loving valentine by adrianne byrd

This was no mirage.
The long walk beneath the blistering Texas sun had edged Matthew close to insanity. He'd lost count of how many times objects appeared closer than they really were or weren't even there at all, which was why he was certain that the curvaceous woman in a adorable pink-and-white outfit was nothing more than a beautiful mirage.
However, the sweetness of her lips and the magic of her tongue meant that either he'd died and gone to heaven or the woman in his arms was real.
Though her lips were pillow soft and her mouth intoxicatingly sweet, the kiss was hot enough to turn his blood into a fiery river of hot lava. Her light, flowery scent drugged his senses and when a breathy sigh escaped her lips, Matthew's body tightened in response.
His dream woman gently placed her hand against his chest, and he knew that she could feel his hammering heart. He deepened the kiss and ran the tip of his tongue along the seam of her lips. Her lips opened wider.
* * *
Chanté groaned as her body melted against the handsome man's. Without thought, her arms slid up and around his neck, but then, slowly, reason crept back into her mind. What in the hell was she doing kissing a complete stranger?
Reluctant, but with a great deal of willpower, she broke the kiss and sucked in a deep, ragged breath.
"What in the hell do you think you're doing?" she asked, her chest heaving from the effort.
"The same thing you're doing." He leaned forward. "And I want to do it again."
Chanté curved her back and pressed her hands against his chest in an attempt to avoid another taste of his addictive lips. "Get your hands off of me. I don't know you."
One final shove and Chanté won her freedom. Escaping into Sam's café, she crashed into a deafening wall of silence and was surrounded by wide eyes and gaping mouths.
"Hell, what does a guy have to do to get a kiss like that?" Earl asked, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth as if preparing himself for the possibility.
"Down, boy." Chanté rolled her eyes.
"Hey!" Her mysterious kissing stranger bolted in behind her and then sighed dreamily. "Thank God. Air-conditioning."
Chanté shook her head.
"Wait. I didn't even catch your name," he called after her.
"What?" Rufus adjusted the bill of his trucker cap. "You two don't even know each other?"
"Actually, I'm just sort of passing through. I was on my way to a conference in Killeen, but my rental car broke down on the highway a few miles back. Is there a phone around here?"
Chanté turned to him. "This is a café, not AT&T."
Those full lips widened within the frame of his groomed goatee. "Well, I haven't tasted the food, but this place certainly knows how to make a guest feel welcome."
He jutted out his hand. "Dr. Matthew Valentine. And you are?"
She opened her mouth to tell him it was none of his business when everyone at the lunch counter answered for her.
"Chanté Morris," they chanted.
Matthew's mouth sloped into an uneven smile. "A beautiful name for a beautiful woman."
"Oh, he's smooth," Rufus whispered.
"Order up!" Sam shouted. "That is, if you're finished 'greeting' our guest."
Everyone laughed. Everyone except Chanté.
"Not funny." Chanté stomped behind the counter, giving up any hope of trying to study.
"So what kind of doctor are you? Some kind of 'love' doctor, Dr. Valentine?" Earl chuckled and his fellow yahoos joined in.
Matthew moved to a vacant stool at the lunch counter. "Actually, that's pretty close. I'm a relationship therapist."
Chanté's interest perked.
"Hey, Chanté," Henry piped up. "Ain't that what you're going to school for?"
"Shut up, Henry," she warned.
"So what does a man have to do to get a drink around here?" Matthew asked. "Water, preferably. A jug if you have it."
Chanté poured his glass of water. "Twenty-five cents."
"For water?"
"Need I remind you again that this is a business?"
* * *
Matthew's pulse quickened. Judging by the fire in her eyes, Chanté could take him in any boxing ring…and win. "Look, there's no need to beat yourself up because you're attracted to me."
"What? I'm not— Just because I kissed— You don't know what you're talking about."
Matthew smiled and reached for his glass.
Chanté moved it away from his reach. "Twenty-five cents."
"Oooh," the men at the lunch counter chorused.
Still smiling, Matthew reached for his wallet and removed a hundred dollar bill. "This should cover the water…and that wonderful greeting."
"Aaah," the counter of spectators responded.
Without warning, the gorgeous waitress drenched him with the icy water. "On the house."
This time all the patrons in the café exploded with laughter.
"Actually, that was quite *******ing," he admitted. "May I have another? This time, if it could remain in the glass, I'd appreciate it."
"Chanté!" the cook shouted.
Matthew reached for the silver napkin dispenser when he noticed a stack of twenties on the counter. "What's this?" he asked the men next to him.
"Oh, we have ourselves a friendly little bet going on who'll win Chanté's heart."
