Janelle Denison
Private Pleasures
1998
***
Every man has a weakness, and for Grey Nichols, it's Mariah Stevens. He's crazy about her, and he can't imagine his life without her in it. Never has he met a woman who complements him so perfectlyand he decides there's only one thing left for him to do-propose that she move in with him.
As far as heroes go, Grey is as irresistible and charming as they get. Not to mention gorgeous and sexy! I'd have a hard time resisting his proposition, but Mariah has strong beliefs. Even though she's head over heels in love with Grey, she can't accept his cynical views toward love and marriage. And she certainly won't settle for anything less than a lifetime commitment.
Private Pleasures is my first book for Temptation. It's a thrill for me to be among the many Temptation authors I've read and loved for years. I hope you enjoy reading about Mariah's greatest challenge-leading her reluctant groom to the altar. And the story doesn't stop there! Next month, Mariah's sister Jade finds a man who makes her every fantasy come true, in Private Fantasies, the second part of my two-alarm BLAZE.
Enjoy,
Janelle Denison
To Dad, who has shown me that with hard work and
dedication, I can do or be anything I set my mind to.
To Mom, for your support, encouragement and
unending pride.
To a treasured friend, Jamie Ann Denton, for more reasons than simple words could ever express.
And as always to my husband, Don, who gives me the
confidence to believe in myself. You are the reason all my
dreams have come true.
Mariah Stevens tiptoed around the shadowy bedroom, quietly picking up her scattered clothes so she wouldn't wake the man sprawled on the huge cherry-wood bed dominating the masculine room. Hunter green bedsheets were tangled in his long, muscular legs, and by sheer luck managed to drape over his hips just enough to cover him modestly. But the rest of his body was baregloriously, magnificently bare.
Looking away from that distracting chest and lean belly, she concentrated on her search. In her eight months of dating Grey Nichols she'd seen him naked plenty, but the sight of him never failed to arouse all her feminine instincts. One touch, even a simple, chaste caress, had the ability to melt her heart and body. The scoundrel knew it, too, and used that knowledge to his advantage.
Moonlight spilled into the room from an unshaded window, shimmering off her teal suit skirt and panty hose. She retrieved the items and added them to the neat pile at the foot of the bed, then picked up her slip.
Grey stirred, and she glanced in his direction. He stretched like a big, lazy cat, muscles and sinew rippling with the movement. The sheet dipped low as he reached toward the side of the bed she slept in when she spent the night. His hand grappled with air, her vacant pillow, then fell slack. His sable lashes drifted open and their eyes met. She stilled.
He had the most fascinating eyes. Like chocolate spun with the finest gold. Seductive, warm and altogether too sexy. She remembered thinking when they first met that he had bedroom eyes, the kind that had the ability to undress a woman in a single, sweeping glance, or make a woman shed her inhibitions and undress for him. He'd managed to do both.
A familiar honeyed warmth flowed through her, and she resisted the urge to do exactly what those incredible eyes were asking: take off the shirt she wore and slide back into bed.
The piece of lingerie slithered through her fingers like quicksilver and pooled on the rest of her garments. "Hi," she said.
"Hi, yourself." His voice was a sleepy rumble, his smile pure, unadulterated sin. "What're doin'?"
"Picking up my clothes." Finally spotting her panties by his walk-in closet-how in the world had they gotten clear across the room?-she scooped them up and put them on.
Rolling to his side, he leaned on his elbow and propped his head in his palm, watching her as she bent over. "The view is great, honey, but three hours after the fact isn't the time to start worrying about your clothes being wrinkled."
"I know that." She shot him an exasperated look, tempered by a soft smile. "I need to go."
He glanced at the glowing digital clock on his night-stand, then back at her. "It's past midnight. Stay the night."
"I can't." She disappeared into the bathroom for a moment and returned with a brush she kept in a drawer Grey had given her for her things.
He frowned. "Why not?"
She turned on the brass lamp on the dresser, illuminating the room with a soft glow. Pulling the brush through the tangles in her long, waist-length hair, she met his gaze in the mirror. "I don't have a change of clothes and I have an early appointment with a very important client."
"Let Jade handle the account."
At the mention of her sister and interior design partner, she shook her head. "He specifically asked for me." Separating her hair into three parts, she began braiding the blond strands. "He's a very conservative businessman who wants to redecorate his office. I'm afraid Jade's splashy, offbeat visions would scare him away."
Grey chuckled, the sound low and intimate in the dusky room. "You've got a point. Her clientele does tend to run toward the eccentric."
"That's why we work so well together." Finding an elastic band on his dresser, she tied off the end of her braid and flipped it over her shoulder. "We each have our own style, which gives our clients more variety."
He crooked his finger at her. "C'mere and I'll show you some variety."
"I've got to go, Grey." Regret tinged her voice. "Really."
He sighed heavily. "I hate it when you sneak out on me, you know that, don't you?"
She rolled her eyes at his exaggeration. "I never 'sneak' out on you." Opening one of his drawers, she rummaged through the contents until she found a pair of soft, drawstring sweatpants.
"Now what are you doing?"
"Borrowing a pair of sweatpants so I don't have to wear my suit home." She approached the bed, one brow lifted. "Do you mind?"
"Yeah, I mind." Quick as a snap, he manacled her wrist and tumbled her onto the bed. Quicker, he pinned her beneath the heat and strength of his body. She gasped and stared into dark, predatory eyes fueled with purpose. The sweatpants fell from her fingers and slid to the floor.
"Do you know," he said in a slow, deliberate drawl, "that you look great in my shirt?"
The meltdown began, liquefying her bones. When he wielded that seductive charm of his she couldn't resist him. Didn't want to. It amazed her how tender and playful Grey could be when they were alone, the ruthless, arrogant facade he presented to the rest of the world gone. "Yeah?" she prompted huskily.
"Umm." He nuzzled her neck while he unbuttoned the shirt in question, his fingers brushing the swell of her breasts. "You look even better wearing nothing at all."
She closed her eyes and automatically arched her neck for his mouth. A shiver of anticipation cascaded down her spine. She had to stop this madness.
"Grey-" His name escaped on a wispy catch of breath.
He lifted his head to stare into her eyes. "You fit perfectly into my life," he murmured.
Her heart skipped a beat. His words were the most intimate declaration he'd ever given her. She'd often wondered about fitting into his life, considering the unconventional way their relationship had evolved-quickly, and with a fiery passion that had both terrified and thrilled her. Grey was like no other man she'd ever known.
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