“Why is it I can’t get you out of my mind? You say we haven’t met,
but my dreams remember you.”
Oh yeah, he’d dreamt of a woman
for months now. She resembled his dream woman in so many ways, but he’d never
seen his fantasy lover’s face.
She struggled against his
clutch. “Mr. Alcott, I assure you we haven’t met. And for your other question,
I don’t know why,
but you need to release me.”
Why did that quivering bottom
lip make him suspect she was lying? Turner rested his forehead against the top
of hers and sucked in her scent. “Please, tell me I’m not losing my mind. Tell
me you don’t visit me every night and I’ll promise to leave you alone. I just
need to know.”
He sounded like a crazy man but
she had to tell him. She was the only one who could put a stop to his mind’s
constant fantasizing, and this feeling of déjà vu every time he saw her.
Ice wriggled in his arms, her
thighs chafing against his slacks. “Mr. Alcott, you need to let me go.” She
glanced around his shoulder. “Brodie is probably staring out that glass window
and I would hate for him to get the wrong impression.”
She was right. He needed to
get ahold of himself, but he didn’t have the strength to walk away. His
hands traveled up and over her shoulders, stalling on her neck. Brushing his
thumbs against her jaw, he pressed her head back and stared into hard eyes—no
emotion. Couldn’t she see the battle he fought?
He teased the corner of her
mouth with his thumb and her breathy gasp pleased him. So, she wasn’t
completely immune to him. He dropped his head until his mouth hovered over
hers.
“Mr. Alcott—”
“Shhh. I just need a taste of
the sunshine.”
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