“Do you mind?” she asks, placing one hand on her hip, the other pointing to the door. Does she think she’s intimidating me? Because all I can think about is how cute she looks in that pose.
She starts to turn a little red and I don’t want to piss her off so I stand up straight and move to the side.
I place my hand on my stomach and bow slightly, extending my hand, “It’s all yours, Bell.” I stress Bell to show her I paid attention.
Her face goes blank. Now what did I do? She turns away as quickly as she can and just as she’s about to knock, she pauses and looks over at me again. “What are you doing lurking outside of Sloan Bennett’s door, anyway?”
Her tone is so sassy that I can’t help but grin. “I just interviewed her for the society page. What are you doing, may I ask, lurking in the hallways of her hotel?”
Her jaw drops. “You write for the wedding column?” Then she mocks me with a laugh.
I feign offense because that’s all I can do—something in the universe isn’t right if this is now my job. I grab my heart. “You wound me with your mockery.” I want to show her that I can laugh at myself.
She glances at her wrist as if checking the time and ignores the fact that she’s not wearing a watch. She stands even straighter. “Well, I’m Sloan’s wedding planner and I’m late.” She turns around and knocks on the door.
I don’t say anything as the door opens, and I watch her walk inside. She doesn’t give me a second glance, but I give her one. I stand there and breathe in the scent of lemon left in the air. Then once the door is closed, I walk toward the elevator and remember that smell from another time.
I smelled her sweet scent the first time she approached me in the library, although I wasn’t sure what it was. The next time we ran into each other I knew for sure she smelled of lemon. Yellow, juicy, ripe lemons like I’d pick from the trees in my mother’s yard so she could make fresh lemonade. Her scent drove me crazy. It created urges in me no other girl should have been able to provoke. Seeing her made me feel like the devil was really trying to fuck with me. Especially when it seemed everywhere I went she was there—the library, the campus coffee shop, and even my own frat house. I did enjoy talking to her but knew our conversations would never be contained to a strictly friends level. I did my best to minimize our contact. I knew she wanted more than I could give—it was in her tone every time we spoke and the way she flirted with me. I had a girl that I loved so I walked away every time . . . until the night came I no longer could.
At the sight of the elevator doors opening to let me enter, I let go of the memory of how she used to watch me, like she knew me, like she got me. And instead I think about how her sexy little walk caught my attention—I liked it. And I still do.
Chapter 7
If I Never See Your Face Again
Long hair drapes over me, tickling my chin, my chest, my legs as she moves down my body—silky red locks that I could twist my fingers around. Soft flawless flesh, warm to the touch, that smells so delicious I wanted to taste her. Bright green eyes, like emeralds, peek up at me from under thick, long lashes—eyes I could get lost in. Lush full lips sear my skin with each kiss, so wet, so full, and always eager—a mouth that commands, demands.
Fuck. I wake up in a cold sweat. I’ve been dreaming of her, of our one night together in college, ever since I saw her in the hotel. It was a night full of passion, of my darkest desires being met, but I was in love with Dahl. I never should have slept with someone else while I was in a relationship. So why did I let her tempt me? Why had I given in to her? The simple truth was I wanted her beyond my willpower to fight that urge. For years I had tried to expunge that memory because I was committed to Dahl. But it was a night I could never completely erase from my mind and now it’s back.