Page 3 of Deadly Secrets
She slipped off the bar stool and began making her excuses to the professors with her. They balked good-naturedly, and she feigned exhaustion and explained she needed to go over her notes before tomorrow’s lecture.
Mission complete, she turned to go when a hard body smelling of whiskey stopped her.
“Hello, gorgeous.” Roman invaded her personal space, pushing her up against the bar. “Damn, but you clean up nice.”
He topped six foot easily and, even in her heels, she had to look up to meet his gaze. She opened her mouth to say, “What the hell are you doing?” but as per normal, her lips moved and nothing came out.
The gazes of her companions were on her and her cheeks flamed as if on fire.Say something!“No.”
No?
Brilliant, Brooke.
“I believe the appropriate response tohello,” Roman said, placing his hands on either side of the bar, blocking her in, “is a return greeting.”
He was so close. All that masculine energy. Those sharp, intense eyes. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Wha…?” Oh, lord.Get it together!“What…what are you doing?”
The words came out soft and breathy, but Roman apparently had no trouble hearing them. “My buddies over there bet me I couldn’t get you to kiss me.”
Holy cow! He was definitely drunk. “Ki…kiss you?”
His gaze dropped to her lips and he grinned like she was a medium-rare steak and he was one hungry man. “Yeah, kiss me, gorgeous. What do you say? Help a guy out so he doesn’t lose a hundred bucks?”
He’d bet a hundred dollars that he could get her to kiss him? The nerve!
Laughter over something the comedian said erupted around them. Roman leaned in, putting his lips next to her ear, “Play along, Brooke.”
Goosebumps skittered down the back of her spine. She grabbed one of his arms and pushed. It was warm and very firm. “No.”
He didn’t budge.
One of his hands slid behind her neck, gently grasping her by the nape as he looked deep into her eyes. The laughter and clapping in the bar receded and she saw a flicker of concern. “Things are about to get dangerous,” he murmured, his lips so close to hers, she could smell his breath. It smelled like ginger and mint—not whiskey. “You need to get the hell out of here.”
And then, without warning, he brought his lips crashing down on hers.
It was brutal and heavenly at the same time. Her brain raged for half a second before shutting down completely.
Her eyes closed, the devil on her shoulder hooting as her bones went molten. Roman’s demanding tongue had no trouble parting her lips and slipping inside.
His muscled body pressed against hers, holding her to the bar. Against the wishes of the few brain cells still firing in her cerebellum, Brooke grasped his shoulders and pulled him closer.
And then he broke away, but his lips barely moved from hers.
“I’m serious,” he said so low she almost missed it in her lust-induced haze. “Get out of here, now.”
He released her as fast as he’d pinned her there, and she had to grab the edge of the bar to keep her weak knees from giving out.
As Roman returned to his friends and raised his hands in a Rocky gesture of conquest, they cheered. Still staggered from the kiss, Brooke could only watch as both men at the table slapped money into Roman’s hand as he returned to his seat.
He wasn’t kidding. They’d bet he couldn’t get her to kiss him.
Technically, he kissed me.
The devil on her shoulder snickered.
From his chair, Roman sent her a hard look.
Get out of here, now.
