Tea for Two Read online

  “It’s not much fun. Have you spoken to any reporters since the story came out?”

  “No, I haven’t. Wait…there was a woman who came up to me on the train while I was going home to see my parents. She gave me a business card and told me to call her if I wanted to talk, but that was all.” Her blue eyes beseeched him to believe her.

  “Okay.” Sam picked up half of his sandwich and ate it in silence. He noticed the occupants of the table next to them staring. When he glared at them, they hurriedly looked away.

  “You believe me?”

  Did he believe her? He had the sources to check, but more than anything, he believed Suzie. She trusted Hayley, and that made him accept her story. “Yes, I believe you. It’s easy enough for me to check.”

  “I’ll give you Dan, my brother-in-law’s contact details if you’d like. I told him I’d speak to you about Abbey. He won’t mind talking to you.”

  Sam finished off his sandwich and took a sip of his beer. This morning things had been so clear. This thing between them was over. Anger had made things easy. But now… His shoulders heaved in a deep breath. No. He couldn’t do this now. He needed to think, to work out exactly what he wanted from Hayley. Sam downed the rest of his beer and stood.

  “Thanks for telling me. Appreciate it.” And he walked away.

  Hayley stared after him in shock. Her eyes slowly narrowed as anger built. That was it? He was just walking away after everything between them, without exploring the possibilities. The magic between them was rare. Didn’t he know that? A harsh breath rasped from her lungs, her hands clenched and unclenched. He couldn’t do this. Walk away without looking back. She wouldn’t let him. If he could stand in front of her and say he didn’t love her, he didn’t care then she might accept it. Even though it hurt.

  Hayley decided she’d go to his apartment. Confront him one final time for her peace of mind. She’d hate knowing she hadn’t tried, had given up without a fight. Yeah, she knew herself. Regrets—she’d have more than a few.

  Hayley finished her drink and stood, stopping to say goodbye to Suzie. “I’m going back to the flat. I’ll see you later.”

  Outside the pub, three men pounced. “Hayley, what’s up with you and the playboy?”

  Hayley held her head high and kept walking, weaving through the pedestrians. The reporters followed, firing questions, but she ignored them. As she neared Earl’s Court tube station, the crowds thickened with shoppers, convention people and workers heading home. Australian accents. English. South African and European. One of the more determined reporters followed her onto the train. Hayley thought he sounded like a whining mosquito.

  “Go away,” she said loudly. “Leave me alone.”

  “Is he bothering you, Miss?” A large man covered with dust from a building site stood behind the reporter.

  “Yes,” Hayley said with a glare at the reporter intent on hounding her until she gave him an interview. “This man is following me and I don’t know him. If he doesn’t stop I will call the police.” Hayley scowled at the man and plucked her cell phone from her handbag. She flipped the phone open and started to dial.

  With a curse, the reporter shoved past the commuters standing in the aisle, leaving Hayley staring after him.

  “Thanks,” she said to the builder.

  “No problem. Don’t like men like him.”

  At seven-thirty Hayley decided Sam should have arrived home by now or at least be close. After changing her clothes four times, Hayley finally settled on casual—jeans and a blouse in her favorite blue along with brown sandals. She arrived outside Sam’s flat, her stomach bouncing with nerves. Part of her wanted to turn and run away, but she forced herself to step up to the door. When she was about to ring the buzzer to Sam’s apartment, her cell phone rang.

  “Hayley. It’s Sam. Are you at home? I want to come and see you.”

  Hope sparked to life. “I’m downstairs, about to ring the buzzer to your apartment.”

  “I’ll buzz you in now.” The strident sound made her smile. She pushed through the door, feeling ultimately more confident than she had during the journey from Fulham to Knightsbridge. The lift whooshed up to Sam’s apartment, and he stood there when the doors opened. He didn’t smile. Stillness throbbed around him while his dark eyes studied her, and gradually the expression coalesced into satisfaction. “You came.”

  “Yeah, I couldn’t stay away. I…ah…needed to find out if you felt the same way about me that I feel about you.” There. She’d said it out loud.

  “Come inside.” He stretched out his hand to her, the gesture holding more than mere courtesy. The knowledge simmered through the air. In his face. And when his strong fingers closed around hers, it felt like home. An acknowledgement.

  She’d been right to come.

  Sam led her into his apartment and kicked the door shut behind them. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thanks.”

  They stared at each other until a smile crept across Sam’s face.

  “Are we okay?” Hayley thought they might be, but wasn’t one hundred percent sure. “You believe me.”

  “That you wouldn’t sell me out to the press. Yeah, we’re good. Once I’d considered what you said, I believed you.” He drew her closer, his dark gaze feeling as if it physically caressed her. Then his lips were on hers. Soft. Tentative. He lifted his head to cup her face in his hands. Their gazes met and Sam smiled.

  “I love you, Hayley Williams. I’ve been fighting the need to say it for days.”

  “But, Sam. We haven’t known each other for very long.” Her breathing hitched while she sought calm, the voice of reason.

