Here Comes the Bride Read Online Free PDF Page B

swirled around her. She could only taste and feel. Him. The rough demand of his mouth.
    It was everything she’d imagined, yet like nothing she’d ever experienced before.
    His hands found her face, cupping it, while he drew her deeper into the delicious contact. She should pull away, she knew, but she couldn’t find the strength to stop this madness.
    Then he drew back, the heat of his palms still on her face as he held her close. He let out a ragged sigh, then withdrew his hands, too. She was shuddering from the effects of the kiss. And so was he.
    “I, uh, think I’d better get you back to your hotel,” was all he could manage to say.

THREE
    “How does Camille feel about her mother marrying?” Fiona asked Nick the following day.
    For the past hour she’d been trying desperately to keep her focus on the problem they were supposed to be discussing. But ever since Nick had picked her up at the hotel, her mind kept getting derailed onto how stupendous last night’s kiss on the starlit veranda had been.
    “We can’t count on any help from that corner, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Nick replied. “Camille’s always believed in letting people, including her mother, do their own thing. She does her own thing, tramping around the world, whenever and wherever the mood strikes her.”
    “A real free spirit, huh?”
    “You got it.”
    Fiona huffed and puffed to keep up with Nick. She hadn’t known the day’s agenda would include a hike up the side of one of the mountains that ringed the city, but Nick claimed this was where he came whenever he had things to think about.
    And today they had a knotty problem to think over, that was certain.
    Fiona had dressed for the hot desert weather in a pair of yellow cropped pants and a scoop-neck top, not for the cool mountain air. But Nick had tossed a gray-striped sweatshirt at her, which she’d donned thankfully.
    The thing fit her like a pup tent, hanging well below her rounded bottom, the sleeves dangling several inches past her wrists, but it was warm.
    It also carried the scent of the man it belonged to. Clean and earthy and—sensual. Wearing something of his against her skin was equally sensual. Like putting on a lover’s shirt after a night of slow, sultry sex. Not that she’d had a lot of actual experience in slipping into such apparel.
    “Where is this place you’re taking me?” she asked, nearly tripping over a rock in her path. She needed to keep her attention on where she was going instead of on the feel of Nick’s clothing against her body.
    “It’s not much farther. Want to stop and rest?”
    “I thought you’d never ask.”
    Fiona sank down onto a flat rock at the side of the trail. She was out of condition, she decided as her breath came in gasps.
    Nick barely seemed winded. Either he was in great physical shape or he was part mountain goat. She couldn’t fault his form, though, as he came to stand in front of her, looking as rugged as the terrain around him.
    His dark brown hair glistened in the sunlight that slanted through the trees, and his eyes rivaled the blue of the sky overhead. His body was as hard as a tree trunk. A faded black Bally’s sweatshirt stretched across his chest like a second skin, and a pair of well-worn khaki cutoffs hugged his legs.
    “Drink?” he asked, handing her a bottle of Evian he’d tucked into a backpack for them.
    “Yes, thanks.” She took a swig, a small one, then handed him back the bottle.
    She’d wanted more, but more would necessitate a trip behind a tree at some point in their hike, and she didn’t want to go home with a case of poison ivy on her backside.
    Okay, she was a city girl, through and through. She admitted that and wished they could have scheduled this planning session in a comfortable coffee shop—if Las Vegas hadsuch a thing. So far all she’d seen were casinos and one very private bar.
    Besides, of course, this uninhabited mountain.
    When she didn’t make any effort to get up