Stand-in Groom by Suzanne Brockmann Page A

anyplace else, either. Not unless both of them absolutely wanted it to.
    Johnny leaned even closer to her, catching her chin with his other hand. Her skin was as soft and as smooth as he remembered, and he felt a wave of giddiness. He was going to kiss her. Right now. The way he’d been dying to kiss her since Vegas. “Let’s try it and see exactly where it will lead.”
    “John—” She tried to pull away and he let her go.
    But his soft words kept her from standing up and running away. “The Farbers are watching.”
    Johnny saw her glance across the room, saw all of her uncertainty and trepidation in her eyes. But he saw longing too. And he knew without a doubt that she wanted him to kiss her—as much, if not more, than she
didn’t
want him to kiss her.
    He leaned forward, closing the gap between them, capturing her mouth with his, drinking her in. Whether she parted her lips willingly or in surprise, he didn’t know—and he didn’t care. For every inch she gave him, he was determined to take a mile. He pulled her closer, touching the softness of her arms and the delicate fabric of the dress thatcovered her back. He kissed her harder, deeper, feeling her hands against the back of his neck, first tentatively, then possessively, as she kissed him with equal abandon.
    And he knew in that instant that he was dead wrong. This kiss wasn’t just a kiss. It didn’t lead nowhere. In fact, it did quite the opposite. It led directly to temptation. It burned an unswerving path out of the restaurant, into the lobby, and up the stairs to the second floor, where they had adjoining suites. It pushed open the door to Chelsea’s bedroom and flung them both down upon her bed, arms and legs intertwined, clothing quickly removed until they were pressed together, skin to skin, soft flesh against hard muscle, straining to become one.
    The images that flashed into his mind were sharp and clear. Chelsea, naked, on her bed. Pale skin, perfect and smooth. Blond hair like spun gold fanned out against the stark white of the sheets. Her smile of welcome as she reached for him. Her soft hands gliding across his body. Her drawn-in breath and the expression of sheer pleasure on her face as he filled her …
    With herculean effort, Johnny pulled back,away from Chelsea’s lips. He watched her eyes flutter open, watched her pulse pounding in her delicate throat.
    His own breathing was ragged, and as she met his eyes he knew he’d only succeeded in thoroughly proving himself wrong.
    “Okay,” he said, reaching for alternatives. “So we
don’t
kiss. We can spend tomorrow together and just … not kiss.”
    She put her head in her hands. “How did I ever get myself into this?”
    “Tomorrow’s our last day here. I just want to be with you, Chelsea. I want to
talk
to you—”
    She didn’t even lift her head. “I don’t think I’m strong enough.”
    “I can be strong enough for both of us.”
    “But if you can’t?”
    “I can,” he insisted. “This is about more than just sex. I want to go to the beach with you tomorrow. I want to show you this great place to snorkel—I want to spend the day with you.”
    She rested her chin in her hand, looking at him for several long seconds before she spoke, searching his eyes, as if trying to read his mind. “And what about tonight?”
    Johnny took a deep breath. “I can say good night to you at the door to your room and then walk away. I can do that.”
    Her eyes lingered on his lips and she didn’t try to hide her attraction for him as she looked back up into his eyes. “And what if I tell you I want you to kiss me again? What if I ask you to come into my room and spend the night with me? Would you be strong enough to turn me down?”
    “I don’t know—” He cut himself off as he held her gaze, as he, too, let her see how badly he wanted her. “No,” he said honestly. “No, I wouldn’t be.”
    Time seemed to stretch way out as they looked into each other’s eyes, the truth laid