“Can we just start over?” Marlie asked. She held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Marlena Jenner. I’m a producer at Back Bay Productions in Boston. I’d like to talk to you about making a documentary about the Irish author Aileen Quinn.” When he didn’t reciprocate, she wiggled her fingers. “Come on. It goes both ways.”
Dex laughed and took her hand. “Really? And what did I do to mislead you?” She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut, yanking her fingers away. Dex gave her a dubious look. “What?”
“You wanted to kiss me,” she said, tipping her chin up defiantly.
“I did not.” God, was he that transparent? Usually he was much more discreet about his desires. “Where did you get that idea?”
“I can just tell,” she said.
“Oh, really. How? From your vast knowledge about men? Irish men, in particular?”
She sat back in the seat and crossed her arms over her chest. “You don’t know anything about me,” she said.
“And you know next to nothing about me,” he countered.
“I know what you want.”
“Prove it.”
What happened next happened so quickly that Dex wasn’t able to stop it. In one quick movement, she leaned over, grabbed his face between her hands and kissed him. At first, he wasn’t sure what to do, but then he took advantage of the invitation and slipped his hands around her waist, pulling her closer.
Her lips parted slightly and he slipped his tongue into the sweet warmth of her mouth. When a tiny sigh slipped from her throat, Dex took it as another invitation and dragged her body on top of his until he could run his hands over her backside. His pulse pounded, the warmth of desire pumping through his body.
The kiss ended as quickly as it began when Marlie drew back and looked at him with a wide-eyed gaze. “I—I think I’ve made my point.” She scrambled over to her side of the SUV and quickly fastened her seat belt. “We can go now,” she murmured.
“Bloody hell, you must really want me to do this project.”
“I do,” she said. “It’s imperative.”
“Imperative?”
“Yes, no one else could do it like you could.” She drew a sharp breath. “I mean the documentary,” she quickly added. “Not the kiss.” Marlie cleared her throat. “But the kiss was good, too.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought you meant.” He started the truck, his heart slamming in his chest. He’d never reacted so strongly to a simple kiss.
“Just so you know, that’s not usually part of my pitch. Nothing is going quite the way I intended.”
“Will there be more kissing involved, or is it all business from here on out?”
“Would kissing you make you more inclined to take the job?” she asked.
“Probably not,” he replied.
“Then I suppose that’s the last time I’m going to kiss you.”
“Good,” he said, throwing the truck into gear and pulling out onto the road.
Though Marlie Jenner would provide the perfect distraction from all the pain he’d experienced in the past eight months, he wasn’t about to use her just to satisfy his own lust. He wasn’t ready to work again, and nothing she offered him, even a few enjoyable kisses, was going to change his mind. Once he got her back to the cottage, he’d send her on her way.
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