More Than a Mistress Read Free Page B

captured hers. “Then I don’t understand.”
    Sara’s pulse jumped. A strong, solid male hand held hers, and the simple act short-circuited her brain. How could she explain that she had a unique ability to ruin good men? His thumb caressed her knuckles, and the gesture seemed more intimate than it should have. Was it the late hour or the man?
    She took a deep breath. “I’m not very good at male-female relationships,” she admitted.
    â€œMaybe you’re just out of practice,” he said, twining their fingers together one by one. His gaze hovered on her mouth, and Sara had the oddest sensation of being thoroughly kissed. She could almost feel his mouth, soft and mobile, on hers. He would slowly slide his tongue past her teeth and explore her vulnerable softness, then tease her into giving him what he wanted. Oh, yes, she’d bet Daniel Pendleton would know how to tease a woman.
    She shook her head at the sudden heat rising in her body. She licked her burning lips and heard his quick intake of breath.
    He squeezed her fingers, a silent reprimand for her involuntarily provocative gesture. His gaze rose to meet hers. “Practice makes perfect, Sara, and I think,” he said in a low, rough voice, looking at her through hooded violet eyes, “you should practice on me.”

Chapter Two
    A flicker of awareness darkened Sara’s eyes, then her eyelashes lowered as if they were a silk curtain. Daniel felt her withdrawal before she moved away.
    She whispered something under her breath. He couldn’t make out the words, but her tone was that of a chiding reminder. Clutching the front of her robe, she shook her head. “It’s so late. I appreciate—” she hesitated, leading him to believe she did not appreciate it “—your checking on me. It was kind of you. I’m getting up early tomorrow morning.” She moved toward the door. “I bet you are too.”
    She put her hand on the doorknob, and Daniel experienced the urge to goad her into dropping the polite shield. She exhibited the dignity of a queen, and her will was far stronger than he’d anticipated.
    He reluctantly admired her at the same time that he was stymied by her.
    Shoving his hand into his pocket in frustration, he felt something sharp jab his finger. He jerked, grimacing. A thorn from that damn rose, he realized belatedly.
    Most of his calculations about Sara had been off tonight. Cranky enough to use Sara’s politeness against her, he walked toward her.
    â€œI guess we’ll have to figure out those dinner arrangements another time,” he said, getting closer and closer, betting the clutching and unclutching of her hand meant that his nearness made her nervous. That was okay. Nervous was better than nothing.
    She opened her mouth to refuse, he was certain, and Daniel covered her hand on the doorknob, stopping her cold.
    Feeling both predatory and frustrated, he smiled. “You’re going to Erin and Garth’s wedding, aren’t you?”
    She hesitated. “Yes.”
    â€œCarly said your car’s been a little temperamental, so I’ll take you.”
    He bent his head toward her and watched another protest die on her lips. “See you next Saturday,” he said, pushing the door open. He took one last glance at her before he left, and what he saw sent his blood pressure into the ozone. Her robe gaped slightly, and underneath that long robe sweet Sara Kingston was wearing the wicked red slip from his dream.
    Â 
    â€œIs Sara off today?” Daniel asked his sister with forced nonchalance.
    Carly shook her head. “No. She’s gone to the post office. She’ll probably be back in a few minutes.” Carly riffled through the papers on the top of her desk, obviously looking for something. “Why do you want to know?”
    Daniel shrugged. “No reason. When I made sure she got home from the party the other night, she seemed a