Saints and Sinners Read Free

them and the baggy black stockings.
    Deftly, he rolled up the left glove and placed each opening over her fingertips. The soft silk caressed each finger as he eased the sections downward toward her palm. Wrinkles remained and she attempted to smooth them.
    He stilled her shaking hand. “I’ll take care of that.”
    With the patience of a saint, but the touch of a sinner, he pinched each of her fingers in turn between his thumb and forefinger and milked them in the most delicious manner.
    When finished, he slipped his thumbs underneath the cuffs and caressed her palms. “Perfect. Never have I seen something fit so well. I’ll take them.”
    Moira removed the tape measure from around her neck. “Let me measure my hand to make sure it’s the size you really want.”
    Reilly teased the tape from her hands and whipped it around her upper body. Her nose bumped against his in the process. “Do you really know what I want?”
    The wool fabric of his suit chafed her palms as she gripped his shoulders. His breath fanned against her face. Their lips were less than an inch apart. “Yes. The gloves. Wrapped up with a bright red bow on the top.”
    His lips brushed lightly against hers. Soft as a butterfly’s wings. “You’re right about the red, Clara Bow. Red to match that kisser of yours. Red like my heart.”
    Say something or he’ll think you’re a total innocent. “I’ll take care of wrapping them.” With his assistance, Moira clambered from her fitting post. “Is there anything else you’d like?” Today, Satan spurred her on in the wickedest way.
    Once spoken, her words couldn’t be retracted. Who cared? It’s my turn to catch him off guard.
    Reilly pursued, hot on her heels. “What I like can’t be bought at Bainbridge’s,” he said. “It’s far too precious for this place. There is something you can help me with.”
    “What’s that?”
    “Come back here for a minute and find out.”
    What was he up to? She closed the gap between them and heard the rasp of his breathing. As he flapped one side of his coat jacket open, she swallowed hard.
    “Here.” He removed and held up a safety pin. “You can use this to mend the garter later unless...”
    She accepted the pin. “Unless what? I can fix it by myself.”
    A devilish grin inched across his lips. “Of course. What I meant was I’d wait out there until you mended it. Always have one of those with me. Guess that goes with being a clothier.”
    His hands molded against her hips, and her attempts to escape this erotic encounter made him even more determined to hold her hostage. A willing one. His nose skimmed her cheek, and their lips touched again, even more wonderful this time. Reilly pulled away just as she was getting used to the notion.
    “I’ll...I have to get back out there.” Moira shot past him.
    At the counter, she sucked in several deep breaths. From underneath, she secured some ribbon and cut it to size. Thankful that Reilly waited several minutes before emerging from behind the curtain, Moira monitored Kate’s whereabouts all the while. One last twist secured the final loop of the red bow. She admired her handiwork. Moira licked her lips, amazed at how they still tingled from the brief tango with Reilly’s.
    Cunning as a cat, he slipped from the storeroom and approached her. “Thanks, again, Irish Rose. I got what I came for.” He winked and walked away, tapping the package and whistling The Sheik of Araby .
    She pressed her legs together and shivered at the wetness developing in her most secret spot. How did he know my name before I told him? Oh, to have my heart and love belong to him. Now that would be an adventure. One I’d love to take and not care about getting lost.
    * * * *
    Tea sloshed over the edge of Helen Flynn’s cup. Moira shuddered. The brew dripping into the chipped saucer was nearly as scalding as her best friend’s sentiment. She longed to shut out the litany, but it was impolite not to listen.
    Moira balled her