Page 55 of 7 Days and 7 Nights

She tingled at his touch. “You think I’ve had too much to drink?”

“I know you’ve had more than you’re used to.”

“Never felt more in control in my life,” she said. She tried to wink at him, but her facial features no longer seemed to work independently. “You should consider going into counseling. You’re not bad to talk to.”

“Now I know you’ve had too much.” His smile caused her heart to perform a funny sort of flip-flop. Her limbs felt too heavy for her body, and she could hear a loud whooshing in her ears, which seemed to be the blood rushing through her brain.

“Except for JoBeth’s boyfriend. You’re making a real mess of that.”

“Am I now?” He didn’t seem at all upset by her criticism. In fact, his voice felt as warm and wonderful as a caress.

Olivia picked up her empty wine glass and tilted it around, searching for something to drink. She eyed the little that was left in the bottle with disappointment. “Are you going to drink that last bit?”

She squinted her eyes to try to get rid of the extra Matt swaying in her line of vision, as the roaring in her ears grew louder. Lifting her napkin to dab daintily at her lips, she somehow jammed it into the side of her nose, then stared at the napkin in confusion as it drifted out of her fingers and fluttered to the floor.

“Oops." That definitely couldn’t be her giggling, because she detested women who giggled. Enunciating very carefully in an effort to maintain some semblance of dignity, she said, “Can you excuse me for just a minute? I seem to have dropped something.”

Then her bones melted beneath her skin, and without warning, she slid off her chair and landed in a heap at Matt Ransom’s feet.

Chapter Eighteen

Matt watched her disappear, and for a minute or two he sat and chewed, assuming she’d surface when she found her napkin. By the time he finished his last bite of potato, it occurred to him that she might be injured or unable to get up.

Since his back was already to the cameras, he slid his chair back and lowered himself to the floor, out of camera range, where he found Olivia sitting beneath the table, her napkin in her lap.

“You okay?”

“Absolutely." She waved the napkin airily at him but made no move to get up.

“Olivia?”

“Umm-hmm?”

“We’re sitting on the floor under a table.”

She nodded solemnly, her eyes wide.

“You realize this is not usual after-dinner behavior?”

“ ’S’okay. I don’t feel usual.” Her smile was crooked and went straight to his heart.

As he took in the surprising sensation, she got on all fours and crawled over to sit beside him. She sat so close he could feel the shallowness of her breathing and read the intention in her wine-clouded green eyes even before she tilted her lips up toward his.

She kissed him, and his entire body hardened. Without thought, he reached out and pulled her closer.

Looping her arms around his neck, she crawled into his lap, where she pressed her breasts against his chest.

“God, Livvy.”

She took his hand in hers and guided it up under her dress, where he discovered just how little separated him from the place he most wanted to be.

He groaned. “Tell me you’re not wearing the thong.”

“Sorry,” she breathed in his ear, though it was clear she wasn’t. “Didn’t mean for you to know.”

He ran his hands over the smoothly rounded buttocks, down the silky thighs, and back up to cup the triangle between her legs. With his thumb, he manipulated the sliver of satin until she moaned and the strip of material grew damp.

Hot and hard, Matt went up on his knees to bring their bodies closer together and banged his head against the kitchen table—knocking some sense into his lust-filled brain.

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