Son of the Enemy Read Online Free PDF

came back with more of everything and refilled her wineglass, then settled his big body back into his chair. This time he stretched his legs out on either side of hers, and the thought of his legs being open with her between them sent a delicious shudder through her.
    Get a grip, Hannah. This guy is trouble.
    Hazel eyes roamed her face, pausing at her lips, then held her gaze until Hannah realized she wasn’t breathing. She let out a breath and sat back. His eyes were still on her, and his legs were gripping the sides of her chair, as though he was trying to keep her from escaping. Normally she would be, but at the moment, all she could do was imagine what his lips would taste like, and how big he would feel inside her. That thought nearly had her up out of her seat and onto his lap.
    Holy cow.
    She cleared her throat. “So, is there something in particular you wanted to talk about?”
    “You. Me. The kids.”
    “You make it sound like we’re getting a divorce.”
    There was that damn smile again. “I think I like you with a couple of glasses of wine in you.”
    “Oh, yeah, that’s me. The life of the party.”
    Images of The Party—which is how she thought of it—invaded her mind. Walking up to her front door, drunk and nauseated, wrapped only in a scratchy police blanket. Her father’s face, cold and hard, thanking the cop for saving him the embarrassment of having to pick her up at the station. Taking the bag with her beer-soaked clothes and dumping them in the trash, then turning to her, his words cutting through her heart like a knife.
    You’re a dirty little tramp, just like your mother.
    Just like your mother.
    A finger lifted her chin, and this time the smile was missing. “Where’d you just go?” John asked, his voice as gentle as his touch.
    Damn it . She’d let her guard down. She picked up their bowls and hustled them over to the sink. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
    She turned on the tap, soaped up the sponge and went to work scrubbing bowls, pans, utensils with a zeal that was actually amusing, considering how allergic she was to housework.
    When John’s big hands grasped her shoulders from behind and began kneading her tight muscles, she nearly dropped what she was holding. God, his touch felt good. Too good. She opened her mouth to protest, but he spoke before she could.
    “You’re too tense,” he said. “Try to relax.”
    After a brief hesitation, she bent her head forward to give him better access. His body was close enough to her back for his heat to penetrate her sweater. A thrill shot clear down to her toes. She imagined his hands kneading her breasts and couldn’t stop the involuntary arching of her back.
    John leaned forward and whispered very softly in her ear, “That’s right.”
    She lifted her head and suddenly his face was in her hair. He rubbed his cheek against the side of her head, nuzzled her neck. The pleasure was so intense she began to tremble, and he wrapped his strong arms around her and pulled her back into his hard body.
    She grasped the arms that held her. “John,” she whispered. “We can’t—”
    “Sssh.” He turned her around in his arms, but she laid two fingers against his lips before they could cover her mouth.
    “If you kiss me,” she said, “I won’t be able to let you leave.”
    “Then I’ll stay.”
    She shook her head. “I won’t have a one-night stand with you.”
    “One night?” He laughed harshly. “One night with you wouldn’t be anywhere near enough.”
    She blinked up at him. He was right, of course. One night with him wouldn’t be nearly enough. Which was a good reason not to let him any closer.
    But her hand didn’t seem to care about reason, only about desire, as it moved to his cheek, grazing over the stubble, following the line of his jaw. He turned his face so her fingers met his lips yet again, but this time his eyelids slid lower and he opened his mouth enough for her to feel the slick wetness inside. He bit down