Meddling with a Millionaire (Case Brothers 1)

He’d win. He knew it. Worse, he knew she knew it. Hell, she was ready to scream his name right here and now just to make the building pressure go away.

“Nathan, I’m not going to sleep with you again.”

“Again? You didn’t stick around long enough to sleep with me the last time. I’m looking forward to waking up with you in my arms.”

His hand was warm and compelling against the small of her back. She lifted her chin while he nuzzled her temple. When his lips brushed the corner of hers, soft as a butterfly’s wing, golden light spilled into her veins. If he had any idea how much she’d wanted to end up like this tonight, alone with him and poised to surrender, she would be doomed.

Don’t do this. A rational voice shrilled in her mind while her bones melted, and her skin flushed. You’ll never get a chance to marry for love if you let him seduce you again.

“You’re afraid to give into this thing between us,” he murmured. “Don’t be.”

“I’m not.”

Letting go had been fun. She’d fantasized about him for years. But not one sizzling daydream had prepared her for the thrilling hard press of his muscles or the urgency of his kisses. He’d cajoled and demanded and she’d happily surrendered.

It was the aftermath that had terrified her. The treacherous longing to surrender control and let him dictate where the relationship went and how long it lasted. Discovering how fast she became putty in his hands had made it easy to avoid his phone calls.

His lips trailed wildfire kisses down her throat to the hollow where her pulse fluttered madly. “I promise to take it slow.”

“How thoughtful of you,” she said, injecting irony into her tone. He couldn’t find out how much she wanted to give in. “But I think you’re getting the wrong idea.”

“The wrong idea about what?”

“About what I want.”

“And what is that?”

A man who would love her forever.

“Three, two, one…” voices shouted in enthusiastic unison. Noisemakers and horns generated a cacophony, almost drowning out cries of “Happy New Year!”

Listening to the party on the other side of the door, Emma wondered what the coming year would offer.

“Happy New Year,?

?? she whispered.

This was his cue to kiss her, but he didn’t. He had such sexy lips, well-shaped with a fullness that teased and a wicked quirk that enticed. Anticipation lashed at her. She couldn’t stop trembling.

“Happy New Year,” he echoed, a smile in his voice. “Have you made any New Year’s resolutions?”

“Just one.”

“And that would be?”

She shook her head to clear the sensual net he wove around her with so little effort. “I’m resolved to be less spontaneous.”

He chuckled. “And how is that working for you so far?”

“Not very well.” She kept her tone dry, determined to master her nerves. “How about you? Have you made any resolutions for the New Year?”

“Just one,” he said.

She lifted her hands to his face, sliding her fingers over his bold, masculine bone structure and sharp, well-defined jawline. Even in the darkened room he had an arresting face.

He tugged his bow tie loose and left it dangling, drawing her attention to his impressive chest. Heat poured off his long torso, seeping into her skin and setting fire to her better judgment. Her fingers tingled as she traced the muscles beneath his white shirt. He radiated power and vitality. The sensation of all that caged energy weakened her knees.

“What is it?”