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Katie’s fingers slid through his hair, and she fought the urge to cry out as his teeth tugged and pulled and one of his hands pushed her dress past her ribs to her waist. She was breathing fast and hard, her body quivering inside.
“Katie,” he whispered, his voice rough as he lifted his head. “I—”
“Shh.”
“Oh, hell.” The muscles of his face tightened as he battled between good intentions and self-control. “I—I think we should stop. While I still can.”
Disappointment welled inside her as he gently pulled the dress back up and over her breasts. His gaze, still bright with passion, touched hers. “I’ll be in the living room.”
She fought the urge to mew in protest, to beg him to finish what he’d started, to make love to her all night long, and she watched in fascination as he straightened, turned his back to her and, with long, swift strides, crossed the room and closed the bedroom door behind him.
Hot tears starred her lashes. Whether the tears were from embarrassment, regret or just plain frustration, she didn’t know or care to analyze. She slapped them away with her fingers and told herself she was every kind of fool known to womankind. What had she been thinking, letting this man—this virtual stranger—into her home, into her bedroom and darned close to into her bed? “Oh, Kinkaid, you’re really losing it,” she chided herself, then decided not to dwell on what had happened between them. He was here, on the couch, presumably to help her, and that, as they said, was that.
She pulled off her dress, hung it haphazardly on a hanger, then tossed her favorite nightgown over her head. She needed to wash her face, but that would mean walking into the hallway. “So what?” she growled under her breath. Just because Luke was in the house didn’t mean she couldn’t do what she had to do. The man wasn’t going to intimidate her, for goodness’ sake! This was her house. Her life. She snagged her bathrobe from a hook on the closet door, flung her arms into the sleeves and cinched the belt snugly around her waist. She crossed the hall, slipped into the bathroom and went through her nightly ablutions with one ear cocked to the door.
Luke didn’t disturb her. A few minutes later she crawled into bed, pulled the covers to her neck and wondered how she’d get one second of sleep knowing that he was just down the hall. Blue, who had padded into the room when she was in the bathroom, circled and dropped into a sleeping position at the foot of her bed. “Good dog,” she said around a yawn, and he thumped his tail. Sighing, she closed her eyes, and the exhaustion of the day took hold. She was asleep within minutes.
* * *
A sharp pain in his neck drove Luke to consciousness. He blinked, focusing on the small living room, and realized he was in Katie’s house.
The smell of coffee drifted from the kitchen, and as he lifted his head, Katie, her hair wound into a knot atop her head, her face scrubbed free of makeup, peeked around the corner.
“Good morning,” she said, her eyes sparkling in the dawn light.
“Mornin’.”
“Some bodyguard you turned out to be.” She giggled, and he should have felt irritated by her ribbing, but he managed a thin smile.
“You’re safe, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s because of you.”
“Well, then, you’re wrong. I chased away all sorts of evil types last night.”
“Did you?” She laughed and ducked back into the kitchen as some bell rang.
He got up from the couch, rubbed the kinks out of his neck and back, then ambled into the kitchen where she was busy tossing slices of bread into an ancient toaster.
“Breakfast?” Katie asked him.
“You don’t have to—”
“No trouble,” she insisted with a lift of one shoulder. “Consider it payment for protecting me. Ham and eggs okay?”
She didn’t know that he’d stayed awake until dawn, only falling asleep when he’d felt certain that there was no one skulking in the night to threaten her. “Great.” He couldn’t help noticing the long, graceful arch of her neck, the feminine slope of her shoulders and the nip of her waist where her robe was tied. Beneath the soft velour fabric her hips shifted as she twisted to look at him.
Her eyes caught his for a second, and she blushed, a fetching pink hue that climbed her throat and colored her cheeks. In a flash, he was reminded of kissing her breasts. He’d thought of little else all night and had fought the urge to return to her bedroom, press his lips to hers until she couldn’t protest and make love to her over and over again. His crotch tightened. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to step through the shower.”
She hesitated for a second, then said, “Sure. There’re extra towels in the hall closet.”
“Thanks.” In less than two minutes he was under the spray of the showerhead, silently damning himself for his wayward thoughts and the hardness in his crotch. What was wrong with him? Every time he looked at Katie Kinkaid, he wanted to start kissing her and never stop.
It had been just too long since he’d been with a woman. Way too long. He let the hot water work out the kinks in his muscles, washed as best he could, toweled off and dressed. As he opened the bathroom door, he heard Katie’s voice.
“I know it’s tough, especially for you, but it’s something we all have to face, Tiff. Whether you like it or not, John’s your father, and you have to deal with him. Just like I do.” There was a pause, then she added, “Yeah, I know. Okay, I’ll start moving stuff over in a few days. I’ve still got Dad—er, John’s Jeep. The convertible is officially dead. Len at the gas station is going to try and sell it or scrap it out, and I’ll find something else soon. But while I’ve got John’s rig, I may as well start moving.” There was a short pause, then she added, “Just let Josh know that I’ll pick him up by noon. Thanks again.”
She was replacing the receiver when he entered the kitchen. Her face was drawn in concentration until she saw him and grinned. “Well, well, Mr. Gates,” she teased, “don’t you clean up nice.”
