The Millionaire's Snowbound Seduction

By: Sandra Marton

‘Think it over, kid.’ Carefully, ever so slowly, Nick began lifting himself from the floor. How clearly could the guy see him? Not very. He’d have to bet on that. ‘I’m willing to give you my word that I won’t press charges if you—’

‘You won’t press charges? For what?’

‘For breaking and entering. For putting a hole in my skull. For menacing me with a gun.’

‘You really are crazy! I didn’t break or enter anything. As for menacing…you’re the one who’s doing the men—’

A scream broke from Holly’s throat. The man had come to his feet with a blinding burst of speed. She turned to flee but he was across the room and on her before she’d had the chance to take a step.

‘Okay, kid,’ he snarled.

The phone went flying as he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her, kicking and screaming, from the floor. They lurched across the darkened living room in a grotesque two-step, crashed against a table and careened into the sofa. The man went down and she went down with him, falling across his body and into his lap.

‘The police are coming,’ Holly panted. ‘I called them, as soon as I heard you breaking in.’

‘You didn’t call anybody, punk.’ Nick wrestled the kid’s hands over his head, rolled over and pinned the slight body beneath his. ‘And why would you, when you’re the one who’s done the breaking in?’

‘Get off me!’ Holly jerked her hips up and tried to wriggle free of the hard body above her. The hard, masculine body that seemed—that seemed strangely familiar…

‘Forget it, kid,’ Nick growled.

‘Get off!’ Holly twisted beneath him again.

‘Hey.’ Nick scowled. ‘Don’t—don’t do that.’

Holly fought harder. Her body brushed his, and a flash of heat shot through her blood, which was not just crazy but sick. ‘Get off, dammit,’ she yelled, and shoved against him again.

Bloody hell. Nick caught his breath. What was happening here? His anatomy was reacting to the shifting motions of the kid’s. That was nuts. Worse than nuts…

…Except, this wasn’t a kid trapped under him. And it certainly wasn’t a boy. It was—it was…

‘Holly?’ he whispered.

The body beneath his became rigid. ‘Nick?’

‘Holly,’ he said again. It was all his brain seemed capable of managing.

‘Nick,’ she murmured, on a rising breath.

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘It’s me.’

And then he did the only thing a man could do, under the circumstances.

He bent his head, breathed in the soft, floral scent of his ex-wife, and kissed her.


WAS this a dream, or was it real?

Holly couldn’t tell.

Nick’s arms were around her. His mouth was warm and firm against hers. It felt so good, so familiar, to be in his embrace.

If it was a dream, she wanted it to go on for ever.

Nick groaned softly as he kissed her. It wasn’t a sound of pain; it was a sound of pleasure, one she’d heard many, many times during the months of their marriage. Holly’s heartbeat quickened in response. She knew what would happen next, how his hands would slip beneath her, how he’d cup her bottom and lift her closer so that she could feel the heat and hardness of his arousal against her belly…

Desire, swift and electric as a flash of lightning, shot through her blood. Her arms rose, wound around his neck. Her fingers tangled in his hair.

‘Nick,’ she said in a broken whisper.

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘yes, baby, it’s me.’

She gave a little moan as he kissed her again, more deeply this time, parting her pliant lips with his. His tongue was hot silk as it slipped into her mouth.

‘Oh, Nick,’ she whispered, ‘Nick…’

His hands slid down her body, cupped her, lifted her, brought her hard against him. Holly gasped at the feel of him. Her body felt liquid, eager and ready for his possession.

‘Baby,’ he said, against her lips.

Holly arched against him, mindless with pleasure. This was Nick in her arms. Nick, whom she’d always loved, Nick who had once been her husband…

▶ Also By Sandra Marton

▶ Last Updated

▶ Hot Read

▶ Recommend

Top Books