“It’s a long story.” Without pausing in her task, she turned to look at him and caught her breath, lost by his maleness. She hadn’t realized he was so tall, so incredibly broad shouldered and the tilt of his trousers was overt, so as to be a distraction. She caught herself rushing toward that naughty girl place and stopped but only for a brief respite. His eyes, dear Donna-Double-D-cup, those eyes were like magnets, dragging her away from common sense and reality. She felt she had slipped right into that naughty place. She used a private-under-the-breath shame-shame to retreat.
“Tell me what to do, Kit. Since I’m hanging around anyway, I can help.”
“Don’t mind at all.”
“That’s not necessary. I can...” She broke off as a burning pain severed her words. Somehow the knife had slipped and sliced the length of her left palm. She immediately grabbed a towel, wrapped her hand and tossed the knife into soapy water. “I hate to be rude, but as you can see, I’m treading watercress sandwiches. Busy.”
“You can’t work like that.”
“I don’t have a choice.”
“Let me see it.” He motioned for her hand.
“You might need stitches.”
“If I do, I’ll get them later.”
“Do you charge extra for the blood sauce on the arugula?”
“Cute!” she managed with a smug stare.
With just a few steps, he was at her side. Before she could protest, he grabbed her hand, discarded the towel and examined the wound. “It doesn’t look too deep, let me wash it and bandage it properly.”
His touch triggered instantaneous heat, it radiated from one deep-seated crave to the next. That yearn flowed through her body like liquid fire and for an instant, she couldn’t breathe, did not wish to, wanting only to linger completely awash in that precocious delicious desire.
Caleb felt a similar rush of heat, hidden beneath a stoic manliness. It centered somewhere in his chest, then swiftly traveled downward, morphing his anatomy. Being a healthy male, he was accustomed to strong response but this reaction bore a stark difference in that he had never experienced anything this intense and potentially embarrassing. What was it about her that got to him? He couldn’t even see the color of her eyes. Yet he found himself wanting to drown in them as well as the emotions she evoked so easily. Not the best sensation considering the reason he was here, it the schoolmarm-voice telling him to stop.
EXCERPT FROM THE GARROTE FACTOR: NAKED TWISTER
Angelica Hart and Zi
BUY paperback here
A NEW ROMANTIC PARANORMAL SUSPENSE