Who Wants to Be a Sex Goddess? Read Online Free PDF Page B

face. When she took it away, a smudge of pasty beige had transferred from her face to the napkin. Across her cheek was a patch of darker skin. Ms. Mouse had a tan…that she was covering up. Had someone told her a tan wasn’t sexy? Didn’t she ever watch television? Go to the movies? Maybe the tan stopped at her neck. That would explain the buttoned-up shirt.
    She stood up and tossed the napkin on the table. She mumbled something and stumbled away, leaving her glasses next to her plate.
    He grabbed them and went after her.
    By the time he reached the hallway, it was empty, which was strange since he’d been right behind her. He hurried down the hall, knocked on the door of the ladies’ room, and hearing nothing, poked his head inside.
    â€œMs. McAllister? Ariadne? Are you in there?”
    No answer.
    â€œI brought your glasses.”
    Nothing.
    He eased inside and knelt down to look under the doors to the stalls. No feet. No flowing white fabric. He sighed and went back the way he had come. The auditorium was completely dark. Surely she wasn’t hiding in the dark. “Ariadne,” he whispered. “Please come out, I have your glasses.”
    Still nothing. He ran his fingers along the wall until he came to the bank of light switches. He flicked them on. The room was empty except for rows and rows of folding chairs.
    The only place left was outside. In the dark. She was a disaster in the making.
    Dillon pushed through the double doors and took the front steps at a run. There was no one on the lawn, and a shiver of unease lifted the hairs on his forearms. Where was she?
    He headed toward the woods, where the lights from the cottages winked through the trees. It was really dark beneath the trees. He imagined her running blindly through the woods, humiliated and cold. She’d probably fall or run into a tree or something before she made it back to her cabin.
    He mentally kicked himself for reacting to that lascivious touch like an amateur. He just hadn’t expected it. It wasn’t every day that a total stranger slid her hand between his legs. At least, it hadn’t happened recently. And instead of playing it cool, he’d humiliated the most pitiful wallflower in Terra Bliss.
    He felt like a heel. And worse, he was worried.
    He began to run up the path. “Ariadne,” he called. “Wait. You forgot your glasses.” He stopped and listened. Heard nothing, not even the crunch of gravel beneath sandaled feet.
    He imagined her hurt and lying on the ground, too shy to call for help. He called again, fear making his voice warble in the night air.
    He was in a near panic by the time he reached her cabin. Not that she would be there. There was no way she could have beaten him. She’d have to be an Olympic sprinter.
    Her lights were on, but everybody’s lights were on. He was wondering if he should bother knocking when he heard a low sound. He froze, listened. Humming. A woman was humming.
    Cautiously, he followed the sound. It led him around the side of her cabin. He stopped suddenly as his attention fixed on the light coming through the bedroom window.
    A thin, lithesome figure was silhouetted by the gauzy curtains. She lifted her arms and his breath caught.
    The clinging robe rose along her body. The light caught the sensuous curve of her hip, the narrow waist as she wiggled free of the garment and tossed it aside. She paused, and he knew she was unbuttoning the shirt beneath. And he knew it had to be his mousy goddess, and yet….
    The shirt slipped from her shoulders, and the edge of a near perfect breast came into view.
    He shouldn’t be watching, but he couldn’t look away. He was vaguely aware of his dick hardening beneath his kilt, straining at the confines of the jockstrap. His mouth grew dry, and he seemed to be having trouble taking a simple breath.
    Could this possibly be the skinny, stooped, shy woman who just this afternoon had stumbled blindly