Before We Kiss (Fool's Gold #14)(14)



“Do I get to ride the elephant?”

“I’m confident that can be arranged.”

* * *

SAM MADE A joke about Priscilla. Dellina was pretty sure she’d responded appropriately, although she wasn’t positive. She was still shaking, still fighting the fiery need that burned low in her belly.

When Sam had pulled her to her feet and held her, she’d nearly melted from the inside out. His hands on her body had reminded her of what had happened between them before. She’d actually had the thought that if they pulled the blinds at the big windows looking into his office, they could pick up where they’d left off right there.

Which was beyond insane. She wasn’t that girl. She was cautious and responsible. She didn’t bring strange men home and she didn’t have sex in people’s offices. Except when it came to Sam.

She drew in a breath and nodded at what she hoped was the appropriate place. She could do this, she told herself firmly. She could act normal and be a professional businesswoman. There was a lot at stake with this party. No way she was going to let her hormones and girl parts ruin a great opportunity.

So she’d pushed him away when what she really wanted to do was drag him closer and let him show her a good time. How strange that he was the one to rock her world...sexually at least. Couldn’t she have the hots for a nice, regular kind of guy? Like a plumber or one of Ryan’s friends? Did she have to go all slutty for a former football star with a fan club and who knows how many exes in his past?

“...talk about the lecture,” he said.

“We should,” she murmured, not sure what he’d been saying. Obviously something about the lecture.

He frowned. “You’ll pull some ideas together?”

“Of course. I’ll find people who are available and there will be a range of topics. We’ll narrow it down.”

“So, in two days?”

“Yes,” she said, figuring he was talking about their next planning session. “Let’s meet at my place. I’ll have charts and graphs for you.”

He grinned. “My favorite.”

“As long as there are numbers, too?”

“You know it.”

He waited while she collected her paperwork and then walked her to the front of the building. When they’d said goodbye, she walked outside and drew in a deep breath.

Talk about embarrassing, she thought as she headed for her car. When she got home, she was going to give herself a stern talking-to. Then she’d have some ice cream. Because there were very few problems chocolate chip cookie dough couldn’t solve, at least temporarily.

* * *

KIPLING GILMORE GLANCED toward the windows. Snow came down steadily, promising a good day of skiing tomorrow. So far he hadn’t done much more than mess around on the slopes and get back into fighting shape in the gym. But the rest of his team would arrive by the end of the week and then the training would get serious.

He used a towel to wipe the sweat from his face, then slowed the treadmill to a walk. Music pounded from the speakers in the hotel gym, but he kept his earbuds tucked in place. Not that his music was any better. The earbuds were his way of keeping the world at bay. At least while he worked out.

The post-Olympic whirlwind had finally slowed. Not that he was complaining. If the price of two gold medals was a round of media events, red carpet appearances and lavish parties all over the world, well, he was man enough to be willing to pay. Although he had tired of finding strange women in his hotel room. Fortunately the management at his hotel in New Zealand were determined to protect his privacy.

He stepped off the treadmill and headed for the exit. He would be back later for a second workout. Weights this time. What he did on skis required more than coordination and luck; it required strength, and he’d gotten lazy since the Olympics.

“Hi, Kipling.”

The greeting came from a sultry blonde in the hallway. Her skintight workout clothes showed that either Mother Nature had been extremely generous or her plastic surgeon had been willing to go larger than suited her frame.

Two years ago he would have paused to talk. Three years ago he would have been backing her into the closest private room and letting her have her fifteen minutes of fame. Now he simply nodded and walked on.

As he waited for the elevator, he checked his cell phone. He hadn’t heard from Shelby in a couple of days and that bothered him. His half sister had recently moved home to care for her dying mother. An admirable decision, but one that worried him. Mostly because it put her in close proximity to their mutual father.

Nigel Gilmore looked and sounded like a British diplomat. But he was also a brute with a temper. He was a man who enjoyed hitting women. Kipling had been saved by both his gender and his quickness. Early on, he’d learned how to duck. But Shelby and her mother weren’t so lucky. Kipling didn’t understand why some women stayed with men who beat them. He’d protected Shelby as best he could. His leap to the top of the pack had meant endorsement deals and money to pay for Shelby’s college. They’d vowed to never go back home.

But that had changed a few months ago when Shelby’s mother had been diagnosed with stage four ovarian cancer. She was in the last stages of her life and Shelby had wanted to be with her. Unfortunately that meant facing Nigel.

He didn’t like that he was half a world away from the small Colorado town where he’d grown up. He liked it even less that Shelby was there on her own.

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