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He picked up a sheer nightgown worked with intricate beading. The pale pink garment slipped through his fingers like cool water.
"Got it," Megan said triumphantly. She held up a key, then dropped to her knees and opened the box. After digging around for several seconds, she pulled out something small, then started to stand up.
Their eyes met. If he'd thought she'd blushed before when he'd said his mother wasn't a whore, he'd been mistaken. The color that flooded her face, climbing from her collar to the roots of her hair in less than a heartbeat, was vivid tomato red. Her almond-shaped eves widened.
"W-what are you doing here?" she asked. She sounded on the verge of choking.
"What are you doing with this?" He held up the nightgown.
"I—I... I—I..." She cleared her throat. "I don't have to explain that to you. This is my bedroom and I'll ask you to leave. Right now."
He didn't budge. "Megan, I admit I'm stunned. French lace and silk? No one knows, do they?"
She rose to her feet. "My undergarments are not your concern, Mr. Kincaid. Now, leave my room immediately."
His gaze dipped to her bodice, then lower. "You're wearing something like this right now, aren't you?" He smiled. "I'm impressed."
"Justin!" He slowly released the nightgown, letting it
slide sensuously through his fingers. She stepped around the
bed and grabbed his arm. "I can't believe you are this rude.
, How dare you come into my private room and fondle my
personal things? Have you no manners? No decency?"
"No," he admitted happily. "None. Apparently, neither do you. I would take a guess that the ever-moral Colleen knows nothing about your wicked indulgence."
She hustled him out of the bedroom and closed the door.
on
them
any business of yours."
Most of her blush had faded, leaving only a red splotch on each cheek. She was shaking. He could feel it where her hand held his arm.
"Lying is useless," he said. "I've already told you, you're not good at it. Besides,'' he added, stepping closer and touching her chin. "I like knowing you're hiding silk and lace under that very respectable dress."
Her skin was silk, he thought as his fingers traced a line from her chin to the sensitive spot under her ear. She shivered delicately. And her mouth...
He swallowed. "Damn you, Megan. Were you always this much temptation?"
Her lips parted as her breathing increased. Her hazel eyes darkened to the deep gray of an approaching storm.
"I think so," she whispered.
He lowered his mouth to hers. "I think you're right."
Chapter Seven
JVLegan braced herself for his tender touch. A fleeting thought warned her she should push him away while she still had a scrap of common sense. She knew it was foolish to kiss Justin. It would get her into trouble somehow. It always had.
If she lived to be a hundred, she would never forget the sight of him as a young man. Or the memory of him standing in her bedroom holding her unmentionables. She was humiliated and ashamed and incredibly...
His lips pressed against her. It was as if a strong gust blew through her mind, scattering her thoughts to the four winds. Her fingers curled into her palms. In her left hand she felt the object she'd come upstairs to find. She slipped it into her skirt pocket, then reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck.
She was a lady. She should be retiring and coy, holding back in fear of a man's animal nature. She should play the reluctant virgin. But this was Justin and she'd never been able to do what she should around him.
As he pressed harder against her mouth, she raised herself on her toes, molding her body to his. She needed him to hold her this night. Perhaps it was her argument with Colleen that made her weak. Or the past. Or maybe it was because she was starting to think she might be more like Justin than she'd been willing to admit.
She slipped her hands down the length of his arms, then up again, savoring the heat of him and the smoothness of his woolen shirt. She squeezed his shoulders, then moved lower,
down his chest. She rubbed small circles across his broadness and wrapped her arms around his waist.
He groaned low in his throat. Contentment filled her. She still affected him. Whatever had happened in the seven years he'd been gone, she still had the power to move him to passion.
