Page 34 of Illicit Temptation

I laugh. “It’s not a foxhole.”

He spins to face me, flames of war memories rising in his eyes. “That’s not funny.”

I swallow. “Sorry. Bad joke. Okay, you’ve gotten me someplace...”

The words die in my throat as Trace slowly slips off his suit jacket. “Take off that shirt.”

I tilt my head. “I could wear that jacket of yours as a dress, but it’s cold and my legs will freeze.”

“Don’t tempt me with that tasty visual, princess. I might call your bluff.” He tosses his jacket on a jacquard sofa and then unbuttons his crisp white dress shirt.

What’s underneath stills me. Stripped of the dress shirt, he stands there in a white ribbed sleeveless undershirt. His shoulders look carved from marble and his rounded biceps, covered in ink, are threaded with sexy veins down his lightly dusted forearms.

Already woozy from this glimpse of what he’s been hiding under his impeccably cut suits, Trace sends me over the edge when he lifts that white ribbed shirt over his head.

Bare-chested he stands there, and I need to hold on to something. Memories of his body weren’t faulty. Although, it hits differently when he’s vertical.

“Your turn, princess.”

My hands dangle at my side. “I assure you, my body is not as impressive.”

“I distinctly remember that it was.” He closes the spacebetween us. “Why don’t you show me again, and I’ll give you my assessment.”

Hopefully along with his cock...

Stop!

“Why are you doing this?” I don’t understand this attraction he has for me andwhyhe’s so unapologetic about reminding me of how we lost control that one night in Vegas.

“Because after one taste of you, I couldn’t forget you. I didn’t want to.” A cheeky smile builds on his beautiful mouth.

“From one time?” I take a breath.

“Princess, I fucked you all night long and you loved it.” He slowly unbuttons my coffee-drenched blouse.

I’m shuddering too much to stop him. I’ve gone completely boneless. Not numb. I feel every inch of my heated, aroused skin.

Shaking his head, he sighs, “I distract you too much. That’s not good bodyguard etiquette. You’re needed out there. And I’m keeping you, so let me help you undress.”

And I just let him...

He removes my shirt and growls. “Your nipples are hard.”

“It’s... It’s cold in here.” Of all days to wear a sheer bra.

He quirks an eyebrow and then presses his body against mine. “If I warm you up like this, will they relax?”

Not likely.

“Your shirt please.” I figure out he’s giving me his undershirt. I can wear that beneath my suit jacket, and no one will be the wiser.

I shockingly don’t feel the ache of missing Archer in my heart like I thought. God, that was a mistake. A bullet I dodged. And if I had any idea of letting him crawl back into my life when he once again realizes his wife isn’t the woman for him, thanks to Trace, I’ll never see him again.

Seems like athank you fuckis in order.

God, what am I saying? This man scrambles my brain. I whip the shirt from his fingers and turn around to put it on. My nipples are hopelessly still erect and straining against the bra.

“This is almost as good a view,” Trace breathes on the back of my neck.

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