Nina looked at him, paralyzed by surprise. Her mind scrambled to find its footing against the sheer, magnetic pull of his presence. The air between them crackled with an intensity that made her skin prickle, every nerve ending suddenly alert. "Mr. Grant, I really don't think this is appropriate…"
Before she could finish, Lucas moved. His large hand wrapped securely around her waist, and with a single, effortless pull, he hauled her across the leather cushions until she was tucked directly against his side, her thighs flush against his. The sudden contact stole the breath from her lungs.
The warmth of his body seeped through the thin fabric of her dress, overwhelming her senses. He leaned down, his mouth brushing the sensitive skin right beneath her ear, and whispered, "What did I say about you calling me that, wifey?"
