Witness Seduction

One touch was all it took…

Marley’s tank top had ridden up, and Caleb found himself touching bare skin. Bare, warm skin, so soft that he hissed in a breath.

“I…” Marley’s voice drifted and her mouth fell

He could do nothing to hide his swift response. Her flesh felt like heaven, and her sweet scent was far too intoxicating. Before he could stop himself, he moved his hand over her hip in a fleeting caress. An unsteady breath slid out of her throat.

Insanity. This was freaking insanity, and he was helpless to stop it. He’d been watching Marley Kincaid for seven days, watching and yearning and fighting the arousal he knew he shouldn’t be feeling.

But he couldn’t fight it now. Not when she was this close.

Screw it. Kissing her was wrong on so many levels, but at this point, he didn’t care. He wanted her so badly his bones ached.

So he took her…

ELLE KENNEDY grew up in the suburbs of Toronto, Ontario, and holds a BA in English from York University. From an early age, she knew she wanted to be a writer, and actively began pursuing that dream when she was only a teenager. When she’s not writing, she’s reading. And when she’s not reading, she’s making music with her drummer boyfriend, oil painting or indulging her love for board games.

Elle loves to hear from her readers. Visit her at her website www.ellekennedy.com to send her a note.

Elle Kennedy

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Amanda

“OKAY, HOW ABOUT THIS—you’re walking down the street and suddenly you bump into a tall, dark and handsome stranger who sweeps you off your feet, looks deep into your eyes and says, ‘I have never seen such exquisite beauty. Have coffee with me, my mysterious maiden.’ Would you go out with him?”

Marley Kincaid burst into laughter, nearly spilling her coffee all over the oak work island in the middle of her kitchen. She set down the mug and grinned at her best friend. “‘My mysterious maiden’?” she echoed. “Uh, yeah, I’m not sure I could go out with any man who called me that.”

Gwen Shaffer rolled her eyes. “Okay, pretend he didn’t say that. He’s just a drop-dead gorgeous guy who wants to buy you a cup of coffee. Would you go?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Marley sighed. “Why are you so eager to get me dating again?”

Gwen had raised the subject the second she’d walked into the house nearly an hour ago, and Marley was growing tired of it. She didn’t usually mind when Gwen popped in on her day off to chat over coffee, but this conversation was beginning to annoy her. Somehow it had gone from Gwen trying to convince her to go on a blind date to what-if scenarios that made no sense. She knew her friend meant well, but what was the point in talking about all the possible ways she might meet a man?

“Because you’ve barely left this house in months,” Gwen replied. “I want to see you having fun again. All you do is paint and put up wallpaper and—”

“I’m renovating,” Marley interrupted. “And I’m enjoying it.”

“You’re hiding from the world, and you know it.” Gwen’s tone softened. “Look, I understand, hon. That bastard is still on the run. If it were me, I’d be worried, too. I mean, what if he shows up here pleading for help or something?”

Marley’s entire body tensed. She swallowed hard, turning her head so she was spared the familiar flicker of sympathy in her friend’s dark-green eyes. She hated it when Gwen brought up Patrick. Hated being reminded of the disastrous relationship that had ended in a train wreck she hadn’t seen coming.

Eight months ago, she’d been on top of the world. Working at a job she loved, buying her first home, falling in love.

Well, she still had the job and the house, but the man she loved? Turned out he hadn’t been all that worthy of her undying affection.

She’d met Patrick at the hospital, where he’d been recovering from a nasty stab wound to his side. Mugged on his way home from work, or so she’d believed at the time. She’d been assigned to his room, and it hadn’t taken long for Patrick’s easygoing charm to lure her in.

They went on their first date the night he got discharged from the hospital and, three weeks later, he practically moved into her house. Four months after that, they were engaged.

It’d lasted five months. Five months of great sex and laughter and that wonderful feeling of falling in love with a handsome, attentive man. He’d wrapped her in a protective bubble and made her believe anything was possible. Patrick had been good at that, playing makebelieve. So good that when the cops had come knocking on her door, she’d actually defended him.

She still remembered the disbelief on those police officers’ faces when she’d finally realized the truth. That her fiancé was not a freelance web designer, but a drug distributor. Not to mention the prime suspect in the fatal shooting of a federal agent.

God, what a fool she’d been.

“He won’t show up,” she said darkly. “He’s probably lying on a beach in Mexico, laughing at the law-enforcement officers who couldn’t catch him.”

Fortunately, Patrick hadn’t tried contacting her since he’d fled three months before, and good riddance. She never wanted to see that man again, and for the past few months she’d gone to great lengths to permanently erase him from her life. Burned his clothes in the backyard, flushed his engagement ring down the toilet.