Relentless. Leslie Kelly

ocean breeze blowing across her. Looking at him out of the corner of her eye, she again noticed the strength of his face, the long lashes hooding his expressive eyes, and his hard body, hidden under the dress shirt and slacks.

      She wanted him. “How crazy is that?” she muttered out loud, ignoring his questioning glance.

      It was true. She wanted this gray-eyed man, wanted his hands on her breasts and his mouth on her throat. Wanted him on top of her. Beneath her.

      Inside her.

      “Oh, goodness, I definitely had too much to drink,” she whispered.

      Knowing she had no business even thinking such things did not halt the thoughts. They did, however, remind her of that last scene with Peter up in the suite. She wondered where on earth she’d found the courage to do what she’d done, to say what she’d said. Because she was a big, fat liar. She’d taunted Peter that she wasn’t a virgin. Whoops! Not exactly true.

      As ridiculous as it seemed in this day and age, Pamela, at twenty-six, was a virgin.

      Some people might wonder how she could have remained basically untouched all her life, but Pamela knew her upbringing and her job were the reasons. Growing up, she’d listened when her parents had talked about their respect and love for one another. Subconsciously, she’d wanted that for herself.