Her calm, dryly amused tone seemed to douse his flash of temper. He stopped pacing, shoved a hand through his tumbled hair and gave her a look that might have held a faint touch of remorse. “I’m a little stressed.”

She supposed it was as close as she was going to get to an apology. “I know. You’ve had a difficult week.”

“It would have been even more difficult if you hadn’t been here to help me with Isabelle.”

And that, she decided, was his way of saying thank-you. She smiled at him. “You’re welcome.”

Stopping beside her chair, he reached down to catch her wrists and pull her to her feet. “There’s something else that has been distracting me from work this week.”

Gripping his forearms to steady herself, she gazed up at him. “I—”

He kissed the words back into her mouth.

He wasn’t holding her tightly, but their bodies were pressed together from chest to knees. She remembered her first impression of him—that he was built like an athlete. Each time she felt him against her that impression was reinforced. He was lean but roped with muscle. All male. And her response was entirely feminine.

He broke off the kiss very slowly, holding her gaze with his as he lifted his head. “I really should stop doing that.”

She was still holding his arms, and she was in no hurry to release him. There was a definite possibility she would melt into a puddle at his feet if she did so. She cleared her throat. “Yes, you really should.”

He kissed her again. And she tightened her fingers around his sleekly muscled arms, because she felt herself slowly beginning to puddle…

“Are you sure you aren’t going to marry Gideon, Adrienne?” Isabelle asked curiously from the kitchen doorway. “Caitlin kisses Nathan all the time, and they got married.”

By the time the child finished speaking, Adrienne and Gideon were several feet apart. Feeling her cheeks flame, Adrienne couldn’t look at Gideon. For those few, reckless moments she had forgotten all about Isabelle and she suspected that Gideon had, too. How could they have been so careless?

“Come on, Isabelle, I’ll tell you another story,” she said hastily, holding out a hand that wasn’t as steady as she would have liked. “How about the story of Little Red Riding Hood? Would you like to hear that one?”

It seemed an appropriate choice for her, as well. She needed to be reminded of the girl who had been distracted from her planned destination by a dangerously intriguing wolf.

Gideon didn’t trust himself to pace the hallway outside Adrienne’s bedroom that night. This time he left the house altogether, moving outside to the lawn swing.

It wasn’t exactly quiet out; frogs and other night creatures were in full voice this evening. It was a bit chilly. The slightly damp night air leached through his long-sleeved T-shirt, and his breath hung in ghostly puffs in front of him. Better than a cold shower, he decided, looking ruefully toward the darkened window of his bedroom, where Adrienne slept.

He had been particularly antsy that evening, ever since Isabelle had caught him kissing Adrienne in the kitchen. He could still hear her innocent voice saying the m word. He’d been as shocked as if she had uttered an expletive.

Couldn’t a guy kiss an attractive woman around here without someone mentioning marriage? And kissing wasn’t all he wanted to do with Adrienne Corley—not by a long shot. But whatever happened between them before she headed back to New York, he had no intention of letting it turn into anything more than a pleasant interlude between two unattached adults who happened to be attracted to each other.

He was sure he and Adrienne could explore that attraction for a few days without taking it too seriously. And after she returned to New York, they could return easily enough to the comfortably professional relationship they had shared before, maybe even consider themselves friends as well as business associates. He had remained on reasonably friendly terms with one or two ex-lovers. Though he had to admit with a wince that most had left never wanting to see him again.

Adrienne was different from the women he had known before. Smart, sophisticated, competent, independent. She wouldn’t expect more than he could give her—hell, she probably wouldn’t want any more. Why should she? She didn’t need any man, especially a grouchy, self-centered loner like him.

He still regretted the way he had snarled at her after dinner, simply because she had asked about his work. Not that she had seemed particularly offended. Probably because she didn’t care enough about him to let him hurt her feelings.

Scowling, he gave the ground a vicious kick to set the swing in motion. The resulting creak of chains startled the night creatures into silence, so that his thoughts seemed unusually loud in his head.

When could he kiss Adrienne again? Would there be any opportunity for more than kisses before she left?

And would it really be as easy to say goodbye as he’d been reassuring himself it would be?

Adrienne half expected Gideon to change his mind about attending the St. Patrick’s Day festival on Saturday. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d stayed in his office all day without coming out or even mentioning the festival again, leaving her and Isabelle to entertain themselves. Yet she wore her thin emerald sweater with her black slacks—just in case green was the color of the day.

She was rather relieved when he appeared at breakfast, dressed in a white button-up shirt and jeans, his neatly-combed-for-a-change hair still damp from the shower. “So are we going to that festival downtown?” he asked gruffly.

Still in her pajamas, Isabelle looked intrigued. “What festival thing?”

“The St. Patrick’s Day Festival Officer Smith told us about,” Adrienne reminded her. “Everyone wears green and pretends to be Irish.”

“Miss Montgomery decorated our classroom with leprechauns and shamrocks for St. Patrick’s Day,” Isabelle said. “But it’s not today, is it? Miss Montgomery said it’s Monday and we can wear green to school if we want to.”

Tags: Gina Wilkins The McClouds of Mississippi Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net