“Why is it I can’t get you out of my mind? You say we
haven’t met, but my dreams remember you.”
Oh yeah, he’d dreamt of a woman for months now. She
resembled his dream woman in so many ways, but he’d never
seen his fantasy lover’s face.
She struggled against his clutch. “Mr. Alcott, I assure you
we haven’t met. And for your other question, I don’t know
why, but you need to release me.”
Why did that quivering bottom lip make him suspect she was
lying? Turner rested his forehead against the top of hers
and sucked in her scent. “Please, tell me I’m not losing my
mind. Tell me you don’t visit me every night and I’ll
promise to leave you alone. I just need to know.”
He sounded like a crazy man but she had to tell him. She was
the only one who could put a stop to his mind’s constant
fantasizing, and this feeling of déjà vu every time he saw her.
Ice wriggled in his arms, her thighs chafing against his
slacks. “Mr. Alcott, you need to let me go.” She glanced
around his shoulder. “Brodie is probably staring out that
glass window and I would hate for him to get the wrong
impression.”
She was right. He needed to get ahold of himself, but he
didn’t have the strength to walk away. His hands traveled up
and over her shoulders, stalling on her neck. Brushing his
thumbs against her jaw, he pressed her head back and stared
into hard eyes—no emotion. Couldn’t she see the battle he
fought?
He teased the corner of her mouth with his thumb and her
breathy gasp pleased him. So, she wasn’t completely immune
to him. He dropped his head until his mouth hovered over hers.
“Mr. Alcott—”
“Shhh. I just need a taste of the sunshine.”