Mad About The Man Read Online Free

definite cleft in the center of his square chin. A black tie had been loosened and the top buttons of his shirt undone. Black hair, the same sun-gilded hair that covered strong forearms, showed at his neck.
    Gaby swallowed and passed her tongue over her lips. She noticed his attention go to her mouth… and his chest, his broad chest, with every muscle deline ated beneath the perfectly fitted shirt, expanded with a deep breath.
    She changed her mind. She'd never, ever, felt any thing like this before. Her skin tingled. Somewhere deep inside her belly a burning contraction hit and sent a tense ache into her thighs.
    At the instant when a bolt of warning finally sounded in her numbed brain—he smiled. A marvel ous smile, lazily sexy and feral, that drove dimples into lean cheeks. The vague shadow of a beard dark ened his jaw.
    Gaby walked to the center of the shop.
    The man transferred his hands from his hips to his pockets and approached until he stood only feet from her. There were chips of black in those deep blue eyes, and his lashes were thicker than any man's ought to be.
    He'd stopped smiling.
    "Is there something I can do to help you?" Gaby asked, all too aware of the crack in her husky voice.
    A ghost of a smile showed strong, white teeth. "I'm sure there is."
    Gaby nibbled her bottom lip and swallowed with difficulty. Any suggestiveness she felt in this man had to be imagined … didn't it?
    He looked at her mouth again.
    She wasn't imagining a thing. This was the sexiest man she had ever come within a mile of, and he was standing only grabbing distance away … staring straight at her mouth, her breasts, her hips. He was assessing her all the way to her bare, sandaled feet.
    "Are you lost?" she asked, feeling inane and hot and afraid he'd leave … and equally as nervous that he'd stay.
    "Lost?"
    "Did you need directions?"
    "No."
    A faint scent of warm musk and clean skin almost closed her eyes. "How can I help you?"
    Tipping his head to one side, he studied her all over again, starting at her toes and finishing at her eyes. "I'm not sure anymore. Not as sure as I was when I walked in here."
    His voice was deep and warm, a voice that flowed along a woman's nerves like heated honey with a dis guised bite.
    Gaby breathed in deeply again—and saw his atten tion flicker away from her face.
    He pulled a long, broad hand from his pocket and held it out. Gaby slipped her own graceful fingers into his palm and found herself held as surely as if he'd embraced her.
    "Are you Gaby McGregor?"
    She frowned. "Yes."
    "I thought so. I'm Jacques Ledan."
     

 
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    F ive minutes ago he'd have said he wasn't in the mood. Now he was definitely in the mood and, if he had to guess, he'd say the woman whose hand still rested in his and who showed no sign of wanting it to be anywhere else, was feeling more than a twinge of the same sexual charge that had just hit him.
    "I thought … " Her eyes—green, shimmering eyes flecked with yellow, like those of a sleek cat—slid away toward the window of her shop. The black straw hat that she wore tipped forward over her brow could only be worn by a woman with such dramatic looks. "Two people just left. A Rita Nagel and… I thought that man was Jacques Ledan."
    Jacques shook his head. "Rita's my assistant. The man with her is Bart Stanly. He's working on plan ning and development for my project in Goldstrike."
    The cool hand was quickly withdrawn. "Yes. Your project."
    So, Rita's instincts had probably been right. There was less than enthusiasm here. "I understand Rita mentioned the work I'd like you to consider doing for me."
    Gaby McGregor's full mouth turned down. "She mentioned it." A wonderful, sensual mouth. A mouth that would move so well beneath the lips and tongue of a man who was an expert in such matters.
    Jacques stared into her eyes once more and met pure hostility. Bart was definitely no judge of reac tions. "Overwhelmed," he'd insisted. Gaby Mc Gregor was "bowled over" by