Intimate Read Online Free PDF

immediately—it was unnerving that she knew him so well. “I didn’t
realize I had a disapproving face,” he stalled, hoping to distract her
from the question.
     “Of course,
you do. You press your lips together, and you get four little lines on your
forehead. But don’t try your diversionary tactics on me. What don’t you like
about how I look?”
    He might as
well be honest, or she’d never let it go. “I think you should have left your
hair down.”
    Marissa ran to
the mirror in the dining room. “Well, you’re just plain wrong,” she announced
after a minute of peering at herself. “I put it up because it looks more
sophisticated. Why the hell should I have worn it down?”
    He came over to
join her and looked at her reflection. “You look more like yourself with it
down,” he mumbled, feeling kind of stupid as he said the words.
    “That’s why I
wanted to wear it up, but I think the sentiment is still kind of sweet.”
    He’d been
afraid she would think that.
    He shifted his
head and caught of glimpse of the mirror reflecting the two of them together.
Something about the image conjured that same heavy feeling in his belly, so he
looked quickly away. Decided to put an end to the moment.
    Only made the
decision too late.
    Because Marissa
was already stretching up to press a soft kiss on his jaw. “That’s for being
naturally sweet, even though you try your best to resist it.”
    Now both his
belly and chest felt uncomfortably heavy. “We’re going to be late.”
    “I love it when
you get embarrassed and blush.”
    He raised his
eyebrows and sneered. “I do not blush.”
    “Oh, yes, you
do. Now, let’s go, or we’re going to be late.”
    He started to
make a pithy comeback, but he swallowed the words awkwardly when she turned
around and walked toward the door in front of him.
    “Damn!” He’d
noticed there wasn’t much of a back to her dress, but he hadn’t realized how
much pale, smooth skin was really visible. The dress had a diamond-shaped
cutout in the back to match the one in the front—but this one was much bigger,
baring down to the small of her back. “It’s cruel to wear that dress when
you’re never planning to have sex. It’s like inviting people to your home and
then slamming the door in their face.”
    Despite his
words, he did feel a familiar possessive thrill at the knowledge that
this beautiful woman would be with him. That she would be going home with no
one else. It was exhilarating in a rather crude, macho way.
    Almost like she
was his.
    Chuckling, she
glanced at him over her shoulder. “Just because I don’t want to have sex
doesn’t mean I don’t want to look sexy.”
     “I hate it
when you dress seductively,” he complained, walking down the hall beside her.
     “I thought you
secretly liked it. Doesn’t it make you feel like a caveman?”
    He wished she
hadn’t recognized that about him. “Maybe. But it also means I’m going to have
to fend off over-enthusiastic admirers who are always trying to make a move on
my date.”
    “Ugh, like Kevin
Davison.” Her nose wrinkled in disgust at the thought of the particularly
offensive trombone player who had a thing for her.
    “You wear that
dress, and you’re on your own with Davison. I’ll not run interference when
you’re asking to be leered at.” He smiled to take the sting out of the words.
“Besides, I’ll be busy trying to schmooze, as I’ve been reminded repeatedly is
my primary task at this party.”
    “You’re good at
schmoozing.”
    Caleb put an
unconscious hand on her back as he led her out to where his car was waiting.
Then wished he hadn’t when he felt her cool, bare skin under his palm.
Withdrawing his hand quickly, he replied, “With donors and fans, maybe. But not
with the other musicians. They all hate me.”
    “Of course they
hate you. You’re a classical musician, but you have half a million followers on
your fan page. You’re First Cello in one of the top ten symphony