then he caught a glimpse of a shapely, tanned ankle followed by a toned calf. He smiled—she’d always had good legs. ‘Yep, it’s me.’
The clack of her sandals against the stairs sped up and a moment later there she was with her arms wide open and a matching smile. ‘Welcome home.’
The bag he’d anchored on his shoulder with his hand slipped past suddenly numb fingers, falling with a dull thud onto the floorboards as shock sucked the breath from his lungs. He instinctively shook his head as if the action would force his retinas to change the image. This couldn’t be Georgie.
Apart from her voice, nothing about her was remotely familiar and he barely recognised her. Gone was her short-cropped hair and in its place a long, glossy, caramel-brown ponytail swept across her shoulders in a caress of curls. Her face, which had always seemed slightly too long for her, was now round and full. In fact, all of her was round and full. A white sundress fell from decorative shoulder straps, flowing across voluptuous breasts before cascading over a high and round belly and swirling against the enticing tilt of her hips, a curvaceous behind and firm thighs. She seemed taller, more sure of herself, and a secret smile played about her lips as if she knew things that others could never understand. She was a Botticelli woman—lush, fertile and glowing.
A thundering wave of pure sexual energy rode off her, spinning him into its orbit and rolling him inside its core. His groin tightened as a wondrous hot bolt of anticipation and excitement pounded through him—the same one he experienced whenever he saw a hot woman that he wanted. A familiar craving followed. A craving he greeted like an old but absent friend because for months it had rarely stirred, giving him an unfamiliar dry spell.
A second later his brain caught up with his body, its reaction horrified and stunned.
This is Georgie. Georgie. We ‘re platonic. We made that decision years ago.
His body gave him the finger. It didn’t care who she was, only that she was all woman and it wanted some of it. ‘You …’ His voice cracked over the husky word and he cleared his throat. ‘You look good.’
‘Thanks. I feel great and it was a good excuse for me to get a whole new wardrobe.’ Her velvet-brown eyes sparkled and her hand lightly caressed her belly, her palm cupping its rolling shape.
His gaze followed her movement and again his blood quickened, surging as another wave of need pulsed through him, numbing his brain. He couldn’t construct a thought. Hell, he could barely see. He bit the inside of his cheek, needing the physical pain to short-circuit his arousal and get himself under control. His feet felt like lead weights glued to the floor and it was Georgie who leaned in, giving him a friendly kiss on the cheek and a quick hug. Her belly brushed gently against his stomach, the touch like an electric shock, jolting him out of the fog that had overtaken him.
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