Page 74 of Unlawful Seduction

He was having fun.

I’d accomplished my goal.

The craziest thing happened. I should be freezing even with wearing one of his bulky sweatshirts and thick socks, but I wasn’t. I was tingling with warmth all over from my core to my inner thighs, a burning white-hot heat floating up through my chest.

When he rolled me over, we were both panting.

And laughing.

There was a moment, that moment, the one in movies and books where the hero and heroine were locked in their own measure of time. No one could interfere. There were no other lights or sounds. Just the two of them basking in a beautiful experience.

His smile faded slowly as his eyes were tinged darker.

I pressed one hand against his chest, kneading his jacket in my fingers. Seconds ticked by and my heart continued to flutter. What was the sudden array of emotions? That wasn’t like me.

He was leaning over, his hands resting in the snow. “You’re so… Damn, woman.”

“Good at what I do?”

“I wouldn’t say that.” He leaned over and I was mesmerized by his flushed cheeks. Even his eyes were sparkling.

“You’re smiling and admit it, you’re happy and having a good time. That means I’m like a queen of good times.”

Woof. Woof!

Jax was beside himself, hopping from one side to the other.

“A queen, huh?” He scooped up some snow, holding his arm over my face. “That makes me your king. Just admit it.”

“Never.”

He arched his arm and cocked his head, lifting a single eyebrow. “You need to rethink that, Doc.”

“Or what?”

Woof!

I gave the pup a look, winking at him. He growled and hunkered down, enjoying the show as much as I did giving him one.

“Or.” He almost managed to pummel my face with the icy mess, but I shoved his arm aside, even able to roll him over onto the snow. When I straddled his waist, he acted as if he was shocked, but I knew better. He was allowing me to believe I was winning.

Bastard.

His full-fledged grin had returned. He was enjoying himself.

“You’re something special, Doc. You really are.”

“I knew I could get you to smile. I am a doctor after all. Speaking of which. How is your wound?”

He rolled his head in the snow, his frosty breath spilling across my face. “We just had a snowball fight and you’re asking about my injury?”

“Well, you never allowed me to tend to it, insisting on handling it by yourself.”

“I’ve been doing that for years.”

“How many gunshot wounds have you endured?” As soon as I asked the question, I pulled back. He wasn’t going to go down the road of his dangerous life. He’d already told me that. “I’m sorry. What about making snow angels?”

“What?” He was thoroughly confused.

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