Tomorrow is the big day! FROZEN IN ICE (my new romantic suspense) officially releases on 4/5!!!
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He wanted to reach out and touch her. Instead, his hands clenched into fists. âIf youâre not Cinderella, then who the hell are you?â
âBack to that, are we?â A low, amused laugh. âWhy donât you just call me the wicked stepsister? Think of me as the one the slipper doesnât fit.â
She still wasnât giving him a name. What she was doingâdriving up his curiosity. And, dammit, his attraction.
âItâs been anâŚexperience meeting you,â she noted with a little nod. âI donât think I will be forgetting you anytime soon.â
He knew he wouldnât be forgetting her. At all. Heâ
âGood night, Archer,â she whispered as she pushed up onto her toes. Her hand rose and curled behind his head, and she tugged him toward her. Toward her mouth.
The kiss happened before he could even think. One second, he was plotting about what to do with her, and the nextâhis mouth was on hers. And she was kissing him with a careful, skilled passion. With total control. Licking lightly with her tongue in a technique he was sure was designed to drive him crazy.
Fine. It was driving him crazy. She tasted rich and decadent. Her mouth was soft and lush, and all he wanted to do was pick her up and get lost in her. Right then. Right there.
Sheâd just cost him one hundred grand. Sheâd schemed. Lied. Tricked him.
And now she was trying to seduce him.
So he let her. What the hell? The night was certainly different. It wasâ
She pulled back. âNot bad.â Her fingers touched her lower lip. Was it his imagination, or did her fingertips tremble just a bit? âBut Iâve had better.â
His jaw clenched.
She turned and walked down the stairs. She still gripped the clutch.
Cinderella didnât leave a shoe behind for him. She didnât even glance back. But then again, she wasnât Cinderella.
And he wasnât a freaking prince.
He waited until she was gone, then he slowly opened his hand. When sheâd been kissing him, heâd taken the liberty of slipping his hand inside that tiny clutch of hers. So small that there had only been room for her ID, keys, and some cash.
He looked down at her ID. Brought out his phone. Shined his light on it.
No, she wasnât Cinderella.
She was Delilah Darrow, and sheâd just played with the wrong man.