One Stolen Kiss Read Online Free PDF Page B

Achilles’ tendon this time, before resuming the light stroking.
    She could already feel the heat from his hands starting to creep up her calves to the back of her knees, sending far more distracting messages up her body than the ones arriving on her cell phone.
    “You haven’t had your feet massaged before?” he asked quietly, and she realised she hadn’t even responded to his previous dig. The tip of his finger trailed around her ankle-bone again, teasing through the sheer nude stockings.
    “ Of course,” she muttered indignantly. “I’ve been to a spa. They do feet along with everything else.”
    “ So he doesn’t do all of the right things for you.”
    “ You just don’t understand how things happen in New York,” she scoffed, and checked another message on her cell, with an inward groan. Yet another ‘Go girl! Great news! Let’s do lunch!’
    “ I don’t think New Yorkers understand how things work in the rest of the world,” he remarked, and his thumbs pressed into the most tender pads of her soles, rubbing the tension out of them. She caught her breath. “Too hard?”
    “ Um, no. That’s lovely…” She reached for her glass instead of the phone, and took a larger gulp. “Wow… You’re really good at this… you could be a masseur.”
    “ Hmm. Potential job description as compliment. That sounds very New Yorker.” He resumed the stroking again for a moment, and then tweaked the tip of one stocking at the end of her toes. “I think these need to come off. To stop unnecessary friction. You might have a blister already. I should check in case I make things worse.”
    “ If you must…” Christie put her glass back while her phone vibrated with more emails alongside, and retrieved it once more. Damn. Still nothing from Derek. Perhaps she should try his email instead…
    Adrik smirked at her dismissive reply, and let one of his hands slide up as far as the back of her knee and down again while she typed into her phone.
    “You are sure?” he prompted.
    “ Whatever…” Christie muttered. Should she start with Hi or Dear Derek or something else? What didn’t sound too desperate or panicky, or worse – drunk? Something casual? Hey D, have you heard the crazy rumour about me? Wild, huh? She doubted that would work. And not as solid as something like a report of an arrest to encourage him to come flying in like a knight to her rescue, in shining small-print reading glasses.
    Adrik’s fingers traced a small circle in the bend of her knee, and back down her calf to her ankle. A delayed reaction flowed up her body, and the glowing screen in front of her eyes went vague and blurry. Not unlike her reaction to hearing his voice for the first time again earlier, only even stronger than that.
    Her grip on the phone weakened, as his hand began its trail upward again. This time, after pausing in the curve of her knee, his splayed fingers brushed higher, beneath her skirt, and skimmed the very top of her stocking, millimetres from touching her bare skin, before sliding down again.
    As his hand closed around her foot once more, Christie’s phone suddenly vibrated with another message, and flew out of her hands straight into her half-full champagne glass.
    “I think you should turn that thing off,” Adrik suggested, while her heart tried to batter its way out of her chest. “Before one of us gets injured.”
    “ It’s fine,” she squeaked, shaking the drips off after fishing it out. “Just lost concentration for a second.”
    His hand was already at the back of her knee on the return journey up, inscribing small agonising circles through the thin fabric.
    “Put it down,” he warned, his eyes dark in the candlelight.
    She let the phone slip from her grasp. Her hands were suddenly powerless to hold onto it.
    Adrik’s fingers outlined the edge of her stocking a second time. Little sparks of electricity seemed to jump from her skin, trying to catch onto him, and as he retreated once more a soft