Nick froze, dead in place.
His gaze locked with Georgia's. Those piercing, storm-swept eyes, silvery gray with just the faintest flicker of icy blue. Like a dagger dipped in frost. He was hypnotized.
Then, like a slow, spiraling descent into hell, his eyes drifted down to her nose… and then to her lips.
Parted, breathless, flushed.
'Shit!' he screamed in his mind.
He could feel the ghost of her warm breath fanning across his mouth, and instinct snapped his gaze back to hers, just in time to catch one perfectly arched brow rise in slow, sarcastic judgment.
His confusion must've shown on his face, because what came next slapped harder than the North Sea in winter.
"Maniac!" she declared, ice in her tone.
Nick flinched like she'd slapped him with a frozen fish. "What—?" his hands instantly clenched as anger started to boil his blood at her accusation once again.
That's when he felt it. Something soft. Plush. Very not a pillow or a mattress under his hand.
