She lifted the hem of the dress in one hand and moved to the door, her bare feet silent on the thick carpet. “One of my fiancés?”
He started slightly at the sound of her voice right behind him, then turned to face her, his amber gaze flicking down, then up. “You’ve been proposed to a lot since you moved in across the street.”
Ohh. He’d seen both Jim and Bryan last weekend. That damn heat burned her cheeks again as she quipped, “Nosey much?”
His shoulders lifted in an unapologetic shrug. “Both happened outside of your house in plain view for anyone to see.”
Yeah, if you were watching my house all day.
That should creep her out. Instead, her pulse fluttered with the idea he was interested enough to watch. Not to mention, Mae would be justified in calling her Kettle again, seeing as she’d checked out his house across the street an insane number of times.
“Two times hardly qualifies as a lot,” she pointed out, trying not to get distracted by the yummy scent of his cologne. “And it’s not—”
“In one week, two times is a lot. Not to mention you had a completely different date at the wedding.”
He sounded annoyed—looked annoyed—but why the heck would he even care? If anyone had the right to be annoyed right now it was her. Unfortunately, she had to go through him to get out of his bedroom.
Speaking of which, if anyone had told her she’d end up in Hot Photographer’s bedroom tonight, she’d have laughed. Now she just wanted to cry at the injustice of it all. The one guy in how long who got her engine revving and he turned out to be a Diamond—and her neighbor to boot.
She tried to see out into the hall, but his tall body and broad shoulders took up too much space in the doorway. She felt tiny in front of him without her shoes on, and even with them on, he’d still have more than six inches on her. “Is anyone else out there? Your sister maybe?”
Hopefully.
“Nope. It’s just us.” His brows drew together in a slight frown. “Relax. It’s not like I’m going to do anything.”
Unfortunately.
Oh, for crying out loud!
Thoroughly irritated with herself and him, Honor drew in a deep inhale and spun around to present him with her back. The skirt swirled and settled around her legs as her nose registered the contrasting layered scents of his cologne. Mint and lavender, spicy cinnamon and sweet orange blossom, and finally, vanilla and sandalwood.
Closing her eyes in a silent prayer of resolve, she reached up to drag her hair forward over her shoulder. “My zipper is stuck. Do you mind?”
CHAPTER 8
Seconds ticked by one by one. Acutely aware of each beat of his heavy pulse, Asher stared at the seductive allure of Honor Hartman only inches away. He clenched his fists at his sides while drawing in a deep, fortifying breath.
A combination of vanilla, butter, and almond assaulted his senses. Oh, sweet heaven. She smelled like cake. God hated him right now, didn’t he? Or maybe this had all been set up by the devil.
Tempting him to sin with the forbidden fruit.
It had to be. The front view of her dress had been bad enough, with the unzipped material gaping enough to show glimpses of her strapless bra and the swell of her full breasts above sexy, black lace. The back view was downright torture with her shiny red hair pulled forward over her shoulder, exposing her spine all the way down to where the edge of her panties peeked above the zipper.
Can’t stand here all night—and walking away a third time isn’t an option either.
Well, not a good one, anyway.
He flexed his hands a few times, sucked in another mouth-watering breath to shore up his willpower, and finally reached for the zipper. It was stuck all right, with the burgundy material caught between the delicate teeth. He tugged gingerly to avoid ripping the fabric, breaking the zipper, or actually touching her.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to touch. It was the wanting it too much that was the problem.
“Back in February, I was proposed to three times in one day.”
Her shameless boast was accompanied by a smug smile over her bare shoulder. Her words turned into white noise when his gaze connected with her through-the-lashes upward glance. The setting sun lit her gold-flecked green eyes and gave her beautiful profile an angelic glow.
His fingers fumbled the zipper and his knuckles brushed against the warm, silky skin of her back. Her grin faltered, and she averted her gaze with a swift inhale that echoed his own.
Geezus, he’d give just about anything to lean forward and press his lips to the flushed hollow at the base of her neck. Then he’d tease that fluttering pulse of hers with the tip of his tongue…