Bare Feet and Cherry Pie
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by Cissy Hassell
Description: A romance writer, Simone Beauvais, had seen her hero many times before. And, she'd written about him, she confessed. He was there in One Enchanted Evening, his long lean body sprawled across the rug in front of the fireplace. He was there in A Time for Loving, curled around her heroine's body after he'd seduced her and loved her until she begged for mercy. Then again in Just the Thought of You, as he'd made love to her heroine under a harvest moon, held in the circle of his arms as they'd listened to the rhythm of the surf kissing the shoreline. And in Your Loving Arms as she'd been beneath him on a secluded beach, moving with him in the night, the taste of salt on his skin as her lips brushed his neck, the moonlight streaming down on them. Even now she could feel the gentle rasping stroke of the beaded grains of sand on her back just the way she'd written it in her book. Only, what was she supposed to do now that she sat across the booth from him? She wanted to leave right away. No, she wanted to stay. Sigh, she didn't know what she wanted. Or did she?
eBook Publisher: Highland Press/A Wee Dram, 2006 2006
eBookwise Release Date: May 2011
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [37 KB]
Reading time: 20-29 min.
Lincoln Hayes stopped his forward movement, staring at the vision that stepped out of the car that had been driving along at a snail's pace. His mouth went dry. Her hair was dark, short and curly. Impatience drifted across her face. A face with unbelievable features. Arched brows formed to perfection. Eyes, thickly lashed, a mysterious shade of green. A short pert nose that he was sure could rise in disdain. Lips, luscious and shapely, beckoning him to walk right over and have a taste. And a come-hither body that had his own body flashing spasms of heat that matched the waves rolling off the pavement.
He placed both hands on his hips, taking a moment to clear away the images that had planted themselves in his brain. He was a police officer. There was no place in his line of work for this type of thing. Judging from the way she was dressed, she could be anyone, he thought tiredly, maybe even a hooker making her way to Nevada to ply her trade in the anything-goes city of Las Vegas. He knew he was being unfair, judging her simply because he was irritated at the day he'd had and she was the closest person to take out his aggravation.
He gave her one last thorough examination from head to toe.
Bare feet? Hmm. Toes? Tasty!
Glancing again at her features, he reached deep into his old academy days and sought for something. Her bare feet triggered a dim memory of an old and ridiculous law still floating around. Driving barefooted in this state was illegal, and if she gave him any trouble--and she looked like the type that would--he'd slam her pretty ass in jail so fast the polish would blast right off her toenails.
He drew in a breath at the idea of doing such a ridiculous thing and brought his gaze back down to her bare feet. Even her toes looked scrumptious. Toes that were indeed brightly polished a glaring red.
The woman--Simone Beauvais her registration had indicated when he called her license number in--seemed amused at his perusal and lifted a brow. Link cleared his throat and moved closer, his right hand resting on his weapon. These days you didn't take any chances, no matter how good they looked.
"I wasn't speeding," she began as he approached.
Damn. Her voice had to be sexy, too. It was throaty and dreamy, with a hint of mystery. And fantasies. Fantasies of sultry nights and silk sheets.