The Griffin's Mate (Hideaway Cove 1)

“Well.” Harrison drew out the word, his hand lingering at the side of Lainie’s face. “I’m not from around here, after all.”

Lainie sank into his eyes, bewitched by the flickers of green, brown and gold. Like fall, she thought, and I’m falling right in.

She stepped forward and found herself in his arms, cocooned in warmth. Harrison spread his hands out across her back, holding her close, and tipped her head up to meet his lips with her own.

Harrison kissed her, gently at first and then with a controlled passion that told her how much he was still holding back. Lainie’s whole body tingled, from the soles of her feet to her scalp.

She raised her hands, meaning to sweep them up his chest and over his shoulders, but stopped just short of his collarbones. Her finger snagged on the half-undone button, pulling it free.

Lainie let her hand slip down, hooking her finger over the next button. Harrison mumbled something against her lips and she broke the kiss to find him looking down at her, his eyes dark with desire.

His eyes flickered down to his shirt, and back to Lainie’s. “Planning to drag me away?”

“You have to tell me where to drag you, first. Honestly, this tour isn’t very good, is it?”

Harrison slapped his hand to his forehead. “You’re right!” he said, feigning shock. “I guess I’ll have to do the dragging away, huh?”

Lainie burst out laughing, and to her delight, Harrison laughed, too. Her whole body was tingling, her skin sensitized and desperate to be touched. She’d never felt like this with anyone before. Oh, attraction, that was one thing, but she’d never felt so comfortable around someone she’d only just met. So willing to let her attraction blossom into something more.

They were joking together. He’d made her laugh, a lot, when she’d expected to spend the whole trip miserable. This was crazy—but she was actually enjoying herself. A lot.

And she anticipated enjoying herself a lot more in the near future.

Harrison held out his hand to her and—only slightly regretfully—Lainie unhooked her finger from his shirt and took it.

“Shall we?”

Lainie didn’t answer. She just squeezed his hand, unable to wipe the smile off her face, and followed him along the path.

Harrison’s hand was much bigger than he

rs, and callused from his work. As they walked toward his house, their hands were the only parts of them that touched. Lainie’s lips were still burning from the kiss, and electricity seemed to zap from them, to her hand, and back, until she wanted nothing more than to pull Harrison into a quiet corner and drag his mouth to hers again.

No. There was one thing she wanted more. And it wasn’t the sort of thing she wanted to do in the middle of the main road.

They came to a stop outside a two-storied building. A sign hung above the door, but it was too dark for Lainie to read it. By now it was cold enough that she could see her breath.

But, oh, she was so warm inside.

“This is it,” Harrison said. He sounded more nervous than Lainie had expected.

She raised one eyebrow. “This is it? Because I was kind of expecting we’d make our way indoors…”

Nerves apparently defused, Harrison grinned at her as he unlocked the door and held it open. She stepped across the threshold, her pulse quickening.

The first thing she noticed about Harrison’s house was the smell. It wasn’t a bad smell—quite the opposite. Lainie inhaled deeply, trying to place the scent.

Of course—he was a builder, wasn’t he? And this was his workshop. Wood shavings, a hint of old smoke, and the faintest, lingering chemical tang of turpentine and paint. The same smells as any of a dozen worksites she’d been on during her work as a planner. Familiar. Comforting.

And without the inevitable thick mud tracked over every surface, which was her least favorite part of site visits.

“May I take your coat?”

Lainie looked over her shoulder to see Harrison closing the door. She nodded, and a few moments later, his polite gesture somehow found the two of them in each other’s arms, her coat forgotten on the floor.

Lainie let out a soft cry as Harrison wound his fingers through her hair, clutching her to him. Her skin was on fire. The silk of her blouse was so thin she could feel every touch of Harrison’s body through it, but at the same time it was still a frustrating barrier between her skin and his.

She grabbed the bottom of Harrison’s shirt and pulled it up, revealing his flat stomach and hard abs. His hip-bones made a V that disappeared under his belt, inviting further investigation.