In the Teeth of the Wind Read Online Free Page A

In the Teeth of the Wind
Book: In the Teeth of the Wind Read Online Free
Author: Charlotte Boyett-Compo
Tags: Fiction, Thrillers
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golden brow. "Hello, there."
    "How did you…" He stared at her unable to believe the gorgeous woman from the bar was standing
    on his porch. Just for a moment, he became acutely aware of his nakedness and moved away from the
    glass.
    "You aren't decent," she said, her words a soft accusation. Brazenly, her gaze moved over his face.
    "But then again, I was hoping you wouldn't be."
    The invitation was in her smoky voice. He heard it. He read it in her eyes and recognized it in the way
    she stood there huddled in her expensive sable.
    He found his voice. "You followed me home."
    She smiled. "Yes, I did."
    Although every fiber of his manhood screamed at him to open the door, his instincts warned him
    against it. "Why?"
    She hunched her shoulders beneath the sleek pelts of fur. "I liked the way your body felt against mine
    when we bumped into one another," she answered. "I'd like to feel it again. Without the restriction of
    clothing."
    _You can't get more specific than that, Nolan!_ She was looking at him as though he were the main
    course of her meal. It embarrassed him and made him acutely uncomfortable.
    "Aren't you going to invite me in?" She ran her fingers along the door lintel as if caressing him.
    Bewildered, he shook his head, then smiled to take the sting from his decision. "I'm bushed."
    Felicity Rogers, he remembered her name now, only looked at him with a gaze as hot as the core of a
    smelting pot. "I'm very good at total body massage. I'm told my strokes are very relaxing."
    His shaft leaped at her words, but he resolutely ignored it. "It's been a long day," he confessed. "I was
    just going to bed."
    "Alone?" she whispered, yet he heard it as clearly as though she'd been standing right beside him, her
    lips to his ear.
    The question slithered into his head and coiled there, a suggestion more than an inquiry. It set his blood
    to racing. The tight knot, which had formed in his throat, was slowly choking him. Foreboding clenched
    his stomach.
    "Yeah."
    "You don't have to. I'd be more than willing to keep you warm tonight, Conor."
    He shook his head again. "I'm warm enough already. If anything, I'm too warm, now."
    He saw a flare of irritation in her emerald eyes, a tightening of her mouth, stiffening of her round
    shoulders beneath the sable, but then the luscious red lips eased into a disappointed pout.
    "Can't say I didn't try, can you, Conor Nolan?" She pulled the warmth of the fur closer around her,
    almost as though she were wrapping his arms around her body. "But I warn you, I don't give up easily.
    Some other time, then?"
    All he could do was nod. Blood and juices pulsed through him, sang along his nerve endings, making
    his head pound. His hand trembled as she arched one brow as if to ask: _Are you sure?_ Once more he
    shook his head and she tilted hers in acknowledgment of his decision. Without a backward glance, she
    walked off the porch and into the snowy night.
    "Sweet Merciful Mary," he breathed as he let the sheer fall across the side panel.
    His heart thudded in his chest as though he'd been running the mile flat out. His hands were clammy,
    his mouth dry, and his shaft throbbed to the quick pulse of his heartbeat. Not since he was a randy
    sixteen-year-old had he felt such unbridled passion flow through his body.
    _Not something a worldly-wise thirty-seven-year-old should be feeling_. He moved away from the
    door.
    Conor switched off the living room light and padded to his bedroom.
    "They're out there for the grabbing, Irish," Cortesio had once told him. "Women love to make it with
    cops, you know? It's the danger, man. The danger!"
    Yeah, he thought as he plowed a shaky hand through his hair. There'd been women who'd extended
    open invitations to feel free to use them, but nothing like the soul-searing availability Felicity had issued
    tonight. And none had ever followed him home or, to his knowledge, even driven by to see where he
    lived. He wasn't sure he liked what the Rogers woman had done. He
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