The Bachelor's Bed. Jill Shalvis

he couldn’t picture this little waif of a housecleaner being interested in a quickie affair with him. She seemed more like the kind of woman who played for keeps.

      And while he wanted everyone off his back, he absolutely did not want to be playing games with someone he could inadvertently hurt. Had inadvertently hurt. There could be no attraction between them, none at all.

      “So you do still need a fictional fiancée?”

      “Yes,” he said.

      She nodded slowly. “But no wedding date.”

      “God, no.”

      “I see.” A light eyebrow raised. “You wouldn’t want to get stuck with the hassles of a real relationship.”

      Not ever again, he thought with a shudder. “It’s not necessary in this case. But…” he sighed, “I just found out my mother is coming in two days to meet my fiancée. She’ll want to stay at my house and get to know the woman.”

      “Oh. So now you need a live-in fictional fiancée.”

      “Yeah.”

      “Well.” Lani flashed him a hundred-watt smile, which quite frankly dazzled him blind and left him decidedly unsettled.

      This was a business arrangement, he reminded himself. No reason for her smile to alter his pulse. Hormones had no place here.

      “I understand now,” she said.

      “Will you do it?”

      She looked at him, surprised, then reached out and squeezed his hands. “You can wipe that frown off your face, Colin. I don’t go back on my word.”

      The easy forgiveness startled him. So did the physical contact. Not only because she was surprisingly warm, but because he wasn’t used to being touched for absolutely no reason at all.

      He came from a family of firm non-touchers.

      His father had never touched him, unless of course he had been tearing the hide off Colin for taking apart an appliance or blowing up the garage with his biology experiments. His mother wasn’t a toucher, either, she had been too busy running everyone’s life or traveling.

      As a result, Colin himself rarely touched anyone, certainly not for no reason at all. Which didn’t explain why he’d done exactly that earlier when Lani had first arrived at his house.

      Suddenly Lani danced away, frowning and shifting uncomfortably, plucking at her clothes. The air hissed out between her teeth and she looked pained.

      “I’ve really got to get out of this shirt.”

      Before he could blink, she unhooked the two shoulder straps of her overalls and shoved the bib to her waist. She was still amply covered in that shapeless, huge T-shirt. Colin didn’t blink. After all, he knew exactly how that cleaner felt against skin. It hurt like hell.

      No problem that she appeared to be stripping down in front of him, in a kitchen so small he couldn’t breathe without nearly touching her. He wasn’t attracted to her, not in the least.

      Besides they were going to be living together. He could handle this.

      “Darn it,” she murmured, still wiggling and rubbing her chest, bumping into him with every little shimmy. “Darn it all.” And with that, she ripped the T-shirt over her head, revealing a tight, cropped tank top. She closed her eyes with a dreamy sigh. “Yeah, that’s better. Whew! That stuff burns after a while.”

      Colin opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Her elbows brushed his chest as she lowered her arms, her thighs bumped into his. Now his jeans were beginning to cut off circulation, belying his self-assurances that he didn’t find her attractive.

      How could he have known that beneath her awful, huge clothes, his cleaning lady/fictional fiancée had been hiding a body to die for?

      “I think I burned my skin in a couple of spots.” With her head bent, her silky hair slid over his arm as she stared down at herself.

      Colin stared, too. She was slender yet wildly curved, and he wished she would pull her overalls back up.

      She drew a deep breath and opened her eyes, smiling at him in relief. “You didn’t tell me how much better that felt!”

      Speech was impossible. Her overalls had dropped to just below her waist, so he had a front-row view of her smooth, very flat stomach, her slim but curved hips, the outline of her firm, high, unencumbered breasts.

      Good Lord. No doubt in his mind, he was attracted to his cleaning lady.

      To his fiancée.

      She flashed that brain-cell-destroying smile again. “You okay?”

      He wasn’t sure. He couldn’t think. He remembered a bawdy joke he’d been told, about how men had both a brain and a penis, but only enough blood to operate one at a time. He believed it now. “Uh-huh. I’m fine.”

      “So we’re going to live together to prove we’re a loving couple.”

      A loving couple. Damn, but that was terrifying. Unable to help himself, he looked at her again, and felt his body’s surging response. She was one of the sexiest women he’d ever seen. And he was going to live with her. “We have to fool my mother, never an easy thing,” he said a bit hoarsely. He cleared his throat. “She has eyes in the back of her head, and…” at her questioning look, he sighed again, loudly, “she thinks we’ve been living together already.”

      Her gaze widened briefly, then ran over his body once before she swallowed hard. “Well,” she said.

      “Yeah. Well.”

      They stared at each other, awkwardly. Colin couldn’t get past her easy forgiveness, her willingness to want to help him. Or her huge, expressive eyes.

      “It’s certainly not going to be a hardship to live at your house instead of here,” she said finally. “You have air-conditioning.”

      That wasn’t the hardship he was worried about. This was pretend, this whole crazy scene, and it would be over as soon as he could finish his project. Lani would leave, and in spite of the fact that he was discovering an attraction, he wouldn’t hurt her by letting her think there was more involved here.

      “My work won’t change,” she said, almost as a question, touchingly uncertain.

      “No, I don’t want to disrupt your work. Lani…I have to know… Why are you doing this?”

      She tilted her head, a small smile about her lips. “Your project,” she said simply. “It’s unselfish and hopeful and full of promise. I want you to finish it. If I can help, then it makes me feel useful and a part of it.”

      “Is that the only reason?”

      A flicker of unease crossed her face, then disappeared. “Of course.”

      He didn’t know what to make of her, she wasn’t like any woman he’d ever met. And they were going to live together. Her razor in his shower. Her toothbrush on his sink. Her panties in with his whites. His head spun at that last thought.

      He wondered if those panties were as revealing as the teeny, tiny, little top she wore now. And oh boy, sometime in the past minute or so, she’d gotten cold. Her nipples, rosy and mouthwateringly perfect, were pushing at the thin cotton, straining for freedom.

      “So we’re on?” she asked innocently.

      He was a dead man, but they were on. “Yes.”

      She laughed, dove at him and flung her arms around his neck.

      “What the—”

      She squeezed him close, pressing against him all those warm curves in a spine-breaking hug. Before he could lift his arms to push her away—and he most definitely would have pushed her away no matter what his hormones were screaming—she stepped back.

      “I