This Sunday, I’ll nod at Italia in keeping with the recent theme of my blog.
This excerpt is from Fashion Victim by Sue Swift, and takes place in Florence.
Here’s the book blurb:
Hot isn’t a hot enough word to describe corporate raider Fletcher Wolf, but since he’s suing couturier Cara Fletcher for, oh, a gazillion dollars, she figures she shouldn’t hit on him…at least not too hard.
On top of that, she wonders if he’s responsible for the harassment and vandalism that’s plaguing her, irritants that escalate into crimes when her workshop is trashed to the tune of a hundred thousand dollars. The economic damage enables him to seize her company, bringing him into her life on a daily basis. When her Manhattan loft home is torched and her assistant murdered, Cara realizes that the man she wants is the only man who can keep her safe.
And here’s the excerpt:
I stopped to stare as we rounded a corner. The Ponte Vecchio lay before us, displayed across the Arno like a fabulous gift. Despite the late hour, the bridge was still lit by the windows of the shops built on it. The gentle sound of the water flowing calmed my nerves, and I was able to look at him. Fletch’s chiseled profile, silhouetted by the bridge’s lights, seemed to soften as he bent his dark head toward me.
He was so beautiful, inside and out, that I couldn’t stop myself. I reached up, slid one hand behind his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. He responded immediately, urging me into a closer embrace. His tongue probed, plunged, probed again, turning me on, lighting a fire that only Fletcher could bring and that only he could quench.
My mouth was a live wire zinging pleasure through my body. I sucked greedily, curling my tongue around his, playing with him, needing to give him as much joy as he gave me with his slightest caress.
Breathless with excitement and anticipation, I broke away to draw in some air. He ran a fingertip along my bangs, ending at my earlobe, which he pinched gently, then took between his lips, nibbling. He feathered his lips along my neck, and I shivered again, bending back my throat. My neck is very sensitive, and I knew kisses there would take me even higher.
Dammit, he let me go. “That’s the first time you kissed me.” His voice was deep with pleasure.
“We’ve kissed plenty of times.”
He shook his head. “I’ve kissed you. You’ve responded, but this is the first time you’ve kissed me. Do it some more, baby.”
Grinning, I pulled his head closer and nibbled on his lower lip. He sighed into my mouth, his breath scented with Chianti. Yum. I kissed deeper, tugging on his suit jacket while he wrapped one arm around me. We began to walk along the riverbank toward the hotel.
I was overcome by a fever of anticipation and couldn’t keep my hands off him. I undid two buttons on his shirt, slipping my hand into the slit to caress his chest as he pushed at the revolving doors of the hotel.
“Oh, Cara, you wicked woman.” His voice dropped to a growl as he kept me close by his side.
If you like what you read, go to http://www.amazon.com/Fashion-Victim-Sue-Swift/dp/1594149305/ref=sr_1_10?ie=UTF8&qid=1319383734&sr=8-10
and get my book
Victoria Blisse’s Sunday Snog is at