  “Compared to my parents and brother we’ve set a world record for taking our time.” He smoothed his hand over her hair and stroked her palm, eliciting a shiver of pleasure. His touch washed through her and she basked under his intense scrutiny.

  “What if there are more stories in the press?” Her brow wrinkled as she thought of more public attention.

  “There will be,” Sam said, his smile smoothing out. “It’s part of the territory. But don’t worry.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her farther into the apartment. “We’ll try to manage future press coverage.”

  Hayley’s heart started to pound. A future. Yes, he’d said he loved her, but a future? “Do we have a future? I didn’t think you wanted to commit to one woman.” She moved away from him, edgy and restless, unable to truly believe they might have a future because she wanted it so badly.

  “I can’t imagine life without you, Hayley. What do you think?”

  Hayley grinned. “I might be interested.”

  He growled, a rattle deep in his throat, and advanced on her, intent written clearly on his face. “Might?”

  A giggle erupted and she backed up, only stopping when the wall at her back halted further retreat. She met his gaze, her heart melting. “Sam, I love you. I tried really hard not to because it made things complicated—with my lies—but you kept pushing your way into my thoughts.”

  “Glad I did something right.” Sam wrapped his arms around her shoulders and, without warning, scooped her off her feet, cradling her in his arms. He carried her through the lounge and down the passage to his bedroom, dropping her on his bed. “You’ll marry me.”

  “Are you asking?”

  “Yes.” He leaned over her to trail a line of kisses over her jaw, placing the final one near the corner of her mouth.

  Hayley sighed and reached up to wrap her arms around his neck. He overbalanced, falling on top of her. “Perfect,” she said.

  “Will you marry me, Hayley?”

  A slow smile spread across her mouth. “I’m probably unemployed as of today. I’m not sure yet because I rang in sick today.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You fit into our conference program easily enough.”

  “I’m a fake tea leaf reader.”

  He smoothed a lock of hair off her face and smiled down at her. “That’s not what Suzie said. And do
n’t forget, I’ve visited your flat. You have a bookcase full of research books on the art of reading tea leaves.”

  “That’s true,” she conceded, “but at the start I was merely someone to fill in when the real reader was sick.”

  “Any more objections?”

  Hayley’s brow wrinkled, but she silently laughed. “I think that’s all for the moment.”

  “Good,” he said. “Agree to marry me and we can get to the good stuff.”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes?”

  “Definitely yes,” Hayley said. “I’ll marry you.”

  Their lips met in a kiss of commitment, of promises for the future. The tender meeting of lips turned into more. Hot. Hungry. Desperate. Clothes melted away. Limbs brushed and bodies moved together. Promises made. Promises given. They gave and received pleasure until the fire between them burned out of control. Finally, they stilled, both breathing heavily.

  Sam drew her close, smoothing his hand down her bare back. “I’m going to like being married to you.”

  “You’re meant to love it,” she said smiling at him.

  “I will,” he promised. “From now on it will be tea for two, at least until we have children.”

  “Tea for two, huh? I like it.” The delight faded from her face, and she stroked her fingers along his jaw, staring deep into his eyes. “I’d love to have kids, although not straight away, if that’s okay. I’d like to spend time alone with you first.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Sam said. “All along I’ve rubbished the idea of love at first sight. My family is going to enjoy ribbing me, making me eat my words. You’ll have to help me suffer through the teasing.”

  Hayley chuckled, loving the teasing beneath the surface, the love for her blazing in his eyes. “It will be my pleasure.” And it would. With Sam at her side, she’d come a full circle, back to impulsive and spontaneous actions and fun. But most of all, she’d come to trust her gut instincts and she’d found love. And she couldn’t do much better than that.

  About the Author

  To learn more about Shelley Munro, please visit www.shelleymunro.com. Send an email to Shelley at [email protected].

  Wrong bed…right man?

  Midnight Encounters

  © 2008 Elle Kennedy

  Between her waitressing job, volunteer work, and college classes, there are never enough hours in the day for Maggie Reilly. Especially not for a relationship. She’s got the perfect arrangment, though—a lover she meets three or four times a year. This weekend is one of those rare times, and she’s more than ready for a few nights of stress-busting sex.

  But when she shows up at the hotel expecting to hop into bed with one man, she accidentally ends up with quite another: Ben Barrett, Hollywood’s most notorious bad boy.

  Ben, determined to lay low after another scandal, has checked into the hotel for some much-needed sleep. What he gets is a scorching-hot makeout session with a gorgeous, naked redhead. He won’t accept her apology, but what he will accept is a place to hide out—in her arms. In exchange, he’ll give her what she wants. A full week of no-strings sex.

  Ben soon finds out that one week with the fiery redhead is definitely not enough. He finds himself wanting more. A lot more. Now if only he can convince Maggie that a bad boy might just be good for her—and the best thing that’s ever happened to both of them.

  Warning: This title contains a sexy movie star and a sassy redhead who know exactly how to heat up the sheets. The wild sex might require the use of an air-conditioner. Graphic language and explicit sex.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Midnight Encounters:

  As Maggie let herself into the room, she was instantly engulfed by shadows. She blinked and waited for her eyes to focus, while she tried to figure out the reason for the dead silence hanging over the room. No, wait, not dead silence. Her ears perked as the sound of light breathing floated from the direction of the bed.

