A deep inhale was rewarded by the heady
combination of lavender mixed with cinnamon.
“May I?” she whispered.
The breathy request pulled at the muscles in his
stomach. He carefully folded the newspaper in his
hand and tucked it into the seat in front of him.
His gaze blazed a trail up her body as he stood.
She squared her shoulders but remained within
an intimate distance while he stepped around
her body to allow her access into the row. He
extended his hand as an invitation to the seat next
to his. “My pleasure, Miss . . .”
She smiled and slid past him, gently brushing her
fingertips on his jacket sleeve as she moved into
the row. “Dahlia,” she said while settling herself
into the middle seat. Her eyes sparkled through
a thick veil of eyelashes as she glanced up. “And
your name, sir?”
Sandra Bunino began a
love of romance stories
while penning a creative
writing assignment in
high school. The story
ended with the heroine
receiving
a
longstemmed red rose in
her locker on Valentine’s
Day. Since then, all of her
stories feature the hero
presenting the heroine
with roses. Sandra is
constantly
searching
for different ways to
achieve a heart-pumping,
stomach-flipping, breathcatching reaction from
her readers..Visit her at
SandraBunino.com
“Tristan.”
The hint of pine, musk, and pure man tickled her
nose as she drank in the sight of his well-defined
body wrapped handsomely in a dark suit. His red
power tie was like the cherry on top of a decadent
and sinful ice cream sundae. She pegged him for
a financial market tycoon or perhaps a commercial
real estate broker or maybe even a movie
producer. The only thing she knew for sure was it
would be a train ride he’d never forget.
Read the rest of the story here... Please note
this story contains adult content.
January 2014 | 63