Second-Chance Seduction

Services, indeed!

At that, her stomach nerves began to twitch and buzz with excitement. Services!

Oh, this wasn’t good.

“Maggie?”

“Yes, damn it. Yes, I’ll do it,” she said, waving her hands in submission.

He hesitated, then took what looked like a fortifying breath. “Good.”

“But I won’t sleep with you.” She pointed her finger at him for emphasis.

He tilted his head to study her. “I told you I don’t expect you to.”

“But...the hotel suite.” She let go of the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “Okay. But...never mind. Good. Fine. That’s fine.” She stopped talking as she felt heat rise up her neck and spread to her cheeks. She tended to turn bright pink when she was embarrassed, so Connor probably noticed it, too. Even though he’d made it clear he didn’t want to sleep with her, she’d assumed...well. That’s what she got for assuming anything. Apparently he just wanted to keep tabs on her.

If she’d thought about it for a second or two, she would’ve realized that he could have any woman he wanted. They probably waited in line outside his door and threw themselves at him wherever he went. Why would he want to sleep with Maggie, especially after he’d spent all these years thinking she had betrayed him? All he wanted was a date, someone who knew something about the brewery business. And that description fit her perfectly.

“I misunderstood,” she admitted.

“Yeah, you did,” he said, his tone lowering seductively as he approached her. “Because if you and I were to do what your mind is imagining, Maggie, there wouldn’t be much sleeping going on.”

Staggered, Maggie felt her mouth drop open. “Oh.”

“So it’s settled,” he said, breezily changing tempo again as he tugged her arm through his and walked her to the door. “I’ll pick you up Sunday morning and we’ll drive together. Be sure to pack something special for the gala and a few cocktail dresses. We’ll be dining with a number of important business associates, and I want them to walk away impressed.”

She refused to mention that she only owned two simple cocktail dresses and nothing formal, having given away most of her extensive wardrobe to the local consignment shop three years ago. Instead she turned and jabbed her finger in his chest for emphasis. “Just so we’re clear, Connor. I’m not going to have sex with you.”

He looked down at her finger, then up to meet her gaze. “Still negotiating, huh?”

She whipped her hand away and immediately missed the sizzle of heat she’d gotten from touching his chest. She told herself it meant nothing. It had just been a while since she’d touched a man. Like, years. No wonder she was getting a contact high.

“I’m serious, Connor,” she said, hating that her voice sounded so breathless. “I’ll share your room with you, but that’s it.”

“It’s a suite,” he corrected, and slowly leaned over and kissed her neck.

Dear Lord, what was he doing? She knew she should slap him, push him away, but instead she shivered at the exquisite feel of his lips on her skin.

“Say it with me,” he murmured. “Suite.”

“Suite,” she murmured, arching into him when he gently nipped her earlobe. This had to stop. Any minute now.

“Sweet,” he whispered, then pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

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