“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Iona spoke behind him in her melodious smoky voice.
“Maybe.” Jackson braced himself to look at her as he turned.
He wasn’t prepared, just as he hadn’t been earlier when he’d first seen her. Her heavily lashed pale gray eyes were offset by her hair—dark brown with streaks of gold—framing her face. The pale gray bridesmaid gown looked so good against her sienna skin. He studied her sculptured cheeks, rounded chin and full lips, wondering how each would feel if he kissed them. He imagined making the trek with kisses from her forehead down all over her face, then stopping against the pulse of her neck before going lower to more soft and lush flesh. He watched her eyes, resisting the urge to touch the curls flowing around her face to rest just below her breasts.
“You look really spiffy.” Iona touched along the one side of his unbuttoned shirt.
“If I didn’t know better, I would think you were flirting with me, Iona.” Jackson smirked. “Better be careful before rumors start about us.”
“Rumors could become fact.” Iona pulled out a piece of paper from her purse then slid it into the pocket on the left side of his chest. “Text me and let me know if this works for you.” She winked then turned and sauntered off.
Jackson stared at the sensual sway of her ass as she walked away from him. When she disappeared into the crowd of people, Jackson pulled out the paper and looked at it.
Meet me at Lena’s for brunch at 11 a.m. tomorrow. —Iona
Jackson gazed after her as he pulled out his cell. He sent her a confirmation to accept the invitation. He put his phone away and wondered what had happened to his plan to keep away from Iona.
“It’s her eyes. The no-nonsense look she gives you that makes you feel she can see all you are,” Jackson muttered.
He slid the paper back in his pocket.
Copyright © McKenna Jeffries, 2014.
All Rights Reserved, Totally Bound.