The Right Touch. Eileen Nauman

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      “Sit down.”

      Dev sat, rather shocked, watching him stalk to the bathroom. When Cal came back with the washcloth and hunched down in front of her, Dev held out her wrist. “I want you to know, I don’t normally take orders from anyone.”

      Cal wrapped the cloth around her wrist, holding it between his hands. He raised his chin, meeting her cool blue eyes. Eyes that were flecked with gold spikes in their depths. “You’re pulling back from me. I guess sometimes retreat is the better part of valor.”

      “You’re impossible, Travis.”

      A grin lurked around his mouth. “Yeah, I know. And you like me that way.”

      A flush invaded her cheeks. “I didn’t say I liked you at all!” she blustered, her flesh tingling madly where his hands rested. His touch was firm without being painful. As a matter of fact, her wrist felt better already.

      “You also admitted I was handsome.”

      “And a playboy. Don’t forget the last label. It’s the most important one.”

      “What do you have against me enjoying the woman I want to give my undivided attention to?” he asked huskily, the vibration of his voice moving through her like a sensual drug.

      Dev wanted to run. She was reeling from his decidedly masculine aura. “Nothing. Everything,” she muttered, refusing to meet his eyes.

      “If you were my woman, you wouldn’t be saying that,” he told her softly, his voice deep, penetrating.

      Her defenses were up; the red light was going off in the back of her head, and she was trembling. Trembling! And it wasn’t from fear. It was from the promise in Cal’s intimate baritone, aimed at her. She swallowed. “My wrist feels better now.”

      He shook his head, removing the cloth and then refolding it around her wrist. “Why are you afraid of me, Dev Hunter?”

      Cautiously, she met his frank gray eyes. “You make me feel as if I’m being hunted.” She was completely unprepared as his hand left her wrist and framed her face, tilting her head slightly upward. His breath was moist against her flesh as he bent his head.

      “You are….” he said thickly, his mouth slanting across her parted lips as he slowly drew her to her feet.

      The breath was stolen from her body, replaced by the gentle invasion of his mouth, tasting, testing and teasing her lips. Her world shattered into a million golden fragments as Dev felt his hands frame her face, deepening the exploration, coaxing her to partake of the heat that boiled within them. She had no time to react, her hands automatically lifting to rest against the hardened muscles of his upper arms. The scent of Cal entered her nostrils, and she tasted the maleness of him. A driving hunger flared to life in her lower body, liquid fire racing through her as he continued to gently tease her lips with little nips, his tongue lightly stroking her flesh with unexpected tenderness. Her knees weakened, and Dev trembled outwardly as his onslaught continued. Somewhere in her stunned, incoherent mind, Dev recognized that if Cal had been ruthless or brutal, she would have reacted negatively. Instead, he had surprised her again. He was a man of war. Someone who was used to flexing his muscles and using his strength. But he wasn’t capable of using force on her. Dev found herself capitulating to his coaxing.

      Cal slowly broke the kiss, need screaming through his hardened body. “God, you’re so sweet,” he rasped, looking deep into her dazed cobalt eyes. “Sweet and good and all woman.”

      Dev blinked, languorously. If it weren’t for Cal’s fingers spanning her jaw, she would have slumped against him, dizzied by his kiss. She had never savored the utter raw sensuality of a kiss before as she had with him. Confusion darkened her eyes as she basked in his warmth. Dev saw a hint of a smile tugging at his wonderfully shaped mouth.

      “Come on, I think you’d better sit down before you fall down.” Cal led her over to the settee, briefly keeping his hand on her arm. He picked up the cloth that Dev had allowed to drop to the carpet when he had kissed her. Going to the bathroom, he wet it again. Dev gave him a guarded look as he walked back toward her; he saw her defenses going up. Could he blame her? As he hunched down, Cal felt a wave of dizziness race through him. Not because of her giving, vulnerable kiss, either—because of the damn liquor he had consumed. Wrapping her wrist once more, he cursed himself. Now he wanted to be sober. To be clearheaded. Dev interested him. She was different. Independent. And she didn’t play games. Cal didn’t regret the kiss, but he regretted how he was feeling. It had been a stupid, immature idea to drink. Normally he’d have had a few beers, that was all. No carrier pilot lasted long if he hit the bottle.

      “I have a favor to ask,” he began, meeting her grave eyes, “and I know you’ll probably think I’m playing a game when I ask you.”

      Dev’s arm tingled where Cal’s hand rested. Her voice was soft when she answered. “Are you feeling bad?”

      A mocking smile lingered on Cal’s mouth. “Not from kissing you, believe me. It’s from the scotch.” His brows drew downward. “To make a long story very short, Dev, I’ve had about seven hours’ sleep the past four days. All that liquor and I’m ready to keel over.”

      “You’ll never make it back to your ship.”

      “No, I won’t.” He glanced toward the beds. “If you could let me just kick off my shoes and sleep for a few hours—”

      Her eyes flickered with concern. “Four days? Cal, what happened? I mean—”

      His mouth thinned. “I can’t talk about it, Dev. Trust me, all right? Just let me get a few hours and then I’ll leave. I promise I’ll keep my hands off you. No games, my redheaded witch.”

      She studied him for a moment. Her instincts always ran true, no matter how the rest of her was feeling. She searched Cal’s face, noticing that the skin was drawn tautly across his flesh, dark shadows beneath his eyes.

      “Okay. Go lie down. I’m tired, too. Do you want a shower? The hotel supplies robes—”

      Cal slowly stood up. “No. I’ve taken enough advantage of your generosity already, Dev. If I can grab a few hours, that’s all I’ll need.” He walked over to the bed, turned the lamp off and sat down. Dev watched as he took off his shoes, then stretched out, his hands behind his head. She got up, moving to the hall and shutting off another switch, which darkened the entire suite. Her lips still tingled from the coaxing fire of his kiss, and dazedly, she wandered into the bathroom to have her bath. The evening was turning out to be incredible in so many ways.

      Dev languished in the orange-scented bath salts, her thick mane piled on her head. If someone had told her she would be meeting a devastatingly handsome man, a marine corps fighter pilot, she would have roared with laughter. And then to have him in her room, sleeping in one of the beds! If Sarah ever found out, her twenty-year-old eyes would widen to saucer proportions, and her mouth would drop open. Dev smiled. Cal Travis, you are something else. A breed apart. An interesting man. A fascinating human being. She mulled over the facets of him that she had glimpsed that evening. Putting them all together, Dev confirmed her belief that something tragic had happened lately to Cal. After he had kissed her and she had opened her eyes, Dev had seen grief in his gaze. Raw anguish that hadn’t yet been expressed. She sighed tiredly, rising from the water and stepping onto the rug, wrapping the thick white towel around her and drying off.

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