Just Friends To . . . Just Married. Renee Roszel

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ only half focusing on what she said between breezy kisses. With great reluctance, but undeniable desire, he en-folded her in his arms.

      “Oh, Jax,” she said in a long sigh, her sweet breath tickling his chin. “It’s been too long.”

      She clung, gifted him with light, beguiling jaw kisses as she spoke. “I’ve missed you so much.” She paused, smiled. Her green eyes glistened a bit too much, as though they were teary. Still, Jax found them to be the most breathtaking sight he’d seen in—well, for almost ever. At least since the last time he looked into them. His resistance crumbling, he smiled at her, hating himself but helpless against the depth of his feelings. “Hi, Kim.” He hugged her, fighting the urge to cover those full lips with his, show her exactly what brand of greeting he ached to give her. If she knew the immensity of his restraint, she would blush as brilliant as her auburn hair, dazzling in the porch light. “It’s—good to see you,” he said against her temple, meaning it. Damn him.

      “Oh, Jax!” she said, her voice sweet but melancholy. He knew exactly what that meant. Another man had broken her heart. He tensed. “I hope you don’t mind my coming, but I really need you right now.”

      Yeah, he thought, you need me right now. I need you every blasted minute of every blasted day. Naturally he didn’t say that aloud. Playing his part as the dutiful friend, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

      She loosened her grip on his shoulders and drew far enough away to look into his face. Her smile, though tentative and tremulous, blew him away. If he were a man who cried in the presence of great beauty, he would be in tears. “Oh, Jax…” she whispered again, then bit her lip, the expression sexy as hell, though he knew she had no inkling. “Could we go inside? I—I’d rather not…” She indicated his front porch. Wide and deep, it held a couple of padded chairs on either side of a small table. Late September in Chicago could be nippy, and she wore no coat. “…I mean, it’s rather personal.”

      “Sure.” That’s right, idiot. Do exactly what you swore you wouldn’t do. Face it. You have no will of your own where Kim is concerned. He released her and indicated her suitcase. “I’ll take that.”

      Thanks.” She preceded him into his three-story condo. “The flight of steps to the porch almost killed me, lugging that bag,” she said.

      “That’s the downside of stacking a fourplex of condos on one narrow lot. It makes the first floor the garage.” Kim grasped his hand as they came inside. He felt it too deeply and tugged free to wave toward the staircase, showing her the way to the bedroom floor. “I’ll take your bag to the guest room. You’ll probably want to freshen up.”

      She gazed around his luxury condo, the dark granite surround of the fireplace, the earth tones, from the mossy suede couch, rust-dyed drapes, the punches of gold and red in throw pillows and accessories, to the sleek chocolate-glazed accent tables. “You have a nice place.” She faced him and smiled. “Fashionable, yet masculine.”

      He shrugged. “I bought it furnished.”

      She looked him up and down, then took his hand again. “Well, it’s very put together.” She squeezed his fingers affectionately. “So are you, by the way. I like the suit trousers and dress shirt. I’d call that look ‘casual elegant.’” She grinned. “Did you get all casual elegant for me?”

      He shook his head. “I just got home and was changing when I got your message. Another minute and I’d have been a little too casual and a lot less elegant.”

      She laughed. The musical lilt sent a sharp pain straight to his heart. “You mean you got my message minutes before I rang the doorbell?”

      “‘Fraid so.”

      She stuck out her lower lip in a pretend pout. “Then I’m disappointed. I thought you’d prettied up for me.”

      He frowned as he always had when she put on a pout. Once again he removed his fingers from hers. “I prettied up for a client dinner.”

      “Oh.” She clasped her hands before her and nodded. “I see. Well, I guess I can get over the blow to my ego.”

      He scanned her from head to toe, admitting only the smallest fraction of what he thought. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” Raising an eyebrow at her, he asked, “I presume you got all—” he wanted to say adorable, but thought better of it “—chic for me.”

      She touched the collar of her pink linen suit jacket. “This thing? I flew from Vegas to St. Louis earlier today. Then when—” She cut herself off, swallowed. “Anyway, then I flew here. If I’m not a wrinkled, grimy mess, it’s a miracle.”

      To him she looked like she’d stepped out of a fashion magazine. “Since neither of us prettied up for each other, and our egos are sufficiently crushed, do you want to freshen up or talk first?”

      She seemed to give the matter a moment’s thought. When her glance drifted to the staircase, he knew her choice before she spoke. “I think I’d like to take a good soak and get into sweats.” She looked at him, her expression one of hope. “Will you still be up?”

      What could he say? He wanted to be asleep. He should be asleep. It had been a very long day. But he knew even if he blew her off and went to bed, he’d get no sleep tonight. Not with her in the next room. “Since when have I not been here for you when you wanted to talk?” he said. Why are you going to be here for her now? Are you that much of a glutton for punishment? he admonished inwardly, but he wasn’t listening to reason. He was too focused on Kimberly’s beautiful eyes.

      “I’d have to say you’ve always been there for me.” She smiled, reaching up to pat his cheek. “I’ll be down in a half hour.”

      “Would you like something to eat.”

      “I’d kill for some of your great pancakes.”

      “Pancakes, it is.” He carried her bag up the steps, watching her as she moved ahead of him. Her long, slim legs hypnotized him. The slight sway of her hips transfixed him. The swinging bounce of her hair tormented him. He bit back an oath. When they reached her room he set down her bag. “See you…whenever,” he said, feeling uncharacteristically awkward.

      “See ya, Jax.” She hugged his neck and planted a kiss almost—but not quite—on his lips. She and her suitcase had disappeared before he could breathe again.

      When he managed to turn away from her door, he ground out, “Blast you, Jax.” He headed downstairs. “You are the world’s heavyweight champion fool.”

      Kim lounged in a tub of steamy water, her hair piled in a swirly heap on top of her head. Bubbly jets massaged her from all sides. Such luxury. Jax had come a long way since the days when he lived in the cookie-cutter tract house next door. She loved this bathroom. All marble and mirrors, and the guest room closet was huge. Empty and huge. Well, it was empty before she hung up her stuff. She sighed and inhaled the fragrant air. She could smell Jax’s cologne. Odd. Maybe it was in her hair. She reached up and tugged down a strand and sniffed. “Ah,” she said through a sigh. His scent lingered there. “You smell so good.” She inhaled deeply once more before stuffing the strand back up out of her face.

      She closed her eyes and thought about him. How great he looked. Had she ever seen him in a suit before? She couldn’t recall. Though he didn’t have on a tie or suit jacket, he still looked very dashing, very GQ. And she liked his hair. She’d forgotten how shiny and soft and jet-black it was. With just СКАЧАТЬ