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ISBN Digital: 978-1-5092-1993-3
Page Count: 229
Word Count: 51968
Book Three of the Paige Holiday Series
Temporary job, temporary home...will her hot new guy be temporary, too?
With a bounce to her step, southern-bred Paige Meyers looks like she has it all together. Far from the truth. Her family’s inherited farmstead is a snow-covered shamble and a hoarded mess. Each touch from her man, Michael Lukas, sends her reeling, but he’s only in town on business. She can’t keep track of the growing renovations, her free-spirited aunt or the crazy cat, let alone tight schedules and her own wits. Her funds are shrinking, and the clock is ticking away to the possible end-date on her heart-pounding time with Michael.
Everything collides with weighty decisions made lighter with green drinks and new friends on St. Patrick’s Day. If only her luck will hold.
Like magnets, both felt a pulse-pounding visceral reaction whenever they were close. A look, a touch, a breathy whisper from Paige could send his blood surging. This was no exception; it was far worse.
They flew up the stairs together, Paige tugging him to a side bedroom. They rushed in, and he slammed the door closed, clicking the lock. His breath caught at seeing Paige’s intoxicating longing. He pinned her to the closed bedroom door. His voice came out a ragged growl instead of words, causing her face to beautifully flush.
Finally, he could kiss her in private. He did so with abandon. He held her and kissed her savagely, open mouthed, and so intense he heard a whimper escape from her lips. He pulled back, breathing in a desperate rhythm, looking to her gray-blue eyes for an invitation as he removed his suit jacket and carelessly threw it on the floor without regard to the cost of the expensive material.
Paige did more than invite his lips back with a gentle kiss, she returned it with one of her own ravaging fierce kisses, nails digging into his shirt. He pushed her short blazer off her shoulders. His hands were all over her. Fire flared. His mouth was on her neck, biting at her skin, tasting slightly of the warmth of the baking she’d done.
She moaned in little gasps, swallowing hard. “I…I had no idea showing you another cleaned out room would have this effect.”
He leaned back and looked into her eyes. His small chuckle broke the spell of the urgency of the moment. “Your text. That’s what did it.”
He let her go from the door to glance at the bedroom. It had a twin-sized mattress leaning against a wall and nothing else but an antique mirrored vanity. She picked up the jackets and hung them on the door knob, moving with languid strides toward the deep-set window.
Between dreamy breaths, she pulled off her slacks and said, “The view—”
“Is amazing.” Michael’s shirt and pants were gone in a flash. He drank in the sight of her, partly undressed, not the snowy, tree-filled view through the window. He lifted her onto the recessed window sill and reached to her lower belly as his body opened her legs. The cold of the window was evident when his other hand pressed to the old glass panes to pull her close. His mouth was on hers again, fervor renewed. He drew back from the kiss, tugging at her lower lip.
“Tell me what you wrote, Paige,” he urged in a whisper as he nibbled her earlobe, nuzzling his cheek to her rosy flush. He tugged open the small buttons of her blouse.
“Um…I…I said that I had missed you and that… Oh,” she moaned.
He stopped her moan with an aching needful kiss to her lips again, eating them voraciously.
“Don’t let me interrupt…” He chuckled, his voice low, knowing it was mesmerizing to her. His lips traveled down her neck while he unhooked her bra.
“I…found my hands traveling on my body.” Paige stopped as his warm hands reached under her loosened bra, cupping her firm welcoming breasts. His thumbs brushed her nipples.
He stopped moving and kissing. “What else? Tell me and don’t stop.”
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