hostile foreign country. She was home, she was safe, and she was suddenly extremely, painfully aware of just how much she wanted to feel his arms around her again. But that was a terrible idea, and she knew exactly how to stop it.
She walked out of the steam-filled bathroom to find him sitting at the desk, just like he had been when she’d come out of the hotel bathroom in Africa. That hadn’t gone particularly well, but she shoved those disconcerting thoughts aside.
She could do this. She’d bluffed her way through awkward situations with men before, just never this kind of situation. And absolutely never with a man she was so attracted to. Her balancing act tended to fall apart around Bryan. She had to keep a grip on her emotions to shut this down. No matter what happened, she had to stay in control.
He was plugging in his cell phone. When he looked up, his focus zeroed in on her chest. His sigh was one of resignation. “Is that how you see yourself?”
“How I see what?”
“Your shirt.” His voice was low and strained.
She knew what was written on the shirt. She’d bought it as part of her “Bryan re-balancing” plan, and because it had been on sale for $2.99. Suddenly this didn’t feel like such a good idea, but more like the straw that was going to break the camel’s back, or in this case Bryan’s resistance.
She could see it in the set of his jaw and in the way his eyes burned a hole through her. She was drowning in nervousness, and her thought with the nightshirt seemed foolish now, with its holly leaves, flirty length, and cursive message: I’m on Santa’s Naughty List. After five minutes with me, you’ll be on it, too.
S TARING AT S ASSY in her red cotton sleepshirt, Bryan’s temperature rose. A pricking sensation of sweat tingled at his hairline as he stood up, towering over her. The thin material outlined her breasts perfectly, leaving very little to his imagination. As if he needed any help at this point.
He’d been imagining what it would be like to have her naked and underneath him since she’d been draped across his lap in the hotel in Constantine. Even though that wasn’t going to happen again, he’d thought he could handle one more platonic night together.
Wrong, wrong, wrong.
She took a step back, finally recognizing that he was not in a mood to be joked with.
Yep, that’s right. You can’t taunt me for days on end and expect I won’t react.
She stared at him from a few feet away, daring him with a cool disdain—just as she’d been doing for the past six months. “It’s only a joke,” she whispered.
He shook his head and balled his fists to keep from pulling her to him. “No, it’s not. Not tonight. Why do you do that?”
“Why do I do what?” But she eased back another step as she said it.
He pointed to the shirt and forced himself not to move toward her; otherwise, he was going to do something he’d regret.
“Do I bother you?” She smiled slyly.
He studied her face, knowing she could see exactly what he was feeling. Exactly what she did to him. “Yes, you do.”
“Why do I bother you?” she asked.
“You know the answer to that.” His voice was tight, and he was clenching his jaw so hard he had to be grinding the enamel off his molars.
“Oh, but I like to hear you say it.”
“Sassy, you already know I want you. This just makes the situation harder.” He gave up and walked toward her.
She raised an eyebrow and glanced down the length of him. “Harder?”
He shook his head. “Don’t do this.”
He heard her swallow. “Do what? Isn’t that the problem? We’re not doing anything.” Her voice didn’t hold the teasing scorn he would have expected with those particular words.
He was standing so close he could feel her body heat. He could smell her, too. The lotion she’d bought at the drugstore combined with the scent that was uniquely hers to make him crazy. He was losing the battle here. He wanted to kiss her more than he
She walked out of the steam-filled bathroom to find him sitting at the desk, just like he had been when she’d come out of the hotel bathroom in Africa. That hadn’t gone particularly well, but she shoved those disconcerting thoughts aside.
She could do this. She’d bluffed her way through awkward situations with men before, just never this kind of situation. And absolutely never with a man she was so attracted to. Her balancing act tended to fall apart around Bryan. She had to keep a grip on her emotions to shut this down. No matter what happened, she had to stay in control.
He was plugging in his cell phone. When he looked up, his focus zeroed in on her chest. His sigh was one of resignation. “Is that how you see yourself?”
“How I see what?”
“Your shirt.” His voice was low and strained.
She knew what was written on the shirt. She’d bought it as part of her “Bryan re-balancing” plan, and because it had been on sale for $2.99. Suddenly this didn’t feel like such a good idea, but more like the straw that was going to break the camel’s back, or in this case Bryan’s resistance.
She could see it in the set of his jaw and in the way his eyes burned a hole through her. She was drowning in nervousness, and her thought with the nightshirt seemed foolish now, with its holly leaves, flirty length, and cursive message: I’m on Santa’s Naughty List. After five minutes with me, you’ll be on it, too.
S TARING AT S ASSY in her red cotton sleepshirt, Bryan’s temperature rose. A pricking sensation of sweat tingled at his hairline as he stood up, towering over her. The thin material outlined her breasts perfectly, leaving very little to his imagination. As if he needed any help at this point.
He’d been imagining what it would be like to have her naked and underneath him since she’d been draped across his lap in the hotel in Constantine. Even though that wasn’t going to happen again, he’d thought he could handle one more platonic night together.
Wrong, wrong, wrong.
She took a step back, finally recognizing that he was not in a mood to be joked with.
Yep, that’s right. You can’t taunt me for days on end and expect I won’t react.
She stared at him from a few feet away, daring him with a cool disdain—just as she’d been doing for the past six months. “It’s only a joke,” she whispered.
He shook his head and balled his fists to keep from pulling her to him. “No, it’s not. Not tonight. Why do you do that?”
“Why do I do what?” But she eased back another step as she said it.
He pointed to the shirt and forced himself not to move toward her; otherwise, he was going to do something he’d regret.
“Do I bother you?” She smiled slyly.
He studied her face, knowing she could see exactly what he was feeling. Exactly what she did to him. “Yes, you do.”
“Why do I bother you?” she asked.
“You know the answer to that.” His voice was tight, and he was clenching his jaw so hard he had to be grinding the enamel off his molars.
“Oh, but I like to hear you say it.”
“Sassy, you already know I want you. This just makes the situation harder.” He gave up and walked toward her.
She raised an eyebrow and glanced down the length of him. “Harder?”
He shook his head. “Don’t do this.”
He heard her swallow. “Do what? Isn’t that the problem? We’re not doing anything.” Her voice didn’t hold the teasing scorn he would have expected with those particular words.
He was standing so close he could feel her body heat. He could smell her, too. The lotion she’d bought at the drugstore combined with the scent that was uniquely hers to make him crazy. He was losing the battle here. He wanted to kiss her more than he
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