So why did he suddenly want to strip her naked and bone her into next week?
What the hell was wrong with him?
Given the circumstances, his response bordered on the depraved, but knowing that seemed to make no difference. His body was a throbbing ache. He tried again to ease away from her, but she nestled into him. Immediately he was engulfed by the light, fresh scent of flowers.
He glanced down again, seeing the shimmer of her nails and the elaborate silver cuff on her narrow wrist that was obviously one of her own unique designs, forcing himself to admit the truth: he was turned on by a woman who set off every alarm in his body. The type of high-maintenance female he went out of his way to avoid.
And he was taking her back to his hotel room.
Last time he’d helped a woman in trouble it had ended badly.
He hoped the mini-bar was well stocked, because he was going to need every bottle in the fridge to get through the next few hours.
Merry Christmas, Alec.