Too Close To Call. Barbara Dunlop

very often.

      She honestly didn’t know whether to believe him or not.

      “Besides, if I betrayed you while you slept, there’s nothing you can do about it now. Let me buy you some bacon and eggs.”

      “I don’t eat meat.”

      “Then, let me buy you pancakes and fruit. Not to brag or anything, but you’re going to need your strength if you’re going up against me.”

      As Ashley stared into his eyes, the sensations from the dream burst back through her mind, making her shiver with the memory. She’d felt so safe in his arms. More safe and loved and cherished than she’d ever imagined possible.

      “You okay?” he asked.

      She nodded, squeezing her eyes shut, reality warring with fantasy.

      “Come on, sleepyhead.” He slipped an arm around her shoulders, strong fingers coaxing her up. His voice was a sensual rumble near her ear. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

      Ashley yielded to the pressure of his arm. Yielded to the magic of her dream. Yielded to the charisma of the new Jeffrey. She allowed him to draw her into a standing position, her body brushing his broad chest.

      Had he grown taller?

      No. That was silly.

      “When’s the last time you slept?” he asked, voice soft.

      She shrugged her shoulders, making no move to pull away. “What day is this?” She gave a quick, nervous laugh.

      He cocked his head, looking deep into her eyes for a long moment. Then something subtly shifted in his expression, and he quickly blinked.

      His fingertips held her arm a little more tightly. “Uh. You better let me take you home to bed.”

      Ashley drew a quick breath, her breasts brushing against him for a split second.

      He didn’t mean…

      Of course he didn’t mean that.

      But, she had such a craving.

      “Ashley?” He sighed her name, and his gaze darkened.

      “Jeffrey?” she whispered back, subconsciously leaning in.

      Just one little kiss. She just wanted a sample. Just a taste of what she’d missed in her dream.

      His arm slipped to her waist and tightened around her. He shook his head and muttered something under his breath. Then he drew her cheek against the thin fabric of his dress shirt, rocking ever so slightly.

      Something inside her shuddered, then settled, then sighed.

      “This is bad,” he whispered against her hair, voice sounding strained.

      He stroked his palm down her disheveled braid. His chest rose and fell with several deep breaths.

      “Yeah,” she agreed, as the heat of his hand seeped into every single follicle.

      “I cannot believe…”

      She waited, but he didn’t finish the sentence. She tipped her head back so she could look him in the eyes. Her lips softened and her knees grew weak.

      This was bad, but in such a good way.

      3

      JORDAN GAZED down at Ashley’s slumberous eyes and inviting lips, soft and deep pink in the flickering light from her computer screen. On second thought, bad was an understatement.

      This was a disaster.

      He knew he had to walk away—now, before things got out of hand. But somehow, he couldn’t get that message to his legs.

      She blinked her long lashes. Once, then twice, then three times. She looked slightly tousled from sleep—that crisp, perfect, don’t-touch-me edge gone.

      Desire convulsed within him.

      He stroked his fingertips over her hair, reveling in its soft texture, inhaling the subtle scent of her wild-flower perfume. “Do you think…”

      “Yes?” she answered on a whisper, her sweet breath puffing against his skin.

      His hand tightened involuntarily around the rope of her braid. “That if I kissed you…”

      Her eyes closed, and she softened in his arms.

      He moved another inch and brushed his lips gently across hers, testing the tender skin, absorbing the heat. “That in two minutes…”

      A small shudder ran through her.

      “Maybe five minutes…” he amended, pausing, puckering, holding her moist lips for a single heartbeat.

      Her hands came up to grip his biceps.

      He touched her lower lip with the tip of his tongue and sensation rocketed to his toes. “In, say, ten minutes from now…We could walk out of here and forget it ever happened?”

      “Jeffrey?” Her voice was small. Her fingertips dug into his arms, bringing far more pleasure than pain.

      “Yeah?” he breathed.

      “You’re already kissing me.”

      “Oh, no, I’m not.” He shook his head. This wasn’t kissing.

      But if she was willing…

      He gave her a second to pull away. Then he opened his mouth, tipped his head, captured her lips, and sealed them together in a fusion of heat and pent-up passion, his brain blinded to everything but the feel and taste of Ashley.

      She came up on her toes, and he settled his arm more firmly around her waist, pulling her tight against his tension-filled body. His fingers tangled in her hair, thumb stroking her cheek, circling her ear, dipping, delving, finding the tender, secret places on the back of her neck.

      He flicked his tongue against the inside of her lips, and her mouth opened wider on a moan. Her hands slid to his shoulders and she held on, tipping her head to one side. Her tongue met his halfway, tangling in a burst of heated need.

      Now this was kissing.

      His fingertips found the silky skin between her short sweater and her little skirt, twitching in reaction. He longed to explore further, but they’d only agreed on a kiss.

      So, he focused on her mouth, kissing her longer, harder, deeper. Coming up for air to pepper the corners of her mouth with mini kisses, tasting her soft skin, inhaling the hidden scent where her neck curved into her shoulder.

      And then he was back to her mouth, because that was the apex of her magic. The computers hummed in the background, the multicolored screens bathing the room in a soft glow. Jordan was losing his center, losing his perspective.

      She tasted of sweet coffee and midnight dreams, and he wanted the kiss to go on forever.

      But the kiss was a lie.

      He was living a lie.

      She thought he was Jeffrey, and Jeffrey thought she was the enemy. And here in L.A., Jordan Adamson didn’t even exist. Of all the off-limits women in the whole off-limits world, Ashley took first prize.

      There was no way for this to turn out well.

      Though his body screamed for mercy, Jordan loosened his hold. He forced his hand to let go of her hair. He broke from her lips, gathering his strength, steeling his desire, then going back for a single, lightning-fast kiss of regret.

      Her eyes flickered open. A deep breath slipped out between her swollen lips.

      “Our ten minutes are up,” he whispered, touching his forehead to hers.

      “So soon?” she asked.

      Not a moment too soon, his brain pointed out. Even though his body strongly disagreed.