Read Online The Good, the Bad and the Wild by Heidi Rice - Free Book Online
Authors: Heidi Rice
Ads: Link
refused to stop bouncing around in his head like hyperactive sheep.
How had a woman as passionate as Eva stayed a virgin for so long? And why had she? And why the hell had she picked him, of all people, to be her first? A guy who’d left innocent behind a lifetime ago.
Easing his arm out from under her shoulders, he rolled away from her onto his side.
The answers didn’t concern him. They didn’t matter. He shouldn’t even be asking the questions. Just as he’d told her—and she’d agreed—those were her choices, not his. But somehow, he couldn’t stop the questions from circling like buzzards, and pecking away at his certainty.
He stared at the early morning light shiningon the ugly antique dresser he’d inherited when he bought the apartment two years ago. He should wake her up. Call her a cab. He had to be up in a couple of hours, had to get the first draft of the script he was working on finished this week if he was going to meet the production deadline. But somehow he hadn’t been able to find the will to do it while her soft, scented body was curled so trustingly by his side.
For some strange, inexplicable reason, he’d wanted to keep her with him. For tonight.
He shut his eyes, felt the tired, gritty texture on the lids that signalled insomnia. Willing himself to ignore the murmur of her breathing and the aroma of spring flowers and talcum powder that teased his nostrils, his brain finally began to unwind, and the erection to soften.
As he fell into a fitful sleep he promised himself he would hustle her out first thing in the morning no matter how soft and tempting she looked in his bed. This was physical attraction. Pure and simple. All he had to do was control it, the way he’d been doing for years.
And he wasn’t going to ask a single one of those damn questions either.
Those were her choices. Her business. And nothing whatsoever to do with him.
CHAPTER SIX
N ICK rolled his shoulders to ease out the kinks, and tried to persuade himself the freezing shower had refreshed him. Grabbing a pair of old sweatpants and a UCLA T-shirt out of the dresser, he slipped them on, his eyes fixed on the woman still curled on his bed.
He felt the familiar tightening in his groin. The sunlight streaming through the window gave her pale skin a soft glow and cast a halo of light over the curls of hair mussed around her cheek. She looked cuter than a Botticelli angel. His gaze dipped to the sliver of cleavage visible above the lapels of the robe she’d slept in. An exceptionally sexy Botticelli angel.
He pushed the drawer shut, a little too heavily, and steeled himself against the tinge of guilt when her eyes fluttered open.
It was nearly eleven. He needed to get going. He had a lot to do today. Especially if he was going to meet her for that appointment he’d promised. Which, now he thought about it, hewished he hadn’t. Seeing her again probably wasn’t the smartest idea.
She scrambled upright, her dazed expression finally focusing on him. The robe fell off one shoulder and she clutched the lapels together, covering herself too late to stop the shot of arousal hitting his crotch. He shoved his hands into the pockets of the sweatpants.
She pushed the hair out of her face with an unsteady hand. ‘I-I’m sorry, I overslept,’ she stammered, her voice smoky with sleep. ‘I should…’ She glanced around, disorientated. ‘I should get going.’
The apologetic tone kicked off his temper—which wasn’t in the best of conditions anyway. He’d had a total of four hours’ sleep and his body still seemed to have a mind of its own, despite the ice-cold shower he’d treated it to. ‘Stop apologising.’
‘I’m sorry?’
He propped his butt against the dresser, braced his hands against the surface as he studied her. ‘You just did it again.’
‘Did what?’ she asked, chewing on her full bottom lip, and making him want to chew on it too.
‘Said sorry.’
‘Oh, yes, I see. I’m sor—’ She stopped.
‘See what
How had a woman as passionate as Eva stayed a virgin for so long? And why had she? And why the hell had she picked him, of all people, to be her first? A guy who’d left innocent behind a lifetime ago.
Easing his arm out from under her shoulders, he rolled away from her onto his side.
The answers didn’t concern him. They didn’t matter. He shouldn’t even be asking the questions. Just as he’d told her—and she’d agreed—those were her choices, not his. But somehow, he couldn’t stop the questions from circling like buzzards, and pecking away at his certainty.
He stared at the early morning light shiningon the ugly antique dresser he’d inherited when he bought the apartment two years ago. He should wake her up. Call her a cab. He had to be up in a couple of hours, had to get the first draft of the script he was working on finished this week if he was going to meet the production deadline. But somehow he hadn’t been able to find the will to do it while her soft, scented body was curled so trustingly by his side.
For some strange, inexplicable reason, he’d wanted to keep her with him. For tonight.
He shut his eyes, felt the tired, gritty texture on the lids that signalled insomnia. Willing himself to ignore the murmur of her breathing and the aroma of spring flowers and talcum powder that teased his nostrils, his brain finally began to unwind, and the erection to soften.
As he fell into a fitful sleep he promised himself he would hustle her out first thing in the morning no matter how soft and tempting she looked in his bed. This was physical attraction. Pure and simple. All he had to do was control it, the way he’d been doing for years.
And he wasn’t going to ask a single one of those damn questions either.
Those were her choices. Her business. And nothing whatsoever to do with him.
CHAPTER SIX
N ICK rolled his shoulders to ease out the kinks, and tried to persuade himself the freezing shower had refreshed him. Grabbing a pair of old sweatpants and a UCLA T-shirt out of the dresser, he slipped them on, his eyes fixed on the woman still curled on his bed.
He felt the familiar tightening in his groin. The sunlight streaming through the window gave her pale skin a soft glow and cast a halo of light over the curls of hair mussed around her cheek. She looked cuter than a Botticelli angel. His gaze dipped to the sliver of cleavage visible above the lapels of the robe she’d slept in. An exceptionally sexy Botticelli angel.
He pushed the drawer shut, a little too heavily, and steeled himself against the tinge of guilt when her eyes fluttered open.
It was nearly eleven. He needed to get going. He had a lot to do today. Especially if he was going to meet her for that appointment he’d promised. Which, now he thought about it, hewished he hadn’t. Seeing her again probably wasn’t the smartest idea.
She scrambled upright, her dazed expression finally focusing on him. The robe fell off one shoulder and she clutched the lapels together, covering herself too late to stop the shot of arousal hitting his crotch. He shoved his hands into the pockets of the sweatpants.
She pushed the hair out of her face with an unsteady hand. ‘I-I’m sorry, I overslept,’ she stammered, her voice smoky with sleep. ‘I should…’ She glanced around, disorientated. ‘I should get going.’
The apologetic tone kicked off his temper—which wasn’t in the best of conditions anyway. He’d had a total of four hours’ sleep and his body still seemed to have a mind of its own, despite the ice-cold shower he’d treated it to. ‘Stop apologising.’
‘I’m sorry?’
He propped his butt against the dresser, braced his hands against the surface as he studied her. ‘You just did it again.’
‘Did what?’ she asked, chewing on her full bottom lip, and making him want to chew on it too.
‘Said sorry.’
‘Oh, yes, I see. I’m sor—’ She stopped.
‘See what
Similar Books
