Beauty and the Wolf / Their Miracle Twins. Nikki Logan

as he drew back a few inches.

      “Have you?” she whispered. His thick, dark lashes were half lowered as he cupped her chin in his palm and stroked his thumb over her cheek. She shivered. The faintly rough pad of his thumb moved against her sensitive skin, stirring heat in her midsection. His lashes lifted, his gaze leaving her mouth and lifting to meet hers. Desire, hot and alive, lit his eyes. Her skin warmed, flushing under his stare.

      “Eli, I don’t want to mistake what’s happening here.” Her voice was a soft murmur. “We agreed to pretend we’re attracted to each other to fool Harry—but at the moment, he’s not here. It’s just the two of us.”

      “Frankie,” he muttered, his fingertips trailing down her throat. “Just so we’re clear—this has nothing to do with Harry.” His gaze flicked to the base of her throat, where his thumb stroked over the fast race of her pulse. “I want you.”

      His blunt words widened Frankie’s eyes and sent heat flooding through her body. “Eli, I don’t—”

      He stopped her with a fingertip across her lips. “I’m not saying I want out of our deal to fool Harry. I just want you to know that if I’m kissing you—” he paused, his eyes going hotter “—or anything else physical, I’m not acting.”

      Frankie’s gaze searched his face but found only sincere, focused intent. Much as she was tempted to tell him she wanted him, too, she was scared to death of opening that door. Desire warred with a deep conviction that she needed to protect her heart.

      But if she wanted to move past her schoolgirl crush, maybe she needed to be a little more daring. Perhaps limited lovemaking with Eli would inoculate her against another full-blown crush, she thought.

      Or maybe she was rationalizing because she desperately wanted more of his kisses. Whatever it was, Frankie decided to take a chance.

      “Okay,” she murmured. He didn’t move, his gaze fixed on hers. Although his thumb continued to stroke seductively against her throat, he clearly waited for her to respond further. She’d never had a conversation quite like this with any man she’d dated but decided to be equally blunt with him. “I’m not ready to sleep with you yet.”

      “All right.”

      His body had tensed with her words, his restraint palpable as he waited.

      She slipped her arms around his neck, her fingers testing the heavy silk of his dark hair. “Just so we’re clear, when we’re alone, I’m not pretending, either. And I’m sure I’m ready for more kissing.” His muscles tightened against hers. “Maybe some serious fooling around?” she ventured.

      A half smile tilted his lips. “I’ll take whatever I can get,” he murmured before he lifted her, settling her across his lap, and his mouth took hers.

      When Eli left Frankie’s condo several hours later, he was aroused and hungry, but he’d managed to keep his vow to honor Frankie’s decision not to make love.

      How the hell he’d kept from seducing her on the sofa, or the carpet or any other available flat surface, he had no idea. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted a woman this badly, nor when he’d been so turned on just by kissing.

      He drove home and went to bed, but his dreams were hot and vividly sexual.

      And all of them featured making love with Frankie.

      After one last sizzling good-night kiss, Frankie closed the door behind Eli and slumped against the wood panels. When she straightened, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her hair was disheveled and tumbled to her shoulders; her mouth was deeply pink and faintly swollen from the pressure of Eli’s lips; her eyes were heavy-lidded and her skin flushed.

      She’d barely managed to keep from begging him to make love to her, and if he’d pushed, she wasn’t sure she could have said no.

      Which meant she needed to decide how she felt about him while he wasn’t in the same room, because she obviously lost the ability to think clearly when he was kissing her.

      She needed to talk to her sisters, badly.

      Frankie picked up the phone and tapped in half the numbers for Tommi before she remembered to look at the clock.

      Ten-thirty. On a Friday night. She couldn’t call her sister this late. Tommi was five months’ pregnant, probably exhausted from a long day at her thriving restaurant and, if she was lucky, her guy was rubbing her feet and feeding her chocolates right about now.

      Since Max adored Tommi, Frankie was pretty sure he was taking good care of her sister, and she didn’t want to disrupt their time together. Tommi deserved to be cherished and coddled.

      She’d talked to Georgie at work earlier that day and knew she had plans to go out that evening.

      And that left Bobbie—but Frankie suspected her younger sister and her new husband were also probably engaged in newlywed bliss at the moment.

      Where are the Fairchild women when I need them? She sighed and returned the phone to its base. Her two younger sisters were dizzy with happiness, partnered with men who adored them. Frankie couldn’t be happier for them.

      But having her sisters busy left Frankie with no one to confide in.

      Sighing, she walked into the bathroom. A few moments later, she’d changed into pajamas and climbed into bed, switching off the lamp to stare at the dark ceiling.

      Suddenly, she sat bolt upright.

      Lily, she realized with delight. She could talk to Lily about Eli. Not only had Lily gone through turmoil before she and Justin had worked out their difficulties to happily marry, but she also knew Eli very well.

      She was scheduled to have a playdate with Ava the following morning. They’d arranged to meet at Lily’s boutique in Ballard—she could arrive early and, hopefully, have a private conversation with Lily before Justin dropped off Ava.

      Relieved that she had a plan, Frankie closed her eyes. Her evening with Eli continued to replay itself behind her lowered eyelids, however, and it was some time before she finally fell asleep.