Page 13 of Stealth Mission
Face heating like I’m an egg on hot pavement, I make a failing attempt to clear my throat. “I owe you an apology for this morning.”
Croak. Croak.I sound like a frog in heat.
He straightens, tugging his shirt cuffs down, and steps closer. Now we’re inches apart.
“No apology needed. I’m just glad you weren’t injured in the robbery.”
My heart speeds as his clean, warm scent wraps around me, The tropical evening breeze is blowing right this way, carrying his pheromones. A one way road right to my brain.
I draw a shaky breath. I can feel my pulse everywhere. As in EVERYWHERE.
I can’t put together a rational thought when my clit is throbbing like a drumbeat. So I look anywhere but at him for an agonizing moment.
Somehow, I manage to reply, “They never hurt anyone.”
When his head tilts, his focus sharpens. Dark gray irises turn to the color of night sky. “This happens a lot?”
“Every few months. I was away at college for a while and since I got back, I hardly ever come to town. Fortunately, I’ve managed to avoid the problem until this morning. It’s just something that people here put up with.”
This displeases him.
But that’s not what I find most interesting. I like watching his eyes. The way they go hard and stone-still, but also have this energy behind them.
When he thinks, the color deepens.
Is that really possible?
Always being the curious type, I want to test this theory to find out.
He speaks, jolting me back from my musings. “Well, now I know that you’ve just gotten back from college, and that you don’t like guns, and you have a tractor, but I’ve yet to learn your name.”
His extended hand makes the little hairs on my arms stand at attention. Praying my hand isn’t as wet as my panties probably are, I extend my palm. “I’m Marianna.”
He holds my gaze as his hand presses against mine.The size difference is crazy. His fingers completely engulf me all the way up to my wrist.
“I knew you’d have a beautiful name. How could you not, as pretty as you are.” He lets his gaze drift over my face, stopping when our gazes are locked. “Call me Walt.”
I blink very slowly, paralyzed from my eyeballs down. I can’t think or breathe with him touching me.
He runs hot. And electric.
Run, girl, run.
Instead of taking off like my tail is on fire, I stammer, “N-Nice to meet you in a more conventional way. I promise not to hit you with a tractor part again.”
“I like this much better.” A sexy, earth-tilting smile softens his eyes, pulling me in even more.
Then over Walt’s shoulder, I see my worst nightmare walking my way.
A grating male voice rises above the music. “There you are! I see you’ve met Mr. Goodlove.”
Great. What a way to ruin a moment.
Chapter Six
Marianna stiffens. Her energy pulsing with annoyance as she leans in toward me. Keeping her voice to a whisper, she grumbles, “I’m apologizing in advance.”
“Want me to handle him?”