'Tis the Season to Be Tempted Read Free

things to end.
    Evie seemed relatively calm until the announcer gave instructions in the event of a water landing and Bob placed the life vest over his head. Her face took on the color of the undead.
    Marge returned with Evie’s refill, and the safety demonstration continued with the two methods for inflating the life vest, including the manual option in case the automatic system didn’t work. Evie muttered something about the inevitability of her equipment failing and tossed back her second drink without pausing to breathe.
    And suddenly, despite himself, Wes felt sorry for the petrified Evie. “There aren’t any oceans between Minneapolis and Boston.”
    “I’m sure there are plenty of lakes,” Evie said, clutching her empty glass as if desperate for a refill.
    Unfortunately, the obliging Marge returned to exchange the empty glass for a full.
    “The odds of a water landing are almost nil,” Wes tried again.
    “Which is just far enough away from zero to make me nervous.” She sent Marge an overly bright smile before downing the entire contents of her glass.
    Wes bit back the groan, sensing the situation slipping further out of control.
    Safety demonstration complete, the flight attendants took their seats, and the plane taxied across the tarmac. A few seconds later and they were hurtling down the runway. The plane lifted off, pulling Wes’s heart and stomach more firmly into his body.
    “You know, I’m an enlightened woman,” Evie said, her tongue sounding thick, her voice radiating sheer terror. But now, her words were slightly slurred.
    Damn .
    “I’m sure you are,” he said with a sigh, gently tightening her seat belt.
    “I change the oil in my car. Well, I did until it died on me. I squish my own spiders—”
    Another stomach-dropping swoop occurred.
    “I’ve always admired women who slay their own bugs,” Wes said, hoping to distract her.
    She turned those heavily lined, heart-melting eyes toward him, her words sloppy. “I even take charge of my sexuality.”
    Wes’s heart shifted to somewhere around the level of his groin. But this time, the adjustment had nothing to do with their rapid ascent and everything to do with the erotic images her words brought to his already primed mind.
    He gripped his armrest, his pulse escalating. “I’m sure you do.” He was proud he managed his best businesslike voice, as if not aroused by her fantasy-inducing words. “You’ve never been the type to take direction,” he said, praying the woman wouldn’t take the current topic any further.
    But apparently her bad luck was catching.
    Her honest yet slightly glassy eyes on him, she said, “And I certainly don’t need a man to have an orgasm.”
    The heated flush in Wes’s body burned higher, and he longed for a cool drink. He’d even partake of the dreaded champagne. Anything to douse the fiery blood now coursing through his veins. She studied him closely, making him shift uncomfortably in his seat, amused. Disturbed. And incredibly turned-on.
    He cleared his throat and aimed for a noncommittal tone. “Good for you.”
    And he wondered how his peaceful, worry-free commute had descended into the flight from hell. Being delegated keeper of the frustratingly tempting Evie Lee, unwillingly reassigned to sit next to the only woman he’d ever considered off-limits. Made worse by a fresh vulnerability that would worry her brother more. But it was a simple three-hour flight.
    He could handle anything for a short three hours. Couldn’t he?
    Maybe he’d get lucky and she’d pass out soon.
    The color on her cheeks had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with being tipsy. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like.”
    “What?”
    “Sleeping with you.”
    Wes froze, his libido pounding out its approval as Evie went on. “Tell me, Harvard Man,” she said. “Do you make love with your dress shirt on?”
    Evie leaned closer, her breast pressed against his arm, short-circuiting his brain