Run the Risk. Lori Foster
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Название: Run the Risk

Автор: Lori Foster

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Эротическая литература

Серия: Mills & Boon M&B

isbn: 9781472000705

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ her reaction, and decided that no, he did not have any sense of decorum.

      “It bothers you?” he asked. “Kissing me, I mean? Is that why you’re over there strangling yourself?”

      “No—”

      “Sure looked bothered to me.”

      “I didn’t expect to discuss it over dinner!”

      He ignored that. “I’m wondering,” he said, “if I mentioned how bad I want to get you naked, would you keel right over?”

      Throwing the slice of pizza at him seemed like a good idea. Instead she put it back on her plate. Should she leave? Show disdain? Embarrassment?

      She decided on a dose of honesty instead. “You’ll never see me naked.”

      “No?” As if only mildly curious, he asked, “Why not?”

      “Because I won’t allow it.”

      His eyes narrowed—and his gaze went to her chest. “Too shy, huh?”

      She sat back in her seat. “You don’t talk like a man who ever hopes to be successful. You’re so mocking, it’s almost an insult.”

      “Don’t mean to be.” He put another gigantic slice of pizza onto his plate. “Truth is, Sue, you confound me.”

      “Confound you?”

      She had to wait while he devoured half the pizza. After he wiped his mouth with a napkin, he crossed his arms over the table. “You’re as interested as I am. I wasn’t the only one on the couch who wanted more.”

      Since he waited, she said, “No.” She’d probably been far needier than he was. For certain, she’d been celibate longer.

      “So why are you so skittish? Why the mixed messages?”

      Shoot. She had been pretty inconsistent. But how could she possibly explain the past that held her back, the fears that dictated she show discretion in all things?

      He saved her by reaching for her hand. “You can tell me, you know.”

      No, she most definitely could not. She eyed him warily. “Tell you what?”

      “If someone hurt you. If you’re just inexperienced. If you’re modest or afraid or…whatever the problem might be.”

      All that? What exactly did he think? That she’d lived in a convent? That she’d been a victim of abuse? For certain she couldn’t tell him any part of the truth. Even with the passing of time, even with Morton Andrews’s club, Checkers, being in another county—distant enough that they wouldn’t run into him, close enough that Rowdy could keep tabs on him—the truth would be risky.

      But she had to say something, so she looked at his big hand holding hers. “I am shy. And I am modest.” A really good liar, too.

      “But you want me.”

      Did she ever. Whether she should or not, whether it was wise or not.

      “Sue? Whatever you tell me, it’s okay. I’m not going to start rushing you.”

      Baloney. That’s all he’d done so far. She met his gaze. “Yes.”

      It took several heartbeats before he repeated, “Yes…what?”

      “I want you.” Let him deal with that. “Your interest has been flattering,” she added, trying to sound a little more uncertain. “But I’m not comfortable with anyone seeing me.”

      His sharpened attention moved over her. “Naked, you mean?”

      “Yes, that’s what I mean.”

      A heated stillness fell over him. “You don’t have anything I haven’t already seen, right?”

      She almost choked again. He had no idea the surprises she kept hidden. “I’m not disfigured, if that’s what you’re asking.”

      “No, I wasn’t. Just making a point, that’s all. And if modesty is the only problem—”

      “It’s not.” No, there were a million reasons why she shouldn’t get too involved with him, physically or otherwise.

      And yet, here she sat. Having pizza. Talking.

      After allowing him to kiss her into oblivion and grope her on the sofa. She put her head in her hands and fought off a groan.

      Pushing his chair back from the table, his dinner forgotten, he concentrated on her. “What else?”

      Because it felt as if he might pounce on her at any moment despite his promise not to rush her, Pepper left her chair and stood behind it. Judging by the look on his face, he saw it as a defensive move. She knew it was more a matter of control: around him, she had none.

      Slowly, he stood.

      Before he took a step toward her—and before she pounced on him—she said, “I barely know you.”

      “Okay.” He held out his arms. “I’m an open book. What do you want to know?”

      Why do you want me so badly? No, she couldn’t ask him anything that blunt. “Everything, I guess.”

      “Will you sit down and finish eating while I give you a verbal resume?”

      Why not? She was still hungry, the pizza still hot. “Okay.” Not looking at him, she took her seat and again bit into her pizza.

      “Long or short version?”

      Everything, in minute detail. She shook her head. “I don’t mean to pry exactly—”

      “Long it is.” He smiled, waited until she got a mouthful, then said, “Never been married, but was engaged once. Have a degree in business, but haven’t used it because I enjoy the freedom of construction more. I’ve been all over the country, but prefer the Midwest. I’m thirty-two, love watching all sports and enjoy playing softball or football. I detest shopping of any kind, even for groceries, but I’m a fair cook when forced to it. I really like animals, but don’t have any because, well, living in a place like this, it wouldn’t be fair to the animal, right? Dogs especially deserve a big backyard. In fact, now that I’m thinking about it, I don’t really trust anyone who doesn’t like animals, so do you?”

      It took Pepper a moment to realize he’d slipped a question in there. She swallowed down her bite and nodded. “Yes, but for the same reasons you just gave—” and many more “—I don’t have any pets, either.” Someday, in her fantasy future, she’d love to have pets, lots of them. Kids, too…no, she wouldn’t, couldn’t think that way.

      It’d only depress her.

      “So we have that in common,” Logan said. “My folks have an ancient German shepherd that loves to swim. I think it’s easier for him than running, less stress on his hips.”

      Slipping in her own question, she asked, “Why didn’t you marry?”

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