By Robert Edward Gardner
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Additional info for American Arms & Arms Makers
Caleb almost groaned out loud. He dipped his head, then paused, his mouth a breath away from hers. Skimming his fingers along the curve of her jaw he watched her eyes darken to aged whiskey with anticipation. She dragged in a ragged breath. Not fear. Excitement. He wanted to kiss her so badly he shook with it. Hoisted by his own petard. ” Helpless to prevent it, good intentions be damned, Caleb’s vision blurred as he closed the gap. He shut his eyes as his mouth touched hers. Not giving her time to think.
And not a dog bite. ” An understatement, Caleb knew. He’d seen people who’d been hit by shrapnel. This was bad. But it could’ve been a whole hell of a lot worse. He leaned over and brushed his lips across the slightly raised marks on her left butt cheek, feeling more than hearing her hmm of pleasure as his mouth skimmed her skin. ” What was the real story? Why in God’s name did a socialite have shrapnel cuts? ” Where were your bodyguards? Who did this? And why? Not only couldn’t he ask the questions, they were none of his damn business, he reminded himself.
He could smell her soap or shampoo. Fresh. Clean. Female. Not expensive perfume, just soap and the natural fragrance of her skin. Being this close to her was like an aphrodisiac. Good in a torturous kinda way. He’d never been this turned on by a woman seated three feet away. And damned sure not when in a public place. He wanted to lean over and kiss her. Ludicrous that he was even thinking it, let alone this freaking tempted to throw caution to the winds, give in to the craving, and do it. If she’d been any other woman in the world, he wouldn’t have hesitated or given it another thought.
American Arms & Arms Makers by Robert Edward Gardner