Anne Marie Winston

Ready for Marriage?


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not running far behind today. Just give him a few minutes.’’ She grinned at Kristin, then silently lifted her right hand in a fist with the thumb extended upward.

      Kristin smiled in return, hoping the rest of the staff hadn’t interpreted Faye’s meaning, then walked back along the hallway to the door of Derek’s office.

      The bags of Chinese food were parked on the edge of his desk, so she opened them and began taking the lids off things, tearing open the bags of plastic utensils and laying out the containers of different items.

      When the door opened, she spun around. Her heart leaped into her throat and hung there, pounding, while Derek closed the door with a quiet click. ‘‘Hi.’’

      ‘‘H-hi.’’ She had to clear her throat. ‘‘I, ah, I brought several résumés along. The board hasn’t advertised the position yet but some of them have invited people they thought might be qualified for the executive director’s position to apply. Anyway, they wanted your opinion.’’

      He hung his lab coat on a hook and started across the room. There was a warm, intent expression in his eyes that scattered her thoughts and she felt her pulse began to increase its rhythm.

      ‘‘My opinion?’’ As he reached her, he slid his arms around her waist and drew her to him, lowering his head. ‘‘My opinion is that if I don’t kiss you again soon I’m going to go crazy.’’

      She wasn’t ready! Automatically she lifted her arms, palms out in a futile and halfhearted attempt to stop him. It seemed silly, given the way she’d pined for him for so long. But she felt self-conscious and uncomfortable in his arms. They were right here in his office. Anyone could walk in.

      Then his lips touched hers and she knew that self-conscious or not, she wasn’t going to be able to control her response to him, wasn’t going to be able to moderate the need that welled up from deep inside her. Rather than holding him stiffly at arm’s length, her hands smoothed up over his shoulders to clasp the back of his neck and slide deep into his hair. She pressed her body urgently against his, shuddering at the feel of his hard, steely frame imprinting itself on her softer one.

      His lips were urgent, persuasive, and she opened her mouth helplessly, letting him deepen the kiss in an erotic harbinger of lovemaking. It felt, somehow, as if she’d never really lived before these past few days in his arms. As if she’d been asleep in a walled tower like a fairy-tale princess, waiting for the right kiss to bring her to life.

      She was alive now. Oh, she certainly was! Immersed in the wonderful sensation of being touched by the one man in the world who could make her feel so complete, she didn’t protest when his fingers slipped beneath the edge of her short blouse. His hand was warm and sure as he traced small circular patterns on her sensitive flesh, his fingers trailing breath-stealing streaks of pleasure wherever they lit. His hand moved up her torso as he kissed her relentlessly, demanding her response as he sought out each rib, slowly exploring her until he was brushing the full undercurve of her breast. He paused there momentarily, lightly brushing his thumb back and forth. Finally, his thumb ventured higher, gently rubbing her stiff and aching nipple through the lacy bra she wore, and her back arched involuntarily as hot, liquid desire shot straight down to the sensitive apex of her thighs.

      A small moan escaped her. The sound startled her and interrupted the daze of desire, and she came out of the sensual moment long enough to grab his wrist. ‘‘Wait. Someone might come in.’’

      Derek stilled, his mouth and his hand both frozen in place. Finally, he pulled his mouth away from hers, shaking his head as if shaking off a hypnotic spell as he slowly, reluctantly withdrew his hand, caressing her gently as he tugged her blouse back into place. ‘‘Whoa. I’m sorry.’’ He blew out a dazed breath as he shook his head. ‘‘That got…a little out of hand.’’

      ‘‘A little?’’ Her laugh was shaky as she straightened her shirt.

      He stroked a hand down the unruly length of her hair and released her, smiling crookedly. ‘‘You sit over there.’’ He backed away from her, waving toward the chair on the other side of the desk. ‘‘I don’t trust myself when you’re within reach.’’

      I don’t trust myself when you’re within reach. It was true. The muscles of his belly tightened as he looked across the desk at her.

      Her hair was a wild, curly tangle and her eyes glowed with warmth. Her lips were red and swollen and there was a pink flush along her jawbone where his beard stubble had abraded her tender skin. He hadn’t meant to do that, and he suffered a momentary remorse at marking her. The scariest part was that he couldn’t even remember how it had happened.

      God! She exploded in his arms, her response a sweet, honest welcome that made it difficult for him to remember his own name, let alone anything else. He’d been celibate by choice in the years since his wife had died and now his body felt as if he were ready to make up for all the thousands of lonely hours in one hot, steamy, endless night.

      To distract himself, he said, ‘‘Tell me about these applicants while we eat.’’

      ‘‘All right.’’ Kristin pushed a set of utensils at him. He was grateful that she accepted the change of subject so easily. It gave him time to come to grips with the way his world had changed.

      A sexual relationship. With Kris. Giving voice to the idea, even if it was only in his head, gave him pause. Was he really thinking of having an affair with her?

      He knew how he’d feel if she were contemplating such a course with any other man, and he wasn’t sure he even liked himself very much for considering her that way. God, this whole situation was making him crazy. Deliberately, he forced himself to set aside his churning thoughts. Kristin didn’t appear to be the least bit conflicted as she prepared plates of the Chinese food for each of them. Maybe he was making too big a deal out of the whole thing.

      As they ate, she detailed the three individuals who had applied for the executive directorship.

      None of them, in his opinion, sounded like what the sanctuary needed. ‘‘I’d like to see them hire someone who can take the sanctuary to a new level,’’ he told her. ‘‘Someone with experience in fund-raising and marketing. Someone who sees expanding our sights beyond the local efforts in a positive light.’’

      ‘‘What do you mean, ‘beyond the local efforts’?’’ She was studying him, her intelligent green eyes assessing as she considered his words.

      ‘‘State-wide. Nationally, even.’’ He hunted through one of the stacks of literature on his desk, coming up with the magazine he wanted. ‘‘This is from a nationally known animal sanctuary in Utah. They get grants, enormous bequests, stuff like that. They have tons of clever programs that encourage people to donate to special projects. And they offer how-to seminars on everything from fund-raising to feral cat colonies.’’ He tapped the magazine with a finger. ‘‘You should look at this.’’

      ‘‘I will.’’ She took it from him and laid it aside, concentrating on her food. ‘‘I’ve been thinking about the next director, too. I’m going to recommend to the board that they create a contract with a definite end date and a set of goals they’d like to see accomplished in that time. That way, they’ll be able to measure how well someone is working out and give themselves a way to release an employee who isn’t living up to expectations. If we were to hire someone like you’re talking about, that would be a vital part of the contract.’’

      His eyebrows rose. ‘‘Great idea.’’ He cleared his throat, remembering a conversation he’d had with Rusty a few days before. ‘‘Have you considered staying in the position?’’

      She cocked her head. ‘‘Permanently?’’

      He nodded. ‘‘Rusty mentioned to me that the board wanted to ask you to accept the job for good.’’

      ‘‘He hinted at it.’’ She shook her head. ‘‘Not interested. Although I’m enjoying the challenge, I still want to keep my accounting practice. I’m