Completely Smitten. Susan Mallery

got them moving in the direction of the motel. Haley was still upright and remotely mobile, but he had a feeling that was going to be changing in the next few minutes. At least she was still managing full sentences.

      “Do you know your room number?”

      Rather than answer, she sighed. He felt the soft puff of air on his cheek.

      “You never answered my question,” she said instead.

      “What question?”

      He made the mistake of looking at her face—at her blue-hazel eyes and the curves at the corners of her mouth. At the knowing expression that heated his blood and made him consider possibilities.

      “No way,” he muttered more to himself than to her. He was not going there with her.

      She pushed away from him and tried to stand on her own. She was nearly successful. With her feet firmly planted, she swayed back and forth, stumbled a step, then regained her balance by holding her arms out a little on each side.

      “What is it about me?” she demanded. “Why don’t men want to take advantage of me? Am I ugly? Is my body hideous?”

      Did they really need to be having this conversation now? He eyed the night sky—thick with clouds and the promise of rain. More lightning flashed in the distance.

      “We’re going to get soaked in about thirty seconds,” he said.

      She glared at him. “I mean it. What’s wrong with me?”

      “Nothing’s wrong with you.”

      “So why don’t you want to have—”

      For a second he thought she was actually going to say “sex” but at the last minute she pressed her lips together and stared meaningfully. At least he assumed that’s what she was doing. That and tipping over.

      He grabbed her around the waist and hauled her against him.

      “Walk,” he commanded.

      She started moving.

      “Tell me,” she demanded. “What’s wrong with me?”

      “Like I said—nothing. It’s not you.” Hell, why not just tell her the truth? “It’s the whole preacher’s daughter thing. No one wants to spit in the eye of God.”

      She considered that while they crossed the rest of the bar’s parking lot and stepped onto the motel parking lot.

      “What about forbidden flute?”

      The flute thing threw him for a second. “Do you mean ‘fruit’?”

      She nodded vigorously and nearly collapsed. “My head is spinning,” she said, sounding as thrilled as a kid at a carnival. “The sky’s spinning, too.”

      “Great.”

      “I can be fruit,” she insisted.

      “If that’s what you want.”

      “Don’t you think of me that way? Aren’t I a temptation?”

      He was impressed she could manage a three-syllable word. Unfortunately, while her verbal skills remained intact, her motor skills were fading fast. He had to support more and more of her weight to keep them moving toward the motel.

      “Room number,” he said.

      “Look at what happened with Eve and the apple. That could be me. I could be an apple.”

      “I’ll bet you could even be a plum. Keep moving.”

      “Plum? Who wants to be that?”

      They had reached the building. Kevin paused to lean against a column supporting the overhead walkway around the second story.

      “I need your key,” he said. “I’m going to take it out of your purse.”

      She smiled brightly. “Okay.”

      He opened the clasp and dug around until he came up with a key attached to a plastic pink flamingo. The number three had been painted on the flamingo’s wing.

      At least they weren’t going to have to negotiate the stairs.

      She shifted her weight just as he closed her purse. The action caused her to slide against him, which pressed her right breast into his side. Instinctively he wrapped both his arms around her to hold her upright. She turned until they were facing each other. Pressed together. Close. Too close.

      Her slightly unfocused eyes half closed. “You’re very strong,” she murmured.

      “Don’t even go there,” he told her, trying to figure out where he was going to find room number three.

      “Strong and sexy.”

      Before he could stop her, she reached up and pulled off his cap and stuck it on her own head. Of course she looked completely adorable.

      “I’ve never thought about a man being strong before,” she continued with a sigh. “It’s nice. As for the sexy part.” She covered her mouth with her fingers. “I’ve never thought about a man that way before, either.”

      “All right, Haley. Let’s go.”

      He got them moving toward the row of doors, each labeled with a number. There were seven on each floor.

      “Do you think I’m sexy?” she asked.

      They passed seven. He didn’t answer.

      “Kevin?”

      Six. Just three more doors and then they were home.

      “Can I at least be an apple?”

      Bingo. He stuck the key in the door and pushed it open.

      “In we go,” he said, helping her over the threshold.

      “Not even an apple,” she murmured, sounding tragically sad.

      He told himself that speaking the truth would only get them both in trouble. In her current state there was no telling what she would do if she figured out that she was exactly like forbidden fruit and he was a man who had been starving for years.

      He followed her into the room, which was typical for a cheap roadside motel. Full-size bed, small dresser, a couple of chairs and a door leading to a white-on-white bathroom. It looked clean enough, he supposed, a little surprised to find himself wanting Haley to have something nicer than this. What did he care where she stayed? As long as it wasn’t with him.

      He pulled the key out of the lock and closed the door. Haley continued to hold on to him. He moved them both toward the bed so that when she finally did let go, she wouldn’t have very far to fall.

      Speaking of which, once he really noticed the bed—wide, covered with a blue spread and very empty—he found it hard to notice anything else.

      Sexy, willing women and beds just seemed made for each other.

      He had to admit he liked the feel of her pressing against him. She was warm and seemed designed to fit him. He allowed himself a brief but meaningful fantasy, then put it firmly out of his mind. For one thing, he didn’t take advantage of anyone, ever. For another, his track record wasn’t exactly the greatest.

      He dropped the key onto the small table between the chairs and put his hands on her shoulders.

      “Why don’t you sit down?” he suggested. “The bed is right behind you. If you’re still, the room will stop spinning.”

      She smiled. “I like it spinning.” She blinked and when she opened her eyes, her gaze lasered in on his mouth.

      “Do you know that I’ve only ever been kissed by three men. Well, only one man, really. The other two were boys in high school.” She frowned. “Or were they young men? When do boys become men?”

      When they finally make it with a woman, he thought