The Shop of Shades and Secrets (Modern Gothic Romance 1) by Colleen Gleason Page B

the desk, taking care not to knock off a pile of papers. How could anyone who seemed so imposing and rigid become so gorgeous with only a smile? And how could the mere weight of his gaze cause such a surge of heat through her?
     
    “You know,” she said flippantly, “you should smile more often. It makes you seem much more human.” She turned away before her meltdown could become obvious, and busied herself by straightening a stack of handwritten purchase requisitions that were scattered on the desk.
     
    As she nonchalantly reached for a pen, she felt his presence close in behind her. Fiona jerked and nearly knocked the phone off its stand as he spoke, purring into her ear, his breath wafting warmly over her bare neck. “Aren’t you wondering why I came by?”
     
    “To save me from the phantom lamp?” she replied lightly, moving away so that he couldn’t hear the thundering of her heart.
     
    “No.”
     
    That simple word hung there—deep, husky, radiating layers and layers of meaning—and caused a shiver to work its way along her arm, raising goose bumps in its path. If nothing else, he was patient, for it was Fiona who finally turned to face him after an impossibly long silence.
     
    “For what then?” But she didn’t need to ask the question, for the narrowing of his silvery eyes and the tautness of his fine mouth spoke volumes.
     
    “Surely you don’t expect to walk away from a kiss like the one we had without wondering what more there could be?” Arrogance laced his words as his eyes traveled the length of her body.
     
    Fiona allowed her brows to rise and a smile to quirk her lips as heat flooded her body. “Kiss?” she said, teasing, trying to appear unruffled. “I don’t remember any—”
     
    Suddenly she was in his arms and the rest of her words were smothered by his very skillful, very adamant mouth. With a sigh of capitulation—for she had wondered if it had, indeed, been as good as she remembered—Fiona sagged against his solid body, sliding her hands up into the thick waves of his hair.
     
    As lips fit to lips—tasting, caressing, slip-sliding—his hands formed to her body, smoothing down the length of her back to cup her rear, pulling her up and to him so that she was in no doubt of his arousal. A sharp pang of desire low in her groin bloomed into tingling, sparkling heat, and she pressed back into Gideon, sliding her hands to his shoulders, savoring the taste of him.
     
    A soft groan rose in his throat and sighed against her lips as they became insistent, almost rough. Then, drawing in a ragged breath, he pulled away just enough to sweep her onto the desk. The phone crashed to the floor, scattering papers and the cup filled with pens, but Fiona didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything except touching Gideon—smelling his spicy, male smell, hearing the rasp of his breath, feasting on him—becoming enraptured.
     
    He stood between her knees and she tilted her head, allowing his mouth to trail along her bare neck as she pulled the jacket from his shoulders. He shrugged it to the floor and her hands became free to mold over the hard planes of his chest.
     
    Finally, he broke the kiss. Gently and delicately, he caressed her upper, then her lower, lip with his, gave her one last full-mouthed buss, and pulled away. Her hands were still planted on either side of the placket of buttons on his shirt, and she felt the rapid beat of his heart and steady warmth beneath her fingers while his chest rose and fell with heavy breathing.
     
    “That kiss,” he murmured.
     
    He smiled a sensual smile and Fiona became more lightheaded. “Ah. I see your point.” The room was spinning, but she had the wherewithal to echo his earlier words in hopes of hiding the devastation their embrace had wrought.
     
    Dark hair shadowed his forehead and the planes of his cheekbones stood out in relief, as though he’d sucked in his breath. His eyes were dark and fierce, but the words that came out