Marriage On Demand. Сьюзен Мэллери

heaviness filled his groin. The dim light would make his condition harder for her to discern. Just as well—for both of them. If she kept on blushing around him, her face would be permanently red. If she didn’t blush, he would be tempted to do exactly what she’d been thinking about.

      She took another step and this time cleared the bathroom door. She looked exactly as he had pictured, all soft and pale, overwhelmed by his robe. She’d rolled up the sleeves a couple of times so they only hung to her knuckles. The knotted belt trailed almost to her knees.

      “Do you want some coffee?” he asked, raising a mug.

      Her head jerked toward him. She’d washed away the rest of her makeup, and without cosmetics, she looked about seventeen. Her mouth was well shaped, slightly wide and normally tilting up at the corners. Now it twisted down on one side as she nibbled her lower lip.

      Her hair fanned out over her shoulders just as he’d pictured it. A flash of heat seared through his belly. For that second he wished she was like the widow in the next town. Jasmine visited him a couple of times a week. She was rich, lonely and bored. They made hot and fast love, seeking mutual release and no commitment. It had been easy to be with her, and easy to let her go. Three months before, they’d decided to end the affair. He didn’t miss her, but parts of him missed her body. It would be a mistake to start something like that with Rebecca, even if her slender shape, so different from Jasmine’s lushness, taunted him. Rebecca would be long and lean, a wildcat, he suspected. It was the innocence in her eyes that kept him from finding out.

      “Coffee would be nice,” she said, her voice low and steady. She took a step toward him, then paused.

      He turned his back to her and poured the steaming liquid into both mugs. “Cream, sugar?”

      “Cream,” she said, sounding a little closer.

      He grabbed a small carton from the fridge, added a splash then picked up the mug and held it out. She crossed the hardwood floor and took it.

      “Thanks. I’m sorry to be such a bother. Dripping all over everything. Thanks for the robe. I’m sure my clothes will dry quickly and then I can be on my way. Except for the car. But you said you’d call for a tow truck. I guess that’ll take a little while, what with the weather and all. I really appreciate—”

      “Rebecca?” Slowly, so as not to alarm her, he turned toward her and leaned against the counter.

      She stopped chattering and glanced at him. Her eyes were dark and wide, her face flushed with embarrassment. “Yes?”

      “You’re babbling.”

      The flush deepened. “I know. I’m nervous.”

      “Don’t be.” He reached over past her to the phone mounted on the wall. He drew the receiver to his ear and listened to the silence. Grimacing, he set it back in place, then motioned for her to follow him.

      “What is it?” she asked, trailing behind him as he headed for the living area.

      “Phone’s out. Usually happens during bad weather.”

      “You can’t call the tow truck?”

      The panic in her voice almost made him smile. Almost. He didn’t necessarily like scaring her, even if it wasn’t a bad idea. Maybe if she was scared enough she would stop looking at him as if she’d already imagined them together in bed.

      He sat in the single chair opposite the sofa and set his mug of coffee on the upturned crate that served as an end table. She slowly lowered herself to the middle of the couch. The oversize cushions threatened to swallow her whole.

      “If I don’t lose power, they should get the phone working in a couple of hours,” he said, reaching over and clicking on a floor lamp.

      She clutched the mug tighter. “And if you do lose power?”

      “It means the whole line is down, and you’ll be stuck here until tomorrow.”

      Her mouth opened to form a perfect O but she made no sound.

      “I promise I don’t bite,” he said, leaning back in the chair.

      “I know.” She sighed, sounding disappointed.

      Lightning flashed outside the windows, and thunder filled the room. Rebecca flinched at the loud noise, then took a big gulp of coffee. She sucked in a breath, then coughed. “There’s liquor in this!”

      “So?”

      She raised her eyebrows and looked at him as if he’d just suggested they take a naked stroll through the local church. “What do you think you’re doing by serving liquor?”

      “My mistake. I could have sworn you were over twenty-one. At least twenty-two.”

      She straightened in her seat and glared at him. The gold tones of the sofa contrasted with the pristine white of the borrowed robe and the dark brilliance of her curly hair. “I’ll have you know I’m twenty-nine, but that isn’t the point.”

      “What is?” he asked mildly, his calm voice a contrast to her shrill tones.

      “That I…that you…” She drew a deep breath, then sagged back against the cushions. “You could have warned me.”

      “I thought it might warm you from the inside.”

      Like electricity seeking a conductor, her gaze sought his mouth. Oh, no. He knew exactly what she was thinking, damn her innocent little hide. He told himself she was a fool. He told himself to ignore her. It didn’t help. He could practically taste her. His heartbeat quickened and his blood flowed hotter.

      She sipped her coffee, never taking her gaze from him. Most of the time he found her feelings for him faintly amusing. From a distance she was easy to take. But here, in the close confines of his loft, with the storm cutting them off from the rest of the world, it would be far too simple to take her up on her offer.

      He eyed her relaxed posture and the way his robe had slipped off one of her knees, baring her calf and part of her thigh. Her skin looked smooth. He knew it would be warm to the touch, soft and supple.

      He forced himself to look away and concentrate on the facts. One, she was a friend of Travis and Elizabeth’s. He wouldn’t hurt either of them for anything, and dallying with Rebecca was bound to upset them. Two, she wasn’t his type. At twenty-nine she’d probably been involved with men before, but not men like him. He knew that. There was something about him. He didn’t know if it was his money or his desire to stand outside and observe without always participating, but women seemed to find him attractive. The invitations came fast and furious. He was always careful about which ones he accepted. The rules of the game were simple—no emotional involvement, no promises, no commitment. He glanced back at his guest. Rebecca Chambers and those like her played for keeps.

      “Austin, I—”

      “Don’t worry about it, honey. Just tell me why you’re here.”

      Her eyebrows drew together in a delicate frown. She reminded him of a porcelain doll come to life. He would do well to keep thinking of her as off-limits, he told himself as the collar of her robe parted slightly, allowing him a view of her pale throat.

      “Because of the fire.”

      “Fire?” He jerked his thoughts back from their erotic journey and concentrated on what she was saying.

      “The one in town a few days ago. I’m sure you heard about it.”

      “Just that a couple of old buildings burned down.” He shrugged. “I’ve been working hard this week, and I haven’t been to town.”

      “Oh.”

      She took another sip of her coffee, then set the mug on the table in front of her. As she bent forward, the robe gaped more, allowing him to see down the front. She had a small build, but the shape of her breasts was perfect. Creamy ivory crested in coral. His mouth grew dry. He clenched his hands into fists and wished to hell she