“Self-pity doesn’t become you.”
“As far as I can tell, nothing much becomes me, so tough darts. Please move.”
“Are you afraid of the dark?”
“What?” His question caught her so off guard, she stopped trying to move his arm and looked up at him. “No,” she answered, without knowing why.
“Good.”
She heard the click of the flashlight, then the small pantry went dark. What little light reached them from the kitchen was almost completely blocked out by his large body filling the doorway.
“Come here.”
She stood completely still, her brain racing so fast to make something out of the sudden change of events that she couldn’t think at all. “Where?”
He sighed deeply. The next thing she knew she was pulled against his chest, her nose buried in the middle of the damp T-shirt stretched across the rock-hard wall of muscle.
Startled, she stood stock-still. He leaned against the door and pulled her closer against him with a brawny arm around her waist. His other hand dropped to her hair, thick fingers weaving throughit until they brushed against her nape. He expertly tucked her cheek into the crook under his arm.
“Put your arms around me,” he whispered.
Assailed with so many sensations she didn’t know where to start cataloging their effect on her, she automatically lifted her arms in compliance, looping them loosely around his lean waist.
“Tighter.”
She squeezed gently. And felt a distinct bulge under the back of his vest. His gun.
It hadn’t occurred to her to wonder why he carried one.
Until now.
Like a life preserver in a storm-tossed sea, she grabbed ahold of that thought and hung on for dear life. “Reese?”
“Hmmm?” His voice was a low rumble. It sounded so good, she almost forgot what she’d been about to ask.
“Since when do evacuation team members carry guns?”
He stiffened, then dropped his arms and shifted away from her. She froze for a moment, her mind still trying to get used to the feel of him in her arms, unable to assimilate why she was suddenly standing alone. Then she stepped back into the pantry, instinctively seeking more space as she sorted through what had just happened between them.
One thing became clear right away. She was lucky she’d come to her senses before he had thechance to make a fool of her again. Or before she beat him to it. Funny how that revelation did next to nothing to make her feel better.
Not only had he become weak, Reese decided as he hobbled over to the counter, he’d become soft as well. And stupid.
What in the hell had he been thinking of back there?
Certainly not his job. Certainly not gaining control of the situation.
No. For one ludicrous moment, he’d wanted to find out just what it was about her that got to him. His eyes certainly weren’t telegraphing the information. So in a moment of weakness, he’d shut off the light and pulled her against him, hoping his other senses would alert him to the problem area.
He’d had the ridiculous notion that once he’d figured out what it was about her that made his mind go blank and his pants grow tight, the problem would end. Knowledge was power. Power enabled control.
He felt rather than heard Jillian behind him. Leaning heavily against the counter, he shifted slightly so he could see her. She was still standing in the pantry doorway. Her small shoulders were squared, her chin lifted, her expression making it clear she was waiting for a response.
And the urge to pull her back into his arms, to feel her soften against him, to know he could throwher as off balance as she did him, was so strong, it took him a moment to remember what her question had been.
Oh yeah. The gun. He shrugged when he’d rather have hit something. “It’s been with me a long time. Can’t seem to leave home without it.”
As tension breakers went, his apparently left much to be desired. Too damn bad. It was the best he could manage.
If she found it so easy to maintain her control, he was
“As far as I can tell, nothing much becomes me, so tough darts. Please move.”
“Are you afraid of the dark?”
“What?” His question caught her so off guard, she stopped trying to move his arm and looked up at him. “No,” she answered, without knowing why.
“Good.”
She heard the click of the flashlight, then the small pantry went dark. What little light reached them from the kitchen was almost completely blocked out by his large body filling the doorway.
“Come here.”
She stood completely still, her brain racing so fast to make something out of the sudden change of events that she couldn’t think at all. “Where?”
He sighed deeply. The next thing she knew she was pulled against his chest, her nose buried in the middle of the damp T-shirt stretched across the rock-hard wall of muscle.
Startled, she stood stock-still. He leaned against the door and pulled her closer against him with a brawny arm around her waist. His other hand dropped to her hair, thick fingers weaving throughit until they brushed against her nape. He expertly tucked her cheek into the crook under his arm.
“Put your arms around me,” he whispered.
Assailed with so many sensations she didn’t know where to start cataloging their effect on her, she automatically lifted her arms in compliance, looping them loosely around his lean waist.
“Tighter.”
She squeezed gently. And felt a distinct bulge under the back of his vest. His gun.
It hadn’t occurred to her to wonder why he carried one.
Until now.
Like a life preserver in a storm-tossed sea, she grabbed ahold of that thought and hung on for dear life. “Reese?”
“Hmmm?” His voice was a low rumble. It sounded so good, she almost forgot what she’d been about to ask.
“Since when do evacuation team members carry guns?”
He stiffened, then dropped his arms and shifted away from her. She froze for a moment, her mind still trying to get used to the feel of him in her arms, unable to assimilate why she was suddenly standing alone. Then she stepped back into the pantry, instinctively seeking more space as she sorted through what had just happened between them.
One thing became clear right away. She was lucky she’d come to her senses before he had thechance to make a fool of her again. Or before she beat him to it. Funny how that revelation did next to nothing to make her feel better.
Not only had he become weak, Reese decided as he hobbled over to the counter, he’d become soft as well. And stupid.
What in the hell had he been thinking of back there?
Certainly not his job. Certainly not gaining control of the situation.
No. For one ludicrous moment, he’d wanted to find out just what it was about her that got to him. His eyes certainly weren’t telegraphing the information. So in a moment of weakness, he’d shut off the light and pulled her against him, hoping his other senses would alert him to the problem area.
He’d had the ridiculous notion that once he’d figured out what it was about her that made his mind go blank and his pants grow tight, the problem would end. Knowledge was power. Power enabled control.
He felt rather than heard Jillian behind him. Leaning heavily against the counter, he shifted slightly so he could see her. She was still standing in the pantry doorway. Her small shoulders were squared, her chin lifted, her expression making it clear she was waiting for a response.
And the urge to pull her back into his arms, to feel her soften against him, to know he could throwher as off balance as she did him, was so strong, it took him a moment to remember what her question had been.
Oh yeah. The gun. He shrugged when he’d rather have hit something. “It’s been with me a long time. Can’t seem to leave home without it.”
As tension breakers went, his apparently left much to be desired. Too damn bad. It was the best he could manage.
If she found it so easy to maintain her control, he was
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