Page 119 of The Vacation Mix-Up
I grunt. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
She goes to lean back but pauses. “Don’t you dare drop me.”
A devilish grin stretches my face. “Never.”
“I mean it!”
“I won’t. Just…. Let’s just get this over and done with already.”
Dipping her a fraction, my eyes chasing hers, I deliberately let her fall a tiny bit before securing her again.
“Riley!” she squeals, nearly crushing my hand with hers.
“Jesus.” I chuckle. “I won’t. I promise. I’ve got you.”
She shoots me a menacing look, then relaxes, so I lower her again, this time slowly and steadily, her head falling back, my spread fingers supporting her nape. The skin of her collarbone glitters in the light—perfect, smooth, no doubt delicious. I stare at it, wondering how it would taste, and if I did press my lips to her skin, would I be able to remove them again?
All humor and antics dissolve, my heart pounding at an unnatural speed.
“Uh… Riley?”
“Yeah?” I reply, still staring at her delectable skin.
She lifts her head, neck strained. “I think we’re done.”
Shit!
I’m tempted to seize the opportunity while she’s helplessly trapped in my arms by kissing her as I did in the theatre, but despite what my mind and body want, I don’t do it. She might kick, scream, and cause a scene. And the last thing I want is to erase the progress we’ve made.
Lifting her enough for my mouth to graze her earlobe, I nudge her neck with the tip of my nose and whisper, “We’re done… for now.”
She gasps ever so slightly, her fingertips biting into my forearms as I spin her onto both feet again, her chest rising and falling as she smooths the satin of her dress down her thighs.
“Excellent!” The photographer claps. “Good dip, yes?”
Riles touches her ear, her cheeks rosy, her eyes ghosting mine. “Yes. A very good dip.”
He hands her a ticket. “You take this to the gallery.”
“Thank you. I will.”
“You’re not seriously going to buy one of those portraits, are you?” I ask her, stepping aside for the next lot of dummies to pose.
She cocks her shoulder and hugs the ticket to her chest. “I might.”
Chuckling, because she probably will, I ask, “Where to next?” hoping it’s back to the cabin, or somewhere private at least.
Riles fixes the lapels of my jacket, slots the ticket into my breast pocket, and links her arm with mine. “I made a reservation today at a bar on the top deck. Thought it would be nice to have a quiet drink before seeing the Northern Lights. Care to join me?”
What feels like a mild current of electricity jolts through my body. It’s been so long since I’ve walked with a woman on my arm. That sense of pride, purpose, and possession.
I grin. “Lead the way.”
“It involves an elevator ride,” she taunts.
“I’m sure I can handle it.”
She grips my arm tighter. “I’m sure you can too.”
