that kissed me. For a moment there, Texas, I feared it was you."
* * *
The problem with bravado, it could backfire on a woman. Some men one simply didn't challenge. Jake Delaney was one of them.
And Jake Delaney was back.
A part of Gillian recognized she wasn't terribly surprised. Nor was she afraid of him. Well, not very afraid. She should never have mentioned kissing.
A variety of emotions glittered in the Texan's eyes as he loomed above her. She read threat and anger and indignation. Anticipation and... megstie me ... lust.
"Afraid of my kisses, are you?" he drawled, as he plucked the dog from her chest and set her on the floor. He propped one knee on the bed and leaned over her, his hands supporting his weight on either side of her shoulders.
Gillian swallowed hard as her pulse accelerated. She hadn't intended to dare him. She wasn't that foolish. She was tied to a bed and at the mercy of a man who was basically a stranger. She should be frightened to death.
But she wasn't.
It was because of Scooter. He was so kind to the dog. He wouldn't hurt her. She was certain of it.
Delaney's gaze dropped to her mouth. "Aren't you going to answer me, darlin' ? Does the thought of my kiss scare you?"
No, not at all. Thrill was a better word for what she felt. But she dare not tell him that.
As the moment dragged out, the tension thrumming in the air thickened. Gillian's mouth went dry. He would do it. He wanted to do it. She could see it binning in his emerald eyes.
What should she say? What answer would distract him? Did she even want to distract him?
No, she wanted him to do it.
Gillian bit back a groan. Now that was being foolish.
He lightly brushed her cheek with the tip of one finger, though the look in his eyes was anything but gentle. Maybe he would kiss her, then not stop. She knew that sometimes men, and even women, lost control during the heat of passion. She might feel safe, but the reality was that as long as she was tied, she was vulnerable.
Now, suddenly, Gillian felt nervous.
She drew a deep breath, prepared to scream. He clapped a hand over her mouth before she managed so much as a peep. "Don't do it, darlin'. Don't make me have to gag you. Now, back to my question." The hand covering her mouth shifted to cup her cheek. "What's your answer? Are you scared of my kiss?"
One more tender touch and she'd be lost. Gillian cleared her throat and used truth as her defense. "Yes, the thought does frighten me, Mr. Delaney. My experience is limited and has left an unpleasant taste behind. The last man I kissed broke my heart."
He drew back and scowled down at her. "Limited and unpleasant. Are you trying to provoke me, or do you simply not know better?" After a slight pause, his eyes narrowed and he added, "Or maybe you mean to wave your words around like a red flag in a bullring. Are you asking for it? Is that it? Do you want me to kiss you?"
The man was an excellent observer.
"No," she lied. "Of
Sure enough, the dog acted just like she did with Jake almost every morning. The dachshund poked out her snoot, stuck out her tongue, and started licking the lady's face.
Jake almost always awoke at the first wet stroke of tongue. Scooter got the woman five times—twice right on the mouth—before her lashes fluttered and lifted.
"Hello, wee sweet pup," she murmured before her eyelids sank once more.
Jake snorted. He couldn't believe it. She even slept through this?
Then Scooter gave her a particularly enthusiastic lick and the woman's brow furrowed. "Finally," Jake muttered.
One arm flexed, pulling at the bindings. Then the second repeated the action of the first. Her frown deepened as her hands fisted and simultaneously pulled at the strips of silk.
She opened her eyes and focused on the dachshund. Then she blinked. Her eyes narrowed. Blinked again.
Then, the spirit spoke. "Thank God 'twas the dog that kissed me. For a moment there, Texas, I feared it was you."
* * *
The problem with bravado, it could backfire on a woman. Some men one simply didn't challenge. Jake Delaney was one of them.
And Jake Delaney was back.
A part of Gillian recognized she wasn't terribly surprised. Nor was she afraid of him. Well, not very afraid. She should never have mentioned kissing.
A variety of emotions glittered in the Texan's eyes as he loomed above her. She read threat and anger and indignation. Anticipation and... megstie me ... lust.
"Afraid of my kisses, are you?" he drawled, as he plucked the dog from her chest and set her on the floor. He propped one knee on the bed and leaned over her, his hands supporting his weight on either side of her shoulders.
Gillian swallowed hard as her pulse accelerated. She hadn't intended to dare him. She wasn't that foolish. She was tied to a bed and at the mercy of a man who was basically a stranger. She should be frightened to death.
But she wasn't.
It was because of Scooter. He was so kind to the dog. He wouldn't hurt her. She was certain of it.
Delaney's gaze dropped to her mouth. "Aren't you going to answer me, darlin' ? Does the thought of my kiss scare you?"
No, not at all. Thrill was a better word for what she felt. But she dare not tell him that.
As the moment dragged out, the tension thrumming in the air thickened. Gillian's mouth went dry. He would do it. He wanted to do it. She could see it binning in his emerald eyes.
What should she say? What answer would distract him? Did she even want to distract him?
No, she wanted him to do it.
Gillian bit back a groan. Now that was being foolish.
He lightly brushed her cheek with the tip of one finger, though the look in his eyes was anything but gentle. Maybe he would kiss her, then not stop. She knew that sometimes men, and even women, lost control during the heat of passion. She might feel safe, but the reality was that as long as she was tied, she was vulnerable.
Now, suddenly, Gillian felt nervous.
She drew a deep breath, prepared to scream. He clapped a hand over her mouth before she managed so much as a peep. "Don't do it, darlin'. Don't make me have to gag you. Now, back to my question." The hand covering her mouth shifted to cup her cheek. "What's your answer? Are you scared of my kiss?"
One more tender touch and she'd be lost. Gillian cleared her throat and used truth as her defense. "Yes, the thought does frighten me, Mr. Delaney. My experience is limited and has left an unpleasant taste behind. The last man I kissed broke my heart."
He drew back and scowled down at her. "Limited and unpleasant. Are you trying to provoke me, or do you simply not know better?" After a slight pause, his eyes narrowed and he added, "Or maybe you mean to wave your words around like a red flag in a bullring. Are you asking for it? Is that it? Do you want me to kiss you?"
The man was an excellent observer.
"No," she lied. "Of
Similar Books
