And she could be exactly what he’d been searching for—a woman who shared his passions, but would walk away in the morning. No matter how hard it was. She loved him that much.
“Miranda, you don’t know what you’re saying,” Noah said, obviously trying to gain control of the situation. “You’re not a love-’em-and-leave-’em kind of girl.”
“No, Noah, I’m not. I’m not a girl at all—good or otherwise. I’m a woman who’s pretty damn certain of what I want.” She moved over to rub her head against his chest. “All I’m asking for is one night, maybe two. You, me—” the sound of her voice, so throaty, deep and insistent, lured him to relax “—and the storm.”
She pushed the gossamer fabric aside, peeling it away from her body like a layer of translucent skin. Then she reached out and cupped his chin, splaying her fingers along his cheek before combing them through his hair. “Sometimes, Noah, good girls do.” Raising herself on her knees, Miranda leaned forward and buried her lips in his neck. “And they do it very well….”