  “Oh, don’t do this to me, Anthony,” she chided softly, dropping her purse on the table beside her and turning to lock the door. “I see you three times a year, at least have the decency to stay awake.”

  No response.

  A slow grin spread over her mouth as she took another step forward. She was tempted to flick on the lights and maybe stomp her foot to jar Tony from his slumber, but that wouldn’t be fun, would it?

  Instead, she reached for the hem of her black baby tee and pulled the shirt over her head. She unhooked her lacy bra, and it fell onto the carpet, followed by her short denim skirt, skimpy panties and the heels on her feet.

  She shivered as the cool air met her naked skin, then she crept toward the edge of the bed, still grinning. Tony was about to get a hell of a wake-up call.

  “C’mon, Tony,” she murmured, “you only flew in from Nassau. Don’t plead jet lag.”

  She was answered by a husky male groan.

  “Ah, so he’s alive,” she teased, reaching for the corner of the flower-patterned blanket.

  With a quiet chuckle, she slid under the covers and pressed her body against Tony’s, fighting back a moan as his warm, rock-hard chest pressed against her bare breasts. Her nipples instantly hardened, the tight buds springing against the soft feathering of hair on that glorious chest.

  She swung one leg over his muscular thighs, hoping the heat from her aching pussy might jumpstart his sluggish brain into action, but he remained motionless. The room was still bathed in darkness, and though she could barely see his face, it was obvious he was in a seriously deep sleep.

  “I see how it is,” she said, starting to grow annoyed. “Fine, you want me to raise you from the dead? How’s this?”

  She placed her hand directly on his crotch, a little surprised when she didn’t find the cotton barrier of his briefs. Since when did Tony sleep in the buff?

  Not that she minded.

  As a lazy heat began dancing through her veins, she dragged her index finger along the length of his shaft. Like his chest, it was rock-hard, and…bigger? No, it couldn’t be.

  She ran her finger over the tip of his cock, felt the drop of moisture there, and smiled as another groan broke through the silence. Finally. Signs of life.

  His massive erection told her he’d be getting into the swing of things soon, and she was right. The second she squeezed his shaft, one powerful arm slid out and pulled her closer. She found herself crushed in his embrace, his cock still in her hand, while a pair of warm lips sought hers in the darkness.

  His kiss stole the breath from her lungs and made her gasp against his hot mouth. There was nothing soft or gentle about it, just a greedy devouring, the hungry thrusts of his tongue, the sting of his teeth as he bit her lower lip.

  Oh dear God, when did Tony start kissing like this?

  And why hadn’t he done it sooner?

  The intensity of his kisses caused her to drop her hand from his throbbing erection, and all she could do was lose herself in the delicious sensations his mouth and tongue created in her body. Limbs turning to jelly. Moisture pooling between her legs. Nipples so tight it was almost painful.

  A fire hotter than she’d ever experienced slowly swept over her. Crackling when he bit her lip again. Hissing when his hand cupped a breast.

  And then he slid one finger into her sopping wet pussy and she was shocked to feel the ripples of an impending orgasm rising to the surface.

  She clamped her teeth down on her bottom lip, trying to stop herself from climaxing. It was too fast, too soon.

  How is this possible? her overly-aroused brain demanded.

  She’d slept with this guy dozens of times before, so why was her entire body swarming with unfamiliar—but totally incredible—sensations?

  She pried open her eyelids, hoping if she let their gazes lock, she might make sense of it. She squinted, blinked as she searched his face in the dark, and then wondered why his features seemed more…rugged.

  Her gaze drifted lower and settled on his arm—was that a tattoo? When had Tony gotten him
self inked?

  And why wasn’t he tanned? He’d just come from the Bahamas, so really, he should have a—

  “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” came a sleepy voice.

  The husky sound that filled the room made her sit up as if someone had shoved a ten-thousand-volt wire up her spine.

  Why didn’t she recognize his voice?

  As a steady stream of panic rushed up her throat, she stared down at the dark head beside her, and repeated his question in her disorientated brain.

  What was the matter?

  In one very swift, very startling moment, Maggie knew exactly what the matter was.

  She was in bed with a complete and total stranger.

  Can passion be found in a bottle?

  The Passion-Minded Professor

  © 2008 Natasha Moore

  Roxy Morgan is finally in control of her life. After working in the family diner to put her now ex-husband through law school, she’s getting her own chance at a college education. She doesn’t need any distractions in her life right now, especially men. The strong magnetic pull she feels toward chemistry professor Dr. Daniel Jennings is more than just an annoyance—it’s threatening her GPA. Yet she can’t seem to keep mind on her studies, or her hands off him.

  Driven, lonely Daniel has been working to perfect an attraction elixir so he can finally find what’s been missing in his life: Passion. Sassy, outgoing Roxy wasn’t supposed to be part of his experiment. It was purely an accident. Now his elixir has given him an unexpected side effect—he’s fallen in love. But his sense of honor nags him to tell her the truth about the “love potion.”