Something More Read Free

thanked the blessed saints for the good sense to purchase a house and not a high-rise apartment in New York City. Hopefully she would arrive home in a reasonable amount of time without sitting in traffic on a congested freeway. Ginger had chosen the Newark Airport because it was further from the city than LaGuardia and JFK, and generally less crowded. Today, the place resembled a madhouse. Carrie had trudged through an obstacle course just to retrieve her luggage. People scurried in every direction. Lifting her bag, she headed for the exit doors.
    Great. Now, it’s raining buckets.
    Damn, that guy just elbowed her, the jerk. All the taxies seemed to be taken. Except one. Carrie took off running. Just as she reached the cab, another hand—a masculine hand—covered hers.
    A deep voice surged over her shoulder. “Excuse me.”
    The man jerked open the door, pushed her inside and jumped in behind her.
    Of all the . . .
    “Sorry. But we could have drowned while I played the gentleman.”

Chapter 3
    Carrie seethed with anger. The unmitigated gall of the arrogant brute. How dare he shove her and steal her cab? What kind of man pushed a woman into a taxi uncaring it was hers to begin with? She gritted her teeth and wished him to Hades . No one pushed her around and certainly no man—which he was about to find out. Struggling to sit up with some decorum, she straightened her clothes, drew in a deep breath, and gave him a glare meant to unman him.
    Her breath caught in her throat as his hand smoothed the dripping wet locks from his brow, revealing a pair of piercing eyes. Sparkling blue like the deepest waters surrounding the islands she’d just left. His soft, apologetic expression could not hide the hint of mischief in their—oh so gorgeous—dark hue. An amused gleam sent a rush of emotion shooting through her. Her heart increased its tempo as his gaze poured over her with painstaking thoroughness.
    A niggling sensation in her brain warned her—reminded her—she should be angry with him.
    Boldly, her stare wandered down to a nose that curved a bit making his handsome features less perfect. Assertively, she stared at the slight curving of his mouth. Sensuous lips formed a fictitious pout and bowed in provocation. Luring her—beckoning—inviting a lover’s heated kiss. Carrie shook off the urge to do just that. When a droplet of water appeared at the corner of his mouth, she had the sensation of swaying forward.
    What in heaven’s name had come over her?
    Coal black hair lay plastered against his head with springing curls that refused to be conquered by the pouring rain. Beads of water on the edge of dark lashes glimmered, enhancing his features. Clothes clung to him like a second skin, showing the width of his broad shoulders. Bulging biceps creating the impulse to touch . . .
    A slight sigh escaped her lungs as she became aware of the alarming effect he had on her senses. She could barely think as she sat there under his scrutiny. Her lids narrowed, noting the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and she realized he was holding back his amusement.
    “Will you forgive me? Had I waited, someone else may have taken our ride.”
    His deep rumbling voice sent tingles straight to the heated center of her being. Instincts that were normally on alert deserted her body. She’d already been intrigued by his dark features, midnight hair and sinful blue eyes. Add a voice that came straight from the bedroom, and the challenge that flashed in his eyes . . . her competitive hormones sparked.
    “May I . . .? He produced a handkerchief and held it out to her. “At least it’s dry.”
    If not for the notable expression that mocked repentance, she could almost accept his sincerity. When she didn’t take it immediately, he dabbed at the water on her nose.
    The contact allowed her to gather what wits she had foolishly lost. She straightened. He had some nerve. Though he did look ridiculous with his bogus regretful expression. And her