Pregnant by the Playboy Tycoon. Anne Oliver

arms through the openings in the vest on the way. Steve joined her a couple of minutes later with the quilt—her bedroom quilt with the extra down filling that seemed to shrink the limited space even further.

      ‘Slide your seat back.’ His breath tickled her ear and his hands looked big and dark and masculine on the familiar pink floral fabric as he adjusted it over them both.

      Whoa. Her whole body went rigid; her heart stalled. It was like being in bed with him. She only had to lean a little more to the left to find out how his lips would feel against hers, and she was tempted. She’d never acted out anything like that in her life.

      ‘The steering wheel’s going to get in your way,’ he said patiently. ‘And if we want to maximise the quilt’s effectiveness we need to be close.’

      ‘Close?’ she repeated, her eyes drifting to his mouth again. Her voice came out as a whisper.

      Then she realised he was waiting for her to oblige with the seat. She slid it back a couple of notches so that they were shoulder to shoulder. His heat burned through her jumper where they touched. Only the handbrake prevented their thighs from abrading. Thank heavens. She remained rod-stiff, closed her eyes and counted. One, two—

      ‘I won’t hurt you, Anneliese.’

      The tenderness and absolute sincerity in his voice slid over her like the finest silk on polished wood. ‘I know that. You’re Cindy’s brother.’

      A pause while he shifted—probably to a different angle—bumping her shoulder, but she wasn’t looking, so she didn’t know. Except…she could feel his gaze on her face, could hear the slow rise and fall of his breathing.

      ‘Do you only ever see me as Cindy’s brother?’ he said into the silence.

      Oh, not a fair question. ‘Since I only see you when I’m with Cindy, the answer’s yes.’

      ‘Interesting.’

      ‘Isn’t that how you see me? As Cindy’s friend?’ She opened her eyes to find herself looking into direct and piercing eyes, his normally amber gaze coal-dark in the dimness, and swallowed.

      ‘We’re not with Cindy now.’

      Anneliese’s heart stumbled against her ribcage and she looked away, into the night. That was his answer?

      Whatever it was—a mistake, a slip of the tongue, an accusation—seemed to snap his patience. He shifted abruptly and his tone changed yet again. ‘I often wonder how it is that the two of you hit it off so well.’

      Her gaze swung back to him. ‘I often wonder how you two can be brother and sister.’

      He smiled. And, oh…my… The corners of his eyes crinkled, his mouth tipped up boyishly, revealing an endearingly crooked tooth. She’d never noticed that before, she thought hazily. Something stirred along her skin, fluttered in her breast, and she found herself smiling back.

      ‘I’ve wondered the same thing myself.’ He shook his head, warmth and affection for Cindy radiating from those twinkling eyes. ‘Maybe I was adopted.’

      Anneliese’s smile froze. Her veins turned to ice. The almost relaxed warmth she’d been enjoying seeped away, leaving her chilled to the bone. She was elbow-jostling and knee-bumping and breathing the same air with another human being, yet she’d never felt so desolate.

      ‘Hey. What’s wrong?’ His own smile faded, his eyes narrowed and he reached out, touched a finger to her cheek.

      The sensation of being touched, of normal human contact, tempered the pain of the past moment, but she stiffened and drew back, afraid of her own unstable emotions. Afraid of him. His heat, his proximity, his potent and unfamiliar brand of masculinity.

      She didn’t want Steve getting in the way of what she had to do. She didn’t want Steve, period. She just wanted to reach her destination.

      ‘Nothing’s wrong. My stomach’s talking to me,’ she lied, patting her middle. ‘In fact it’s howling.’ She summoned up a casual demeanour and voice to match. ‘I’m going to have to admit you were right and beg a couple of squares of that chocolate you so prudently purchased this morning.’

      He studied her as if trying to read meaning into her sudden turnabouts of the past few moments, then his mouth quirked and he said, ‘You mean that calorie-laden one with the delicious caramel filling? All we’ve got to eat between us until mid-morning at least?’

      She bit her lip, her mouth already watering as she suddenly realised she was hungry. ‘Yes. I have a half a bottle of water. I’m willing to share if you are.’

      ‘Deal.’ He switched on the interior light, opened the glovebox and withdrew a well-depleted block. ‘Let’s see.’ He peeled back the wrapping. ‘Six squares. That’s two now, one each for breakf—’

      ‘Only six?’ She stared at him, incredulous. ‘How many were there?’

      ‘A lot more,’ he said with a rueful shake of his head. ‘I’m afraid chocolate’s my number one indulgence.’ He broke off a couple of squares, lifted them to her lips with a grin. ‘Shall we indulge together?’

      Her mouth dropped open in shock and suddenly the air was thick with all the possibilities that conjured. The image smouldered in her brain and took hold. She just had to reach out to slip her hand inside the open neck of that disreputable shirt. To pop the top button and climb on top of him and lay her caramel-coated tongue along his collar-bone while he returned the favour with his hands. Inside her blouse, beneath her bra, then—No!

      Panic-stricken, her eyes shot to his. The heated gleam in his dark gaze told her all she didn’t need to know—shared fantasy. Her nipples hardened, the pulse in her neck beat double time. Without thought, she ran her tongue around dry lips, drawing his gaze to her mouth. ‘You said one square each…’ It was a sultry voice she’d never heard before coming out of her mouth. ‘That’s two.’

      ‘It’s too soft to break further without making a mess.’ His voice was deeper, too, as he touched the chocolate to her lips. ‘Bite off your half.’

      She did as he asked and couldn’t control the murmur of delight as the smooth creamy texture flowed over her tongue. Then she saw him pop the remainder into his mouth. His eyelids dipped and she heard his low growl of approval as he savoured the experience. The same way he might when being worked over by a lover…

      Heat spread through her body and her mouth went dry. She swallowed, barely managed to say ‘water?’ as she withdrew the depleted bottle from the door’s pocket.

      ‘After you.’

      She unscrewed the top, downed a self-conscious mouthful while he watched. Sucked in a breath while he watched her wipe the moisture from her lips with her fingers. She handed the bottle to him, careful to avoid contact because right now sparks were a high—and dangerous—possibility.

      It was almost a relief when they’d both finished, he’d switched off the light and they’d settled an arm’s space apart beneath the quilt’s warmth in the semi-darkness. She couldn’t help the sigh that escaped.

      ‘Are you tired?’ Steve asked. ‘You can nap—I’ll keep watch.’

      Yes, she was. But she doubted she could sleep even if she wanted to, and no way was she going to let herself succumb to unconsciousness with Steve watching. ‘I’m fine.’ Though it might be preferable to this silent awareness that surrounded them. Outside the wind whistled around the car, leaves swirled along the rough road, but inside their shared warmth beneath the quilt created an intimacy that bordered on pain.

      ‘Okay. So, I’ve admitted mine—what’s your weakness, Anneliese?’

      His question caught her unawares and took her a moment to think past the first thought that flared in her mind—you—which was crazy, and not one she wanted to think about. Especially now, if ever.

      ‘Red