The Fairy Tale Bride by Scarlet Wilson Page A

around the table. “What’s with all the cakes? Couldn’t you decide what to make? I thought we were having dinner?”
    She shrugged her shoulders. It was almost a pout. But Lisa probably didn’t know how to pout. “I guess I was trying to impress you.”
    He raised his eyebrows. “And why would you want to do that?”
    Another loaded question. They were getting good at these.
    She handed him one of the glasses and stepped a little closer. “Give me a minute to get changed.”
    Her scent filled his nostrils. Flowery, peachy with a hint of something else.
    He couldn’t help it. As he reached for the glass his other hand reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Don’t,” he said quietly.
    “Don’t what?” she asked, her brow wrinkling.
    His eyes were fixating on the up and down movement of her breasts hidden underneath the thin material. It clung to every curve, bunching up around her waist, barely covering her hips and leading him downwards to her shapely slightly tanned legs.
    Her legs shifted under his gaze. “You don’t want me to get changed,” she said throatily.
    “Oh no.” He downed his wine in one gulp, setting the glass down and hooking his other hand around her hip and pulling her closer. He couldn’t stop the smile on his lips.
    She didn’t object. She didn’t object at all. Just looked up at him through heavy eyes and tilted her head to one side. “I thought you preferred me in dresses?” There was a hint of teasing in her voice.
    It was already a warm evening. But the temperature in here was sky high.
    “Oh no,” he said slowly, “I definitely prefer you in shorts.” He pulled her up against him. “Definitely in shorts.” His finger stroked down the side of her face, catching the hair on her shoulder and pulling it back to reveal the delicate skin around her neck.
    She sucked in a breath as he lowered his head and whispered in her ear. “Maybe even in something less.”
    She shifted her position, leaning back against the table covered in cakes. “Adam Brady, I spent all afternoon baking for you. Aren’t you even going to try some out?”
    He loved it. The tone of her voice. The teasing. It was as if telling him about her sister and why she spent so much time at the hospital had just lifted a weight off her shoulders. It had brought them closer together. She was more relaxed around him. And he liked it. A lot.
    There was no way he was letting her out of his hands. So he moved forwards, practically pinning her to the table, his full body weight against hers. “Where do you suggest we start?” he said hoarsely.
    She leaned to one side, her breasts brushing against his chest. This woman was going to drive him crazy. One of his hands lowered, brushing against the smooth skin of her thigh and he felt her muscles tighten against him.
    “Or how about we make this more interesting?” he said, reaching around her and pushing the cakes to one side. It only took a second to hitch her further up on the table. She started to laugh. A sultry laugh, from deep within her as her legs parted to allow him to get closer.
    Before she could lean back he grabbed the hem of her loose t-shirt and pulled it over her head. “I’ve just decided how I want to eat my cake,” he said.
    She leaned back on her elbows, her pale blue eyes fixed on his. “I think this works both ways.”
    He didn’t need to be told twice. The shirt was yanked over his head in an instant. He picked up the nearest piece of chocolate and cream gateau, balancing it beneath the curve of her breasts. His hands smeared the cream underneath the wire on her bra and across her quivering belly.
    He lowered his head as she watched. He moved his hands to either side of her, leaning on the table, his head and shoulders just hovering above her. She flinched and pulled her stomach tighter as his warm breath danced over her skin.
    “I like to take my time over dessert,” he said huskily.
    Her head fell backwards as her body arched towards his.