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Swinger Stories
The Truth About Scorpios
The first thing Rhianna did after unpacking was to head for the hotel bar. It
had been an exhausting drive up from London. The least the company could do was
to turn a blind eye to a few extras on her expense account.
The place was more crowded than she'd expected it be. Her delegates weren't due
to arrive until the following morning. But the room was filled with unfamiliar
faces and bodies in vivid, unconventional clothes.
As she stood waiting at the bar, she gradually became aware of the man standing
with his back to her. The dark hair was almost shoulder length but she was sure
it was a man. The narrowness of the tight hips that lurked under the bright,
baggy patchwork trousers so maddeningly close to hers, the faintest brush could
seem like an accident . . . Rhianna drew breath sharply. Never before had she
felt that reckless stab of desire for a total stranger.
And then he turned to look at her. Coolly and directly as if he knew she'd been
watching him. The blue of his eyes was pure acetylene. Then a slight smile
played on his lips and he turned away again.
"Excuse me," she began uncertainly. "You're not one of the people on my
marketing seminar, are you?"
He turned and smiled curiously at her again. As she waited for his answer, a
peculiar scent seemed to loosen itself from his clothes and seek her out.
Subtle, spicy, exotic, a world away from the expensive, cloying aftershave of
men she mixed with every day. Vaguely, she thought it must be incense. She took
a deep, deep breath as the scent swarmed into her, tingling in her nostrils and
quickening her pulse as it went. She'd never imagined that even the lungs could
be an erogenous zone.
"No," he replied eventually. "I'm here for an astrologers' symposium. I'm afraid
we seem to have double-booked the same set of conference rooms.
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