“I thought I was doing a sexy smile.”
“If by sexy you mean the kind of smile my Uncle Morty gives me then, by all means, continue.”
His face falls, but he shakes it off and smiles again. “I’m just thinking about all the naughty things I’m going to do to you tonight.”
My brows lift. “Do tell.”
“I think I’d rather keep you in suspense.”
He leans down and drops a kiss on my lips as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. It’s both surprising and pleasing.
“How was that?” he asks with a wink.
I frown. “How was what?”
He leans down to whisper in my ear. “There’s a photographer at ten o’clock.”
I feel my giddiness plummet. I want to pull away, but I know I need to stop being such a moping martyr. Instead, I decide to raise the stakes.
I reach up and pull him down to my lips and moan in satisfaction when I get a hold of his lower lip. I feel him chuckle against my mouth and then his tongue dives in, taking a commanding sweep of me. He pulls back and murmurs, “Trying to steal a sneak peek of what my tongue will be doing to you later?”
I smirk. “Oh God, I hope that’s a promise, Harris.”
“You know it is, Ryan.”
I’m smiling happily as I turn around in his arms to move down the line. He continues holding me from behind as we approach the pod. When I see that the pods don’t stop for us to board, I suddenly get nervous. I stop midstride and Tanner clobbers into me.
“It doesn’t stop,” I answer, fear prickling my scalp. “I don’t think I can do this. I’m scared of heights.”
“Scared of heights? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t know the bloody things don’t stop for us to board! I thought I’d be okay!” This is so not the Tequila Sunrise moment I thought it would be.
He rakes a hand through his hair. “We’ve been in line ages.”
“I’m sorry, all right. Just go without me.” I try to shoo him away.
He scowls. “Don’t be stupid.”
“Don’t be yourself!”
His nostrils flare at my snipe, but I don’t care.
“Fucking hell, come here.” He reaches his hand out toward me.
“Just…trust me, all right? Come here.”
His demand is firm but sincere, so I take his hand. We’re ushered up to the pod while Indie and Cam are still too busy smiling like loons at each other to even notice that I’m in the middle of a full-blown panic attack.
“I don’t know what your plan is, but I’m not going on that thing.” My body is stiff as a board.
“Just keep quiet and trust me, woman,” he growls.
“I don’t think I like your tone.”
“That’s funny. I don’t think I ever like your tone.”
“You know, Tanner, this tone only comes out around you. In everyday life, I’m lovely.”
I turn to see the pod coming closer when Tanner suddenly bends over and scoops me up like a baby.
“Don’t you dare!” I pound a fist on his chest. “You’re going to hurt yourself!”
“I’m going to hurt you if you don’t shut up.” He walks with purpose onto the pod, carrying me in his arms as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. He sets me down just as quickly as he picked me up, and I’m shocked to see I made it on safely.
The pod is bigger than I expected, like the size of a small bedroom. It’s a big round glass ball with a long bench down the middle.
I beam up at him. “I didn’t die.”
He fights a losing battle with his scowl. “You didn’t die.”
“You just hefted me in here like it was your job.”
He rolls his eyes. “You’re pretty much my only job for the next few weeks, so I figured it was up to me to make sure you’ve seen London properly while you have me.”
Dr. Belle Ryan once thought Tanner Harris was the perfect kind of bearded bad boy she needed to relieve a bit of stress after her intense job as a surgical fellow, but an icy cold rejection from London's sluttiest footballer puts the two at each other's throats.
Fate and a favour conspire to put Tanner and Belle back in each other's paths and they're forced to do a lot more than get along to save face and their careers.
Rage turns to passion and tempers run sizzling hot when they realise they aren't just falling for each other--they're jumping head first. And neither have the endurance to keep their hands to themselves.
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