Any Man Of Mine: A Waiting Game / A Loving Arrangement. Diana Palmer

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       CHAPTER FOUR

      KEENA FROZE JUST inside the door she’d slammed behind her, gaping at him involuntarily.

      He lifted a dark eyebrow, as unconscious of his nudity as a stag in the forest. “Do come in,” he murmured with a half smile. He laid down the comb and picked up his electric razor. “That bathroom stays fogged up forever,” he commented. He lifted the humming razor to his chin. “I have to do this twice a day or I wouldn’t be able to get it off with sandpaper. Sit down and tell me about your date.”

      “Uh...” she began, her breath catching in her throat. She wasn’t totally innocent. But the looks of a man had never quite affected her this way, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Nicholas. It had never occurred to her that a man could be called beautiful, but he was, his big, muscular body, perfectly sculpted, without a single curve or angle in excess.

      He glanced at her, patient amusement on his face. “If I’m not embarrassed, why should you be?” he asked. “Sit down. You’re perfectly safe.”

      She moved numbly to a chair against the wall and eased down into it. “I...just wanted to ask you a question,” she stammered.

      He shifted, raising one cheek toward the mirror as he drew the shaver over it. “What?”

      “Did...did you call the restaurant and tell James there was a problem at his company?” she asked point-blank.

      The shaver hummed in midair as he turned and stared at her. “What restaurant did you go to?” he asked politely.

      She fought a losing battle to keep her eyes on his face, and he laughed softly at the color that blazed in her softly rouged cheeks.

      “You blush delightfully, did you know? Surely, you must have guessed at some point in our relationship that I was a man.”

      She nodded. “But...I...that is...”

      “My God, you’re repressed,” he sighed. “I really will have to take you to a blue movie.”

      She let a smile peek from her lips. “I don’t need to go anymore,” she murmured.

      He chuckled, turning back to the mirror. He drew the razor across his square jaw and under his chin. “You should be properly flattered that I haven’t grabbed for a robe,” he said with a mischievous glance as he finished and turned off the razor, running a hand over the newly shaven areas to check for missed spots. “At my age, I’m damned particular about being seen like this.”

      “Even by women?” she blurted out.

      He looked across the room at her, a long, intense look that made her pulse race. “It depends on the woman,” he replied.

      “You...don’t mind me,” she murmured, confused.

      “No.”

      Involuntarily, her eyes roved over his body, lingering curiously, memorizing, trembling inwardly at the sheer sensuality of it, the blatant power in those bronze, hair-covered muscles.

      “So, do you approve?” he asked very quietly.

      She averted her eyes suddenly, embarrassed by her fascination with the sight of him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”

      “And I’ve already told you, I don’t mind.” He moved toward her, a slow movement she caught out of the corner of her eye. Uncharacteristically, she jumped and rose from the chair with a start, tension in the soft lines of her body.

      He stopped, froze in place, and she’d never seen that particular look on a man’s face before—desire shadowed with smothered anger.

      “If it’s that much of a damned trauma, go to bed,” he said harshly, turning back to the chest of drawers. He took a short terry-cloth robe from a drawer and shouldered into its thick brown softness, jerking the sash together with sharp, deft movements.

      “I’m sorry,” she said, wary of his gunpowder temper. “Nicholas, I didn’t mean to do that. I...well, I...damn it, what did you expect? This isn’t exactly our usual style of conversing.”

      “Forget it.” He picked up the comb and ran it through his hair, his face still dark and taut.

      She stood there, helpless, her hands twisting the elegant velvet of her long skirt. “Nick...” she murmured pleadingly.

      “Go to bed, Keena,” he repeated, his voice rigid.

      “How can I, when you’re furious with me?” she burst out. “I panicked. All right! For heaven’s sake, I’m lucky I didn’t go right out the window!”

      That seemed to calm him. One corner of his mouth turned up. He chuckled softly. “You’re on the second story,” he reminded her.

      “That first step would be a doozy, wouldn’t it?” she teased.

      He lifted his shoulders. “I overreacted. I’m damned touchy.”

      She was just beginning to realize what he meant. She knew men were sensitive about such things, but the degree of Nick’s sensitivity hadn’t occurred to her until now.

      “About what?” she asked gently. “Nicholas, you must know that you’re magnificent.”

      He darted a glance at her. “Compared to whom?”

      She glared at him. “You might be surprised,” she said haughtily.

      “Liar.” He laid down the comb and stuck his big hands into the pockets of the robe. “You may not be a vestal virgin, honey, but I’m damned sure that you haven’t much of a scrapbook to compare me with. Was it always in the dark?” he added with a veil of humor over a rather harsh curiosity.

      She knew what he was asking, but she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of an answer. He didn’t know all of the truth about herself and James, and she was reluctant to tell him how foolish she had been.

      “You never did answer me,” she said, changing the subject. “And you haven’t asked why I’m home so early.”

      He blinked. “Would you like to run that by me one more time?”

      She sighed. “Don’t you want to know why I’m not still out with James?”

      “Harris wouldn’t be stupid enough to take you along to the plant if there was trouble,” he replied drily.

      “Aha!” she burst out. “You did make that phone call!”

      “I was bored,” he said with a careless shrug. “There isn’t a lot to do here.” He glanced around the room. “I could paint the door facings, I suppose.”

      “You could go back to New York,” she suggested.

      “I’m taking a vacation. I work hard.”

      “I СКАЧАТЬ