Plain Jane's Secret Life. Cathy Thacker Gillen

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      The way Dylan had been looking at her since they’d met up at Sharkey’s Pool Hall, Hannah could swear he knew what she was up to. And more—disapproved of her methods of getting his brother what Cal wanted and needed to turn his life around.

      Not that Dylan could possibly know anything of the secret she was sharing with his doctor-brother, Hannah reassured herself bluntly as Dylan’s lips came impossibly closer to hers.

      “You’re not going to kiss me,” Hannah murmured as she splayed her hands across the hard, warm surface of his chest.

      Dylan’s sexy grin merely widened. “Want to bet?” he said.

      And then his lips were on hers, and so many emotions poured through Hannah all at once. Shock that he dared to put the moves on her, amazement that she was actually letting him. She had never felt anything like the sweet seduction of Dylan Hart, never melted in anyone’s arms this way. The depth of her response, the way she got caught up in the unhurried pressure of his lips, and the liquid stroking of his tongue shook her to her soul.

      Furious at both him and herself—she didn’t give this part of herself away to just anyone!—she clamped her lips together. To no avail. He subtly traced the seam and worked them apart using a mixture of pressure and temptation that was unlike anything Hannah had ever dreamed or felt. Pressing her even tighter against his hard, muscled length, he kissed her again and again as if there were no tomorrow for either of them. And as desire swirled inside her and caught flame, she could almost…almost…believe it. Probably would have, if the hard lessons of life hadn’t taught her to protect her heart.

      “Darn it all, Dylan,” Hannah told him breathlessly when at last he lifted his head. “You had no business laying one on me—especially like that!” She felt herself flushing as he cupped her face between his hands.

      “I still want to do it again,” he whispered, looking down at her.

      And so did she, Hannah thought on a beleaguered groan as she surged right back into his arms. Right or wrong, who cared, when it felt so darn good…

      Dylan had started this on impulse. Mostly as a test. To see if Hannah kissed like the experienced lady of the evening she had acted and sounded like back at the Wedding Inn, when she had been receiving instructions from Cal. Instead, the delectable Hannah Reid kissed as if she was all of sixteen, sweetly and awkwardly at first, tentativeness turning to enthusiasm, shy reserve to passion. And it was that mixture of innocence and ardor that was nearly his undoing. Because when their mouths were fused together like this, when he felt the responsiveness of her lips moving with sweet deliberation against his, it was all he could do to hold his own passion in check. It had been so long since he’d felt anything genuine or spent time with anyone this complicated and challenging. And he needed that, he was beginning to realize. Needed this…unbridled passion.

      Unfortunately, because of the situation with his brother and his suspicions about Hannah, he couldn’t give in to it. At least not yet.

      Hearts pounding, regrets already forming—on both sides—they drew apart. Hannah looked at him as if she wanted to kiss him and smack him for his audacity simultaneously.

      He knew how she felt. He wanted to kiss her and smack himself, too.

      Then, as he sort of knew she would, she composed herself admirably. Becoming the cool, unflappable Hannah who hung out with the guys and never ever let anything faze her, once again. “You really have to leave,” she told him firmly, in responsible-grown-up mode again.

      He found himself wishing the reckless teenager would come back. For just one more kiss. Maybe two?

      “Now,” Hannah continued, giving him an even look. “Before we do something we’re both going to wish we hadn’t.”

      Dylan nodded, knowing that was the shrewdest course. Now all he needed was a plausible excuse to stay close enough to her to be able to find out what she was up to with Cal. His being fired was it. “Can I come back in the morning? Hang out here during the day so I can make phone calls and do e-mails and start looking for another job?” After all, she wouldn’t be here, she would be at her auto repair shop.

      Hannah studied him as if wondering what he was up to. “Why not go back to Chicago if you want to do that?”

      “There’s too much tea and sympathy waiting for me there,” Dylan told her truthfully. And frankly, he didn’t want to hear it. “And it would raise my family’s suspicions if I were to cut my visit short again and go back without warning.” He’d done that the previous week and ended up missing Janey and Thad’s wedding rehearsal and dinner. He was still in the doghouse with his mother over that one.

      “And you’re hanging out here at my place all day long won’t draw their curiosity?” Arms folded in front of her, Hannah regarded him skeptically.

      Dylan shrugged, and moved his glance away from the soft, rounded curves of her breasts beneath the clinging tank top. “I’ll tell them I volunteered to help you get a handle on your renovations,” he temporized. “Help you finish some drywalling or painting or something.”

      She continued studying him astutely. “And why would you do that?”

      “As penance for inconveniencing you so much this afternoon and almost making you late for Janey and Thad’s wedding, too.”

      She didn’t disagree that he owed her. “You’ve got all the angles covered, don’t you?”

      “For tomorrow, anyway. So, do we have a deal?”

      “On one condition.”

      Dylan waited.

      “No more kisses.”

      “Unless, of course, you initiate them.” He grinned.

      Hannah scoffed. “I wouldn’t hold your breath waiting for that to happen.”

      Given the way she was looking at him now, he wouldn’t either. Still, he owed her. “You’re a real pal, Hannah,” Dylan told her as they headed companionably for the door. “Not that it’s any surprise you’re so understanding,” he continued, glad the mood was relaxing between them once again.

      The shift from potential lover to platonic buddy was not as welcome as Dylan had hoped it would be to Hannah. “And why is that?” she asked him warily. She paused, her hand on the doorknob.

      “I don’t know exactly.” Dylan struggled to put into words his feelings about her natural ability to put a man at ease. “Maybe because you’ve spent so much time with the guys, growing up, you’re almost like one of us. And bottom line,” he said as he patted her on the back in lieu of the kiss good-night he would have preferred, “guys help their buddies out.”

      “ONE OF THE GUYS,” Hannah was still fuming the next morning when she went to work at the garage. Didn’t that just take the cake!

      “I don’t think he was trying to insult you, honey,” Slim Kerstetter said. Hannah’s only employee, the sixty-year-old Slim had worked at the garage since he was a teenager himself, staying on after Hannah’s grandfather died and the business came into her hands. “He was probably just trying to compliment you, and it came out all wrong. Guys do that, you know.”

      Hannah glanced at Slim. As usual, Slim was wearing baggy СКАЧАТЬ