"Is that right?" Matthew cut a gaze over at Chanté, who was being berated by the cook. Matthew picked up his soaking wet hundred dollar bill and placed it on top of the stack of twenties. "I'll take a piece of that action."

Any objection? The question floated around Chanté's head and in the very back of her brain came a shout of yes, but she quickly snuffed it out. "No," she answered in a breathless whisper.
She wanted another kiss—needed it, in fact. She hoped that it would be as wonderful as the first.
Her eyes drifted closed the moment his lips pressed against hers. Instantly, she was lost in a slow, deep, melting kiss that wiped her brain clean of all rational thought.
This kiss was better than the first.
* * *
This kiss—the touch of her hand, her tongue's silky caress and the way her curves fit against his body—confirmed what Matthew had suspected: he'd found his true soul mate. No doubt she could feel the strain of his arousal and knew that he had more on his mind than a moonlight kiss.
Suddenly Chanté broke away and panted, "I'd better go."
"What…?"
Chanté rummaged through her purse to find her car keys. "Look, I can just imagine what you must think of me, and I probably could never convince you that I don't just roam around kissing strangers, but—"
"No. No." Matthew rushed over to her as she opened her car door. "I—I don't think badly of you. I think you're wonderful."
Chanté lifted an inquisitive brow. "Maybe I should be asking whether you make a habit of shoving your tongue down strange women's throats."
"What? Me? No."
She lifted her second brow dubiously. "So I was your first?"
"As a matter of fact you were." He leaned against the car.
She studied him. "I'm tempted to believe you."
"You should." His confidence returned, and he smiled. "There was just something about you."
Chanté rolled her eyes. "I've had a long day." She slid in behind the wheel. "Good night." She reached to close the door, but Matthew held on to it.
"Wait. Don't go."
"Look, Dr. Valentine. Whatever you're selling, I'm not interested. I work forty hours a week in a grease trap while trying to put myself through a school I should have gone to ten years ago. But I was like most women in this town and thought I just wanted to get married and have children. Then one day I realized that's not at all what I want. I want more and now I have a small window of opportunity to actually do something with my life, and I don't plan to screw that up. I have to work, and I have to work hard, just to catch up."
Matthew met her determined gaze and was more than a little turned on by her passion. With only the best of intentions he said, "Maybe I can help. Maybe I can take you away from all of this." He watched in dismay as her eyes narrowed and she climbed back out of the car.
"Is there a For Sale sign stamped on my forehead that I don't know about?"
"Uh, no. I didn't mean to imply that—"
"What? You think you can just blow into town and buy the first girl you come across?"
"Calm down. I didn't mean that the way it came out."
Chanté crossed her arms. "Then how did you mean it to come out?"
"I meant that…well, that I'm a pretty wealthy guy and as my… You know, there's just no way for this to come out right."
"I'm not for sale, Dr. Valentine. And despite living in a poor town, I don't need you to rescue me. I can do that on my own."
"Smart, strong and independent."
"Is that a problem?"
"It's a turn-on."
* * *
Once again, Chanté met his gaze and felt that strange pull in her soul. "Dr. Valentine—"
"Matthew." His smile widened. "I like the way you say my name."
She blushed.
"Now that's definitely a smile I see."
"You're trying to get all charming on me."
"Is it working?"
It was working but she held her tongue. "Matthew," she corrected. "I don't know you—"
"That's why we should go out. So we can get to know each other."
"Let me finish," she said, then took a deep breath during the requested silence. "I don't know you and I don't want to know you."
"Why?" he challenged. "Are you afraid of your feelings?"
Chanté opened her mouth, but Matthew cut her off quickly.
"Are you going to lie and tell me that you don't feel anything when I kiss you?"
That was exactly what she was going to do.
Matthew smiled. "I know I can be pushy—but only when I see something or, in this case, someone I want."
Before she knew it she was back in his arms without resistance. Moaning against his lips, Chanté accepted his probing tongue with an eagerness that surprised even her.
Matthew stroked a hand down the length of her body, slipped it beneath her pink cotton top and trailed his fingers across her soft skin.
Unable—unwilling—to stop him or herself, Chanté moaned again and pressed closer to him. Matthew continued his lazy exploration until he cupped a firm breast and gave it a gentle squeeze.
"Admit it," he said, breaking the kiss but forging a trail of smaller ones near her left ear. "You're attracted to me."
"I—I'm…"
"And you want to get to know me better." He nibbled on her ear.
Quivering and unable to speak, she nodded.
Matthew lifted his head and gazed down into her clear brown eyes. "You know this is just the beginning. I can make you feel so much more," he said. "Come back to my hotel. Stay the night."