Hot Buttered Rum: Standalone Romance (Silk Stocking Inn Book 4) Read Online Free Page B

who looked as if he was more than curious about what I was hiding under the plush robe, made me feel just a little naughty. And, sadly, I couldn’t remember the last time a man had made that hot curl of steam swirl through my body. This man definitely had.
    I couldn’t stop myself.
    I lowered my shoulders a smidgen. As planned, it resulted in the robe parting just enough to give him a much better view. His hot blue gaze went straight to my cleavage. I hoped my movements had been too slight for him to think I’d done it intentionally, but when his mouth kicked up in a cocky grin, I realized he’d seen right through my motive.
    The heated flush that had swept over my body rushed down to concentrate almost solely between my legs. My pussy tingled as if subtly trying to remind me that it was down there and in bad need of some personal attention.
    As if Turner could read my thoughts, he moved closer, shrinking the gap between us. He was close enough that I could feel the cold rainwater evaporating off his clothes, skin and hair. I inadvertently licked my lip, and I could taste the ocean salt floating in the heated air between us.
    “How was the bubble bath?”
    His question surprised me. “How did you know I’d taken a bath?”
    Without the slightest hesitation, he leaned his face close to my neck and inhaled deeply. He hadn’t touched me with more than a tendril of his warm breath, but my body reacted as if he’d smoothed his, no doubt, callused hands over my skin.
    He straightened and the blue in his eyes had darkened. “Hair tied up in a loose bun, fragrant soap on the skin and the fizzling sound of dying bubbles coming from the next room.”
    I smiled. “Ah, that’s how.” I inclined my head in the direction of the parrot who was busy pacing the chair and staring at my plate of food. “I thought maybe you two were working as a team or something since Dexter just happened to land on the window overlooking the bathtub.”
    “Did he?” He cast a proud glance in the direction of his pet. “He does have an amazing sense of direction.”
    “I’ll take him back to the boat before he loses the tiny bit of self-control he’s holding onto and jumps on your plate.” Turner stepped back, and I worked hard not to show my disappointment. I wasn’t completely sure where I thought this unexpected visit was going, but, apparently, my lascivious subconscious had been waiting for something more than him breathing in the scent of my skin.
    Turner walked over to pick up his bird. His wet shirt clung tightly to his skin and I couldn’t stop from gawking at the width of his shoulders. The warmth surged through me again. All these years I’d been writing romances, and here I was, standing in the same room with one of my fictional heroes. Only this one was real, dark long hair, magnetic gaze, blazing smile and all, and he was about to walk out of my room.
    I decided to blame it all on the hot bath and the surprising turn my weekend had taken as I reached down and loosened the belt on my robe just enough to show my naked skin all the way down to my belly button. The sides of the robe parted and stopped just before exposing my nipples.
    I drew in a long, deep breath and waited as Turner coaxed the bird away from the chair and onto his shoulder. He turned around. Under the glow of the room lights with the backdrop of the storm outside, he looked every bit the pirate.
    His smooth dark brow rose slightly as he gazed appreciatively at the newly exposed skin. I bit my lip and silently wondered if I had completely lost my mind as he walked toward me. I should have pulled shut the robe. I should have backed up and shown him that this wasn’t me, that the wanton, wild woman standing in front of him was just an imaginary character from one of my stories.
    But my feet didn’t move, and my hands didn’t pull shut the robe. The whole weekend seemed like a fantasy, the inn, the hostess and the man standing just inches from me. That made it