How to Trap a Tycoon Elizabeth Bevarly (year 7 reading list txt) 📖

so, I guess, is Lauren Grable-Monroe. But they're both only a part of who I really am. Nobody seems to realize that except me. I'm not sure I even realized it myself until just recently."

Adam gazed at her in thoughtful silence for another long moment, taking in her hair, her eyes, her mouth … and then some. Finally, with a very wicked smile, he said, "Then maybe I need to get to know you—all of you—better."

And before Dorsey—or anybody—could say another word, he lowered his head and covered her mouth with his.

It was such a pleasant kiss. Nothing ravenous, nothing demanding, nothing intense, just … pleasantness. Tenderness. Entreaty. He plied her lips slowly, softly, gently with his again and again and again. And Dorsey succumbed gladly, entirely, melting against him as if it was where she was meant to be. It was where she was meant to be. And it was where she wanted to stay. Forever.

She pushed herself up on tiptoe and roped her arms around his neck, threading the fingers of one hand through his hair, curling the others around his nape. And as she kissed him back, she tasted faint hints of coffee and mint toothpaste and something else … something less tangible … something less distinct…

A promise. She tasted a promise in him. Or perhaps it was in her. In either case, she knew then that everything would work out between them. What they had created together, what they had grown and nurtured during the weeks they'd been together, what they were stirring to life once again… It was going to be all right, she told herself. All of it. All of her. All of them.

Adam pulled his head back from hers then, but only far enough so that he could gaze down into her eyes. "I've missed you … Dorsey," he said, smiling as he tripped over her name. "That's going to take some getting used to," he added with a chuckle, a flash of merriment brightening his eyes. "But I have missed you. All of you. And I'll do whatever I have to do to get every last one of you back."

He'd do whatever he had to do? Dorsey marveled. Good heavens. All he had to do was … well … say something along the lines of what he'd just said. That and—

"Forgive me," she told him. "If you can do that, then—"

"Done," he replied readily. "Just promise me we will be nothing but honest with each other in the future."

"I promise," she vowed.

"Me, too," he told her. "I should start off by telling you very honestly that I love you. In all your incarnations."

She uttered a nervous chuckle. "Even Lauren?" she asked.

He nodded. "She's a witty dame, and she looks great in a short skirt."

Dorsey laughed. "Better than Mack in a necktie?"

He narrowed his eyes in thought. "Hmm… That depends."

"On what?"

"On whether Mack is wearing just a necktie."

Dorsey feigned shock. "You wicked, wicked man."

He grinned, wickedly if she did say so herself. "Hey, baby, you ain't seen nothin' yet," he murmured as he pulled her close again.

It shouldn't be this easy , she thought. After the month she'd spent struggling to keep her life together, finding her way back to Adam should be like hacking a path through the Amazon rain forest at the height of the wet season. With a butter knife. Blindfolded and barefoot. With piranhas nipping at her heels. And a side of bloody beef tied around her neck.

But this…

"Actually," he said as he nuzzled the very sensitive spot just below her ear, "there is one more thing I require of you."

Naturally , she thought. "You want me to get on my knees and beg for you," she guessed.

He pulled back again, arching a dark brow in thoughtful speculation. "Gee, I hadn't thought about that, but now that you mention it…"

"Adam…"

"Well, maybe later," he relented. "For now, I just require that you tell me how you feel. About me. Honestly, I mean."

His uncertainty was evident in the way he was looking at her, and Dorsey couldn't believe that he would still harbor some doubt about her feelings for him. Oh, well. She would just have to spend the rest of her life showing him exactly how she felt. In as many ways as possible. In each and every one of her incarnations. Mack would love him like a cherished friend and confidante. Lauren would love him like a passionate and eager mistress. And Dorsey would love him … well, she would love him totally. Irrevocably. Eternally.

And she summed it all up in three little words. "I love you," she told him simply. "There. That was honest."

"It was also," he told her, "very arousing."

Actually, Dorsey had already guessed that, because his arousal was palpable—mostly against her thigh.

"So," he piped up brightly when he realized that she had recognized his … palpableness. "Where do we go from here?"

"Well, since Carlotta's home today. I guess there's always your place," she suggested.

He smiled. "We'll get to that soon enough," he promised. "What I actually meant was, where do you go from here?"

"Oh." She sighed, hoping her disappointment wasn't too terribly obvious. For now, she contented herself—pretty much—with snuggling more resolutely against him. "Well, Severn has made it clear that there won't be a job for me here. Not in the sociology department, at any rate. They might have something opening up in janitorial soon, but…" She tried to chuckle, didn't quite manage it, and so shut up.

"You don't think you might find something with one of the other colleges or universities?" he asked. "There are an awful lot in the area"

"Actually," she told him, "I've already received quite a few offers of employment to teach, both here and out of state."

He pulled back to look at her again, his expression sober. Very sober. "Out of state?" he asked. "You mean, like … Indiana ?"

She shook her head. "I mean like New England ."

" New England ?"

She nodded. "Some of the positions even come with