Читать книгу Lipstick On His Collar - Dawn Atkins - Страница 2

They led straight to Miranda’s bedroom, lit with clusters of flickering candles. Soft jazz played and the air smelled of roses mixed with vanilla and spices. The trail of rose petals led to the bed where Miranda lay.

She was on her side in a suggestive pose, wearing white lingerie, transparent except for leafy vines that coyly covered her. She was breathtakingly beautiful—she looked like erotic innocence.

And she was trying to seduce him.

His capacity to think went south and his vow to resist her evaporated. Desire pounded through him and all he wanted was to put his hands all over her. Now.

She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I thought we might finish what we started….”

Who was he to fight her? He crossed the room, yanking off his clothes as he moved.

“I poured you a bath,” she murmured.

“Honey, if you think I’d let a bath come between me and you looking like that, think again!”