very own angel.
SOME WOMEN ATE when they were stressed, and why not? Who didn’t love the comfort of chocolate?
Others managed their stress by shopping. Because, well, one could never have too many pairs of shoes.
She’d used both tactics from time to time with varying degrees of success. But Tessa often said her favorite go-to guaranteed stress reliever was sex. It loosened the body, eased tension and, if done right—and she tended to do it right—emptied the mind of pesky thoughts and troublesome worries.
But despite her reputation as a man-eater, it’d been a while since she’d had sex, stress relieving or otherwise.
Besides, all things considered—all things being that sex itself was integral to the stress dancing through her system—she’d hit her second-favorite release reliever.
The pool table.
Tessa leaned forward, angling from the waist as she peered down the pool cue and lined up her shot. She wasn’t concerned with the minuscule length of her dress. Hey, she could feel the silky fabric against the back of her upper thighs. She knew she wasn’t sharing anything she didn’t want to. She never did.
Besides, the party was still confined to the main rooms of the manor. Guests likely wouldn’t break away into small pockets until after dinner. She’d have regained her usual poise and control long before then.
“Two ball in the corner pocket,” she murmured.
She had overreacted. A silly thing to do, and she was sure it was because she was worried about Livi. Maybe she was a little stressed because things were so crazy at the magazine right now, too. After a year of running around the country with Livi to promote one workout video after another, it was just weird to be home for so long actually working out of the Flirtatious offices instead of emailing her articles in.
She was just having a little trouble readjusting, getting back into the groove of her life.
That was why work was stressing her out.
Why she was getting all wiggy over seeing Thorne again.
That was all it was. Stress causing a little overreaction.
Because Tessa Monroe never, ever worried about a man.
A man. Tessa hissed between her teeth at the idea of a mere man shaking her confidence. It’d been months since she’d seen the guy. They’d only met the one time last Halloween and she’d taken an instant dislike. Not to the man himself, but to the power he seemed to have over her.
All he’d done was introduce himself and shake her hand on Halloween. His touch had sent a zing of desire through her, more potent than anything she’d ever felt in her life. With just that touch, she’d known he could take over her world. That he could bring her the most incredible pleasure, the wildest joy. And the deepest pain.
Something she refused to allow any man.
Yet here she was, hiding from him.
And all he’d done was flash his smile her way.
Ridiculous, she reminded herself as she watched the pretty white cue ball spin across the green felt. It smacked the blue ball with a loud crack, sending it in a fast diagonal slide into the corner pocket.
She’d overreacted earlier, like she had on Halloween. Just because Gabriel Thorne looked as if he could see all the way into her soul and knew her every secret wish and dream didn’t mean he really could. He might think she was going to fall at his feet simply by virtue of his gorgeous face and sexy body, but he was wrong. Tessa Monroe didn’t fall for any man. Especially not one so used to stepping over the bodies of his groupies to welcome the next conquest.
Who cared if he was the sexiest man she’d ever met in her entire life? The promise of incredible sex would never be incentive enough to give any man the kind of power Gabriel demanded with a single look.
“Three in the side,” she muttered through clenched teeth.
Hell, she made her living understanding the influence of sex appeal. The lure of engaging the opposite sex. The delight of flirtatious interplay. She was an expert. Well, sort of an expert.
At least expert enough to know that this...
She took a deep breath, trying to shake off the needy feelings clutched low in her belly as she attempted to put a name on whatever it was she felt.
This thing she was feeling for Thorne was just a chemical reaction. Not a big deal. After all, sexual sparks were as easy to come by as a good Wi-Fi connection. All it took was tapping in to the right signal, a password or a clever hack and voilà. A world of possibilities, right there at a girl’s fingertips.
Tessa straightened, leaning on the pool cue as she inspected the table. The sound of laughter and chatter filtered through her focus, reminding her that the cocktail party was heating up in the rooms beyond. Figuring she had another three, maybe five minutes max before she’d be missed, Tessa bent low again, planted her feet in their five-inch heels and arched the small of her back in order to see the shot she wanted.
“Seven, side.” The words were barely a breath of air as she took aim. As the ball spun toward its target she felt a little more of her tension ease and control reclaim its place in her body.
She’d simply forgotten his appeal over the past five months. Out of sight and all that. Which was proof enough that she had nothing to worry about. If she could so easily dismiss a man’s sex appeal—and, oh, baby, did he ooze sex appeal—then he clearly wasn’t a threat to her peace of mind.
By the time she’d lined up the ten ball, Tessa’s nerves were as rock solid as her aim and her mind calm.
All she had to do was remember that she was in control. She didn’t have to make changes at the magazine if she didn’t want to. And as for Gabriel? Well, there wasn’t a man alive who’d gotten the best of her. So why should this one be any different? Before her mind could begin a litany of warnings of why he was already different, she took aim and sent the cue ball sailing.
Just because he oozed the kind of charm that promised to leave her grateful when he broke her heart didn’t mean she was going to let him. Silly man; he had no idea who he was dealing with. If he did, he’d know what every man had ever said about her since she’d turned fifteen was true—that Tessa Monroe’s body might be hot as hell, but her heart was as cold as ice.
Ice, baby, she reminded herself with a chilly smile.
By the thirteen ball, she was comfortably confident again. Damned if she wouldn’t enjoy putting Gabriel Thorne back in his place, she decided. She knew plenty of women who’d want a man like that at their feet, who’d want to make him into a pet just to prove they could. Not Tessa. If she wanted something slobbering on her feet, she’d get a bulldog. Nope, the only place for a man like that was away from her. Far away.
Back in control, enjoying the inner peace that came with it, Tessa added a little hip wiggle to her next shot, letting her body zing with the delight as the balls cracked together.
“There’s nothing prettier than a woman who’s mastered the art of body English.”
Damn it all to hell.
Tessa’s heart jumped. She couldn’t stop its silly reaction, but she made sure it didn’t show. She didn’t straighten. She didn’t let her expression change. She simply lifted her gaze from the soothing expanse of green felt to the disturbing view on the other side of the pool table.
Dear lord, Gabriel Thorne took tall, dark and handsome to unbelievable lengths. From the broad expanse of well-muscled shoulders to the tips of his size-fourteen boots polished to a high gloss, he exuded strength. The sharp angles of his face, with its knife-edged cheekbones and golden skin, contrasted against hair so black it gleamed blue, and his eyes were just as dark.
Why