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Chapter Eighteen
Gesturing toward the hallway with the barrel of her weapon, Charli followed to ream him out. She’d tried to sleep but every sound the strange house produced had stopped that from happening. She’d only dozed and the results were that she felt jumpy and mean.
“What in the name of all that’s holy possessed you to come into our room. I was seconds away from blowing the top of your head off.”
“Actually, you were aiming at my heart.”
“Pure semantics, my dear Watson.”
“Aha! Quoting Sherlock Holmes, you can’t be that mad.”
“I never get mad. But I hate things that don’t make sense. You, Watson, you don’t make sense.”
“So you hate me?”
“Now you’re just being an ass. And you’re quibbling… answer my question.”
“I couldn’t sleep and decided to check on you ladies. When I found Kayla missing – trust me – it took a few years off my life. I had to make sure she was with you before calling in the troops, didn’t I?”
“When you put it that way, it makes sense. Okay. I would have done the same.”
“So, does that mean you can put your gun down now?”
Charli’s eyes had settled on his naked chest and for some ungodly reason, her hands wanted to follow, to search those strong lines, the muscles, his nipples, to caress and stroke.Charli, he’s asking you something!“Ahh… pardon me?” The glint in his knowing eyes, his cocky grin and his husky teasing stiffened her resolve and got her mind back on track. “What?”
“Put your gun down. You’re pointing it at me again.”
Sure enough, she now had it aimed right at his groin, and it pleased her to see the cockiness he’d worn a few seconds earlier had disappeared. “Sorry.” She lowered her arm. Realizing her silky pajama top was no cover at all from his prying eyes, she turned to go back inside. “Goodnight.”
“Do they always bounce?”
What?“Does what always bounce?” Her mind in the gutter thinking he was talking about her chest, she itched to aim her weapon once more so he’d start behaving.
“Your golden curls. They bounce.”
Why she turned back to face him, she’d never know.
He reached out and tugged at the one draped over her forehead, the same bunch she constantly had to pin up to keep out of her eyes.
The very gentle way he handled it, kind of like her Poppa John often did when he wanted to make a point and get her to listen; it wrenched her heart from its hidden shelter and left it unprotected, accessible, searching for proof that here was a person it needed to bond with.
Good God, no!
Before she could wrench away, he’d lowered his lips and kissed the golden locks in his fingers. His manly smell filled her nostrils and his body heat titillated her own body to accept, to move closer… to investigate.
Sucking in her breath, she froze. Again, why she didn’t stop his nonsense kept her awake the rest of the night, but the intrigued female entity inside refused to let this moment pass without experiencing it fully.
His nose pushed at the hair on her forehead as he kissed there, too. Then he made his way to her ears while his hands cradled her face. “Charli, girl, I have no idea why, but those curls do things to me, give me very ungentlemanly feelings. So, before we both end up in that empty bedroom Kayla abandoned, I believe you need to stop me now.”
She didn’t move, couldn’t. His voice had put her in a trance. The husky, sexy tones had her quaking with needs she’d kept tamped down for a very long time.
He moaned. His lips moved to hers and were descending, his hot breath close while the sweep of his long eyelashes brushed her cheek. For just a second, she savored the feel of his soft mouth against hers, and then she lifted the gun and dug it into his side.
He backed off, her message clear. But his husky muttering left her shaken to the core, “Oh, baby, you know you’re gonna be mine.”
