Passion Play

Donovan gave her a shrewd look. “Like your sister Lily? She’s beautiful. But I don’t have a type.”

Of course not. He was an equal-opportunity player. “Then what’s your turn-on?”

Donovan was silent for a moment. “Do you have a library card?”

“Of course.” She was offended that he would even ask. “Do you?”

He nodded. “That’s my turn-on.”

“Library cards?” He had just taken kinky to a whole other level.

“Women who love to read.”

“That’s really bizarre.” And incredibly interesting. “Why?”

“Women who can lose themselves in a book don’t need me to entertain them.” Donovan shrugged a shoulder. The sensation had Rose biting back a moan. “They can entertain themselves for hours. So when they choose to spend time with me, it’s not because they’re bored. I know it’s because they really want to be with me.”

Was he kidding? Who wouldn’t want to spend time with Donovan Carroll? He was handsome, intelligent and infinitely intriguing. “We can’t keep our noses buried in a book all the time.”

“There’s something very sexy about a woman when she’s carried away in a book.” His voice was soft and low, hypnotic. “Her love of reading shows she has a creative mind. She always has something to talk about.”

His words seduced her. They brought to mind lazy, rainy afternoons, curled up on her love seat with a good book. Mysteries, fantasies, romance.

Her body relaxed. “What do you like to read?”

“I like variety. Fiction and nonfiction, mysteries, science fiction, adventure. I’ve even read romance. My only requirement is that the author be a good storyteller. What about you?”

He sounded too good to be true. “The same. I’m not particular. Just give me a good story.”

“So we finally have something in common.” He leaned his head back against her sofa and closed his eyes. “What a relief.”

Rose chuckled. “Give it a rest, Van.”

She sat up. Her eyes traced the clean line of his profile to the long, strong column of his throat. He really was a very handsome man.

Donovan’s eyes flew open, startling Rose. She stared into their depths. They were a bright golden brown, surrounded by a rim of forest green. For a moment, she forgot she was curled up on his lap, talking about books.

“Your turn.” His voice was low, husky, as though he didn’t want anyone to overhear them.

“What?” she whispered back.

“What’s your turn-on?”

Men who are turned on when they see a woman reading. She shied away from offering that answer, though. Maybe another time. “A sense of humor.”

“Knock, knock.” His eyes glowed brighter.

Donovan’s fingers tunneled into her hair. He lifted his head as he brought her closer for his kiss. His lips touched hers and she forgot...everything. Her eyes fluttered closed. For the first time in a long time, Rose gave in to sensation. Donovan’s lips were hot and firm, moving on hers. He took his time, tracing the shape of her mouth with his. The top. The bottom. Each corner. Over and over again.

Her body grew warm and restless. Soft and pliant. She melted against him. Donovan’s arms wrapped around her, drawing her even closer. His body’s heat radiated into hers, spreading from her abdomen out to her limbs. Her breasts. Desire was building. She hadn’t felt this way in so long, if ever. She moved her hands, sliding them up and over his arms, feeling the strength in his biceps and shoulders. Delicious.

Donovan opened his mouth, and she let him in. His tongue stroked hers in a long caress. He tasted so warm and so good. Rose held him closer. Tighter. Donovan shifted and she ended up beneath him on the love seat. His weight pressed deliciously against her. The cushions gave way beneath. His hand slid up her side to close over her breast. Rose shivered. A pulse beat between her legs. Donovan molded her, stroked her. Rose shifted restlessly against him. He deepened their kiss, his urgency growing. Donovan lowered his head and moved his mouth over her cheek to her neck. His hips moved against hers. Rose’s body flooded with heat and dangerous desire. Her body wanted what he offered her, but her mind was cautious. They weren’t in a relationship. This wasn’t about happily-ever-after. This was a verbal agreement with a start date and an end date. What would happen to them when this was over?

Rose’s palms were gentle but firm against his chest. “Van. Stop.”

His torso shook, then stilled above her. His body’s heat wrapped her like a blanket. Donovan straightened, sitting up and away from her.

Rose swung her legs from his lap, then pressed against the opposite end of the love seat. “I’m sorry.”