Read Online Danger Zone by Doreen Owens Malek - Free Book Online
Authors: Doreen Owens Malek
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He kissed her cheek lightly, then turned his head and captured her mouth with his.
This time he pressed her right from the start, pushing her back against the wall and enveloping her with his body. Lowering his head, he dragged his lips across her throat and tongued the hollow between her breasts. Karen arched into him, sinking her fingers in his hair and closing her eyes. She was certain she should stop him, but was unwilling to end the delicious sensation of his hands and mouth on her skin. When he kissed her again, more urgently, she swayed on her feet, clinging to him for support as her defenses dissolved.
“Let’s go inside,” he said huskily, his breath fanning her face. He took her key from her hand.
“No,” she replied, with surprising strength.
“Come on,” he urged in a low tone, caressing her. “You want me.”
She did, but at the instant that she almost gave in she had a sudden image of every other woman he had said the same thing to, women who’d responded to his undeniable allure in the way she was responding now. She knew that he was a womanizer, forced by his inclination as well as his lifestyle to take his pleasure where he found it. And she couldn’t join a list of forgotten conquests. She needed him to remember her, if only because she was the one who got away.
“I want you,” she said quietly, “but I’m not going to bed with you.”
He stared down at her, still breathing hard, his hair mussed by her hands. His gaze was heated, incandescent. Then when he realized she meant it, he sighed heavily and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes.
“I don’t believe this,” he said. “Remember me? I’m the guy who saved you.”
Karen smiled. “As I recall, I already thanked you for that.”
He shook his head, half laughing. “This can’t be happening,” he said. “Women are crazy about me.”
Karen didn’t doubt it. She reached up and touched his cheek. He opened his eyes.
“Can I give you my sister’s address and phone number?” she asked softly.
“Why?” he inquired, studying her, his expression sober now.
“In case you ever feel like you want to talk to somebody.”
“Talk?” he asked.
“Talk.”
She took a slip of paper from her purse and wrote down the information. He folded the sheet in half and stuck it into his breast pocket.
“I have to tell you that ‘talking’ isn’t the reason I usually take a girl’s number,” he said dryly.
“I know that,” Karen replied. “Make an exception in my case.” She felt the sting of tears behind her eyes and was suddenly afraid she was going to cry. “Steven, please take care of yourself.”
“I always do.”
“Who else was it who used to call you Steven?” she asked, delaying his departure. She didn’t want to let him go.
“One of the nuns at the foundling home. She was.. .good to me.”
“Do you ever see her now?”
He shook his head once. “She’s dead.”
Karen put her arms around him and laid her head on his shoulder. “I’ll be thinking about you,” she murmured.
He tucked his hand under her hair, lifting it off her neck. “Don’t think about me, Karen. Go back to New Jersey and get married and have a couple of kids. Years from now I’ll be that guy you kissed on a beach someplace. You probably won’t even remember my name.”
“I’ll remember,” she whispered.
He took hold of her arms and held her off, disengaging her embrace. “Good night, sweetheart,” he said, kissing her forehead.
“Goodbye, Steven.” Karen was blinking rapidly, seeing him through a mist of unshed tears.
“Goodbye.” She watched him walk to the elevator, which responded instantly when he pressed the button. He saluted as he stepped through the doors and she didn’t go into her room until he was out of sight.
Karen sat on the edge of her bed and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Had she done the right thing? She told herself that she had, but already she was regretting her loss.
It was
This time he pressed her right from the start, pushing her back against the wall and enveloping her with his body. Lowering his head, he dragged his lips across her throat and tongued the hollow between her breasts. Karen arched into him, sinking her fingers in his hair and closing her eyes. She was certain she should stop him, but was unwilling to end the delicious sensation of his hands and mouth on her skin. When he kissed her again, more urgently, she swayed on her feet, clinging to him for support as her defenses dissolved.
“Let’s go inside,” he said huskily, his breath fanning her face. He took her key from her hand.
“No,” she replied, with surprising strength.
“Come on,” he urged in a low tone, caressing her. “You want me.”
She did, but at the instant that she almost gave in she had a sudden image of every other woman he had said the same thing to, women who’d responded to his undeniable allure in the way she was responding now. She knew that he was a womanizer, forced by his inclination as well as his lifestyle to take his pleasure where he found it. And she couldn’t join a list of forgotten conquests. She needed him to remember her, if only because she was the one who got away.
“I want you,” she said quietly, “but I’m not going to bed with you.”
He stared down at her, still breathing hard, his hair mussed by her hands. His gaze was heated, incandescent. Then when he realized she meant it, he sighed heavily and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes.
“I don’t believe this,” he said. “Remember me? I’m the guy who saved you.”
Karen smiled. “As I recall, I already thanked you for that.”
He shook his head, half laughing. “This can’t be happening,” he said. “Women are crazy about me.”
Karen didn’t doubt it. She reached up and touched his cheek. He opened his eyes.
“Can I give you my sister’s address and phone number?” she asked softly.
“Why?” he inquired, studying her, his expression sober now.
“In case you ever feel like you want to talk to somebody.”
“Talk?” he asked.
“Talk.”
She took a slip of paper from her purse and wrote down the information. He folded the sheet in half and stuck it into his breast pocket.
“I have to tell you that ‘talking’ isn’t the reason I usually take a girl’s number,” he said dryly.
“I know that,” Karen replied. “Make an exception in my case.” She felt the sting of tears behind her eyes and was suddenly afraid she was going to cry. “Steven, please take care of yourself.”
“I always do.”
“Who else was it who used to call you Steven?” she asked, delaying his departure. She didn’t want to let him go.
“One of the nuns at the foundling home. She was.. .good to me.”
“Do you ever see her now?”
He shook his head once. “She’s dead.”
Karen put her arms around him and laid her head on his shoulder. “I’ll be thinking about you,” she murmured.
He tucked his hand under her hair, lifting it off her neck. “Don’t think about me, Karen. Go back to New Jersey and get married and have a couple of kids. Years from now I’ll be that guy you kissed on a beach someplace. You probably won’t even remember my name.”
“I’ll remember,” she whispered.
He took hold of her arms and held her off, disengaging her embrace. “Good night, sweetheart,” he said, kissing her forehead.
“Goodbye, Steven.” Karen was blinking rapidly, seeing him through a mist of unshed tears.
“Goodbye.” She watched him walk to the elevator, which responded instantly when he pressed the button. He saluted as he stepped through the doors and she didn’t go into her room until he was out of sight.
Karen sat on the edge of her bed and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Had she done the right thing? She told herself that she had, but already she was regretting her loss.
It was
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