She couldn’t have said which course of action her cousin Cassie would have chosen. But for Kate, who’d become quite adept at maintaining a cool and calm composure, it was think first, react second. Kate didn’t believe in hysterical fits—particularly not when she had tears in her eyes. She did, however, believe in well-thought-out retaliation. Someday .
Finally turning her attention to the person she’d nailed, she sucked in a breath. “You.”
Mr. Gorgeous. Jack. This is so not my day .
“Nice to meet you too,” he said with a sexy grin, as if they were exchanging handshakes instead of being practically wrapped around one another on the steps of the Tea Room.
He made no effort to move away, seeming content that her hand was on his shoulder, her belly pressed to his hip and her leg between both his thighs.
Of course, Kate didn’t move, either. Funny thing the sudden lethargy in her limbs. Particularly considering the sharp heat shooting from the tips of her breasts—which brushed against his shirt—down to her stomach. Lower.
“Did I hurt you?” she whispered.
“Only my ego when you ran away from me a few minutes ago.”
Kate blinked, but remained still, somehow unable, or perhaps unwilling, to break their intimate contact. Her breaths grew deeper as she watched him stare at her. His gaze studied her long, dark hair, her face, her mouth. His eyes glittered and a smile played about his sensual lips, as if he liked what he saw.
As did she. Up close, he was even more devastating than he’d been from across the street. Tanned skin, square jaw, beautiful green eyes with lashes a cover model would envy. Her fingers tightened slightly into his cotton shirt.
Move, Kate. Put your hands in the air and step away from the hunk.
“Are you married?” he asked.
She shook her head. But before she could ask him why he wanted to know, before she could do anything—including disengaging their much-too-close-together bodies—he moved closer. Kate thought she heard him whisper the word, “Good,” just before he caught her mouth in a completely unexpected kiss.
Kiss? A gorgeous stranger was kissing her, in broad daylight, outside Mrs. McIntyre’s Tea Room?
That was as far as her thoughts took her before she shooed them away and focused on what was happening.
Yes, the kiss was unexpected. And unbelievably pleasurable.
She didn’t try to step back, didn’t shove him away and slap his face as she probably should have. Instead she let him kiss her, let this incredible stranger gently take her lips with his own. Soft and tender at first, then more heated as he slipped his hands lower to encircle her waist and pull her even tighter against his body. As if they weren’t already so close together a whisper couldn’t have come between them.
As the kiss went on, she briefly wondered if she’d fallen asleep, if she was still at the motel where she’d spent the previous night. Maybe she’d popped one too many nickels into the Magic Fingers and they’d gotten her all worked up so she was having an amazingly intense, erotic dream.
Kissing had never been this good in real life. Besides, no man this perfect could exist in this nightmare of a town.
So she could be dreaming, couldn’t she? And if it was merely a dream, couldn’t she, uh, kiss him back?
She softened her mouth and tilted her head. Feeling the flick of his tongue against the seam of her lips, she whimpered, continuing to tell herself that this couldn’t be happening. The beeping of a passing car horn and the musty damp-wood smell of the old porch on which they stood were merely realistic elements of her dream. These weren’t real lips now tugging gently at hers, tasting her, exploring her. She hadn’t fallen into the arms of a complete stranger…and stayed there quite happily.
Feeling a few drops of rain plop down from the striped awning over the Tea Room’s porch onto her face, she focused on their descent down her cheek. Cold water. Warm kiss. Gentle tongue. His clean, male scent. Hard chest pressing against hers. A thrilling bulge in his pants pressing firmly against her lower belly, which made her rise up on her tiptoes to line things up a little better. The sudden hot flood of moisture between her thighs. Definite car horn beeping. Nosy-faced old lady stepping around them to go down the steps to the sidewalk.
The clarity of detail assured her she was not dreaming.
Insanity . She didn’t care. His breath tasted minty as his mouth caressed hers, gently, then deeper. She moaned slightly, deep in her throat, no longer able to pretend this wasn’t real, knowing she had to either just go for it, part her lips and let their tongues tangle and mate, or else shove him down the steps.
Kate’s rational side said to shove. For once she told it to shut the hell up.
Her entire body hummed with energy. She lifted her leg, sliding it against his, delighting in the friction of her stocking against his trousers. As he moaned and pushed closer, she considered how simple a thing it would be to lift her leg to his hip, to let him pick her up until she encircled his waist with her thighs. To slide onto the wonderfully hard erection straining against the seam of his pants.
She wanted to. Desperately. If only there were no car engines, broad daylight…and the minor fact that he was a complete stranger.
He finally pulled away and smiled gently at her. She shook her head hard and gulped, noting the slowness of a passing car, the curious stare of a face in the window of the Rose Café across the street. Finally she took a wobbly step back. “You’re insane.”
He stepped forward. Following her. “No, I’m Jack.”
Kate shook her head, still bemused. “You kissed me.”
“I’m so glad you noticed.”
“You can’t go around kissing strangers on the street. How could you do that? Just…just…kiss me?”
He shrugged. “You said you weren’t married.”
“What if I were engaged? A novitiate? A lesbian?”
“Engaged isn’t married, so I’d say tough luck to the guy.” Grinning, he continued, “Novitiate would simply be a crime against mankind, definitely worth ignoring.” He glanced down at her trembling body, his stare lingering on the hard tips of her breasts, scraping so sensitively against her blouse. Then at her legs, which she had to clench together to try to stop the trembling. Not to mention the hot, musky smell of aroused woman.
“Lesbian isn’t even in the realm of possibility,” he finally said, his voice nearly a purr. “You want me pretty badly.”
Her jaw dropped. He tipped it up with the tip of his index finger. “Now, introductions. Remember? I’m Jack. It’s very nice to meet you. Who are you, and what in God’s name are you doing in Pleasantville?”
She ignored the question. “You followed me.”
He didn’t try to deny it. “Guilty.”
That stopped her. “Why?”
He shrugged. “Fate? Instinct?” Then he lowered his voice, almost whispering as he leaned even closer until his body almost touched hers from shoulder to knee. “Or maybe so I could see what color eyes my children are going to have?”
Kate opened her mouth, but couldn’t make a sound come out.
The man was unbelievable. Outrageous. Sexy. Charming and heart-stoppingly handsome.
And still standing much too close. So close she could see his pulse beating in his neck and the cords of muscle on his shoulders. His upper arms were thick beneath the tight navy cotton of his shirt, so different from the Chicago health club addicts she sometimes dated. As if he didn’t work out for his health,