Page 4 of Curvy Girl for the New Year

My heart starts beating a staccato rhythm in my chest. Could it be mine? Did I lose my bracelet at the New Year’s Eve party? Oh my god, was the man I kissed Adam Prescott, New York’s most eligible bachelor? "I don't know, Meg…"

Megan grabs my shoulders, her brown eyes intense. "It's worth checking, Kait. You never know. And I know how much that bracelet means to you."

I waver, biting my lip. The thought of facing the humiliation of revealing that I was the idiot who kissed a total stranger makes me cringe. But Megan is right. That bracelet is the last link I have to my parents. I owe it to them to find it, and I'm desperate enough to try anything.

"Okay, how do I respond to this announcement?" I finally say, steeling myself. Megan squeals and grabs my hand to lead the way.

My heart pounds as we approach the front desk of a massive skyscraper, anticipation and dread coursing through me in equal measure. I can't shake the memory of New Year’s Eve, the searing kiss that branded my lips and ignited a hunger I've never known. I’ve dreamed of that fucking kiss every night since it happened. It’s insanity.

What if it's him? What if Adam Prescott is the man I kissed? I mean, on one hand, I’ve have my bracelet back. On the other, I’llbe permanently embarrassed for life. I’ll probably have to crawl under a rock and hide forever.

Megan's voice snaps me back to the present. "Excuse me, we're here about the announcement. My friend here lost something very important to her." Megan pushes me forward.

The receptionist looks up, her gaze bored. She’s probably tired of all the women coming through guessing at lost items. "Of course. Can you describe the item?"

I swallow hard, my mouth dry. "It's a delicate silver chain with a small rose-shaped pendant. The petals are a pale pink. My parents gave it to me." My voice wavers slightly, the words heavy with emotion.

She stares at me for a long moment, giving me a long, assessing look before she finally picks up the phone. “Mr. Prescott, I believe we’ve found her.”

five

. . .

Adam

My heart pounds erraticallyas I race out of the elevator, the secretary's words echoing in my mind.

She's here.

The woman who's haunted my every waking thought since that fateful masquerade ball. I storm into the reception area, my eyes scanning the room with fierce intensity.

And then I see her.

Wide green eyes, framed by a tumble of wild curly hair, stare back at me in shock. Recognition flashes across her face and I drink in the sight of her, no longer hidden behind an ornate mask. She's even more breathtaking than I remembered. A curvy angelic beauty with plump, rosy lips and creamy skin that I long to touch. Totaste.

A dark-haired woman stands beside her, but I barely register her presence, my gaze locked on the innocent yet alluring creature before me. Desire surges through my veins, hot and demanding. I take a step closer, fighting the overwhelming urgeto close the distance between us and pull her into my arms. To claim her mouth with the searing kiss I've been craving since she disappeared into the night.

I take another step forward, my body thrumming with a primal hunger I've never experienced before. She has bewitched me, body and soul. And I won't rest until I make her mine.

"It's you," I growl, my voice rough with barely restrained need. "I've been searching for you everywhere."

She blinks at me, her cheeks flushing a delicate pink, and I panic.

She looks like she might bolt again, and I’m gun shy from the last time she ran from me.

I react on instinct, reaching out and grabbing her hand before she can get away again, my grip firm as I pull her towards the elevator. My heart pounds in my chest, terrified she might try to run from me again. I can't let her slip away, not when I've finally found her.

As the elevator doors close behind us, I turn to face her, my eyes drinking in every detail. Those captivating green eyes, the soft curves of her body, the way her auburn curls frame her face. I ache to pull her flush against me, to feel her softness meld into my hardness. But I restrain myself, barely.

"Your name," I demand, my voice rough with need. "Tell me your name."

She looks up at me, eyes wide and lips parted. "Kaitlyn," she whispers. "Kaitlyn Bennett."

Kaitlyn. The name echoes in my mind like a prayer. I want to taste it on my tongue, to hear her sigh it as I explore every inch of her.

My hand tightens on hers as I fight the urge to haul her into my arms. "Kaitlyn," I repeat, savoring the syllables. "Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me? How desperate I've been to find the woman behind the mask?"

She trembles slightly and I wonder if she can feel the electricity crackling between us, the magnetic pull drawing us inevitably closer. I need to touch her, to assure myself she's real and not just another haunting dream.

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