Read Sullivan's Woman for Free Online

Higgin to take it. Dupres won’t haggle and he’s fair. Anything else?” There was a simple dismissal in the words. Cassidy watched Gail’s eyes flare.
    â€œNothing that can’t wait. I’ll go give Higgin a call.”
    â€œFine.” Colin turned back to Cassidy before Gail was halfway across the room. He was frowning at her hair as he pushed it back from her face. Over his shoulder, Cassidy watched Gail’s glance dart back when she reached the door. Gail shut it firmly behind her. Colin stepped away and scanned Cassidy from head to toe.
    â€œIt won’t do,” he announced and scowled. “It won’t do at all.”
    Confused by his statement, shaken by what she had recognized in Gail’s eyes, Cassidy stared at him, then ran her fingers through her hair. “What won’t?”
    â€œThat business you have on.” He made a gesture with his hand, a quick flick of the wrist, which encompassed her blouse and jeans and sandals.
    Cassidy looked down and ran her palms over her hips. “You didn’t specify how I should dress, and in any case I hadn’t decided to sit for you.” She shrugged her shoulders, annoyed with herself for feeling compelled to justify her attire. “You might have given me some details instead of scrawling down the address and bounding off.”
    â€œI want something smooth and flowing; no waist, no interruptions.” He ignored Cassidy’s comments. “Ivory, not white. Something long and sleek.” He took her waist in his hands, which threw her into speechless shock. “You haven’t any hips to speak of, and the waist of a child. I want a high neck so we won’t worry about the lack of cleavage.”
    Blushing furiously, Cassidy slipped down from the stool and pushed him away. “It’s my body, you know. I don’t care for your observations on it or your—your hands on it, either. My cleavage or the lack of it has nothing to do with you.”
    â€œDon’t be a child,” he said briskly and set her back on the stool. “At the moment, your body only interests me artistically. If that changes, you’ll know quickly enough.”
    â€œNow just a minute, Sullivan.” Cassidy slipped off the stool again, tossing back her head as she prepared to put him neatly in his place.
    â€œSpectacular.” He grabbed a handful of her hair to keep her face lifted to his. “Temper becomes you, Cass, but it’s not the mood I’m looking for. Another time, perhaps.” The corners of his mouth lifted as his fingers moved to massage her neck. His smile settled lazily over his face, and though Cassidy suspected the calculation, it was no less effective. She was conscious of his fingers on her skin. The essential physicality of the sensation was novel and intrigued her into silence. This was something new to be explored. His voice lowered into a caress no less potent than the hand on her skin. The faint lilt of Ireland intensified. “It’s an illusion I’m looking for, and a reality. A wish. Can you be a wish for me, Cass?”
    In that moment, with her face inches from his, their bodies just touching, the warmth of his fingers on her skin, Cassidy, felt she could be anything he asked. Nothing was impossible. This was where his power over women lay, she realized: in the quick charm, the piratical features, the light hint of an old country in his speech. Added to this was an undiluted sexuality he turned on at will and an impatience in the set of his shoulders. She knew he was aware of his power and used it shamelessly. Even this was somehow attractive. She felt herself submitting to it, drawn toward it while her emotions overshadowed her intellect. She wondered what his mouth would feel like on hers, and if the kiss would be as exciting as she imagined. Would she lose or find herself? Would she simply experience? As a defense against her own thoughts, she placed her