Brent's Law Read Online Free PDF Page B

studying.
    Concentrating on preparing a salad while baking the chips and frying the steak, she tried to ignore Brent’s presence. When she reached for the dripping rack to drain the chips, a large hand shoved it under her nose. With a mumbled thank you, she refused to look at him. He stood right behind her, looking over her shoulder. So close, his breath fanned the tiny hairs on her neck and she could feel the heat from his body on her back. Willing her hands to stop trembling, she focused on not being scorched by the oil sizzling in the pan.
    “You have a delicious behind,” he whispered in her ear before returning to the table.
    Samantha locked her weakening knees and attempted to ignore the heat from his touch lingering on her backside. She glanced over her shoulder, but no one seemed to have noticed the exchange.
    Twenty minutes later, she put the food in serving dishes, retrieved plates from the cupboard and untied the apron.
    “Help yourselves, guys. I think I’ll have an early night.”
    Without waiting for a reply, she hurried outside and ran to her flat. He reached the flat before her and gallantly held the door open.
    “After you.”
    She waited until he closed it before she turned on him.
    “What are you doing here? Don’t you understand English? I don’t want to see you or talk to you.”
    He ignored her and scanned the room at leisure. “You have a cozy place here. Why aren’t you living in the main house?”
    “It’s none of your business.”
    He arched an eyebrow.
    “I rent the main house to the students. It helps to pay the mortgage.”
    “Clever and beautiful. I’m impressed.”
    She choked on his arrogance. “Look, this is getting ridiculous. By law, I should call your attorney and have you removed. Give me one reason why I shouldn’t do so?”
    His eyebrow arched again. “You’re as intrigued by the chemistry between us as I am?”
    Exasperated she shook her head. “You really don’t understand English. Listen carefully. I. Don’t. Want. You.”
    “Prove it.”
    “Dammit, I don’t have to prove anything to you. I am not interested in cradle snatching of any kind.”
    His laugh reverberated inside the room. “Lady, I haven’t fitted in a cradle for a long, long time. Besides, what does age have to do with me wanting to make love to you?”
    “Everything,” she sputtered. “Look, you have ten seconds to leave then I’m calling Rob. I don’t care if you’re famous and couldn’t give a flying fig about your reputation. I just want you to leave me alone.”
    He frowned. “You’re serious?”
    She nodded and proceeded to punch in the number. Her own reputation was at stake if he didn’t leave her alone. She wasn’t struggling financially, but she couldn’t afford to lose her job. The mortgage on the house still had to be paid.
    “All right. I’ll leave if you can prove your indifference to my touch.”
    “Like I said, I don’t have to prove…”
    He closed the distance between them before she could finish the words and cut off her reply with his lips. She stood motionless against the assault of his lips, fisting her hands to prevent them from slipping around his neck. He pulled her closer and crushed her breasts against his chest. She gasped at the intimate contact and he used her lapse to slip his tongue into her mouth, sliding it over her teeth and dueling with hers.
    Sensation exploded through her body and she grabbed onto his shoulders for support. Her mind took a hike when a muscled thigh parted her legs, rubbing her pussy against his leg. Re-igniting the dull ache to a slow burn.
    He lifted his leg, increasing the pressure and bringing her body flush against his. Soft against hard. Something inside her shifted. Then he pulled the elastic band from her hair and raked his fingers through the fountain spilling over her shoulders.
    “Damn, you smell good,” he groaned against her lips before burying his face in her neck.
    The pulse beating at the base of her neck