Carried Away. Donna Kauffman

carefully held her arms out and delivered her best smile. Maybe making him sweat was going to be more fun than she thought. “I think the Band-Aid approach is best. Just yank.”

      He looked up at her then and she felt her stomach drop and her heart begin to pound. Here she was, standing in a church, in a fancy dress, with a gorgeous man on one knee in front of her. Scowling. She couldn’t get anything right.

      “Hold on to my shoulders,” he directed. “If I can roll this up a bit, maybe then you can, you know, take it from there.”

      His hands, with those long fingers…all up and down her thighs. Jesus, she’d never survive it without disgracing herself. But then, that wasn’t much of a stretch at the moment, was it? “Okay, okay.” She took a deep breath, or as deep a one as the dress would allow. “But close your eyes.”

      He grabbed hold of the hem and shoved upward, but the fabric stopped just below crotch level, bound tightly around her hips. She wobbled and came dangerously close to pitching forward, which would have pressed his face…well, right where no man should have his face when inside a church. “Stop, stop,” she said breathlessly. “Get me out of these shoes.” She should have done that first anyway.

      He did, all warm fingertips brushing at her skin, sending a tingling sensation all the way up to…well, where his face had almost been moments ago. Who knew ankles were erogenous zones?

      She came dangerously close to moaning when she felt his warm breath on her skin as his fingers slid around her ankle to unbuckle one shoe, then the other. As it was, she had to sink her nails more deeply into his uniformed shoulders just to remain upright.

      “Hold on, one more buckle. Got it.” He stood carefully, apparently oblivious to the near orgasm he’d just given her.

      She really did need to get to bed. Alone, she quickly amended as she stepped gingerly and oh-so-very thankfully out of the instruments of death. She’d never been so glad to feel the ground so firm and cold beneath her toes. “Okay, here’s the plan,” she said, trying hard to focus on just getting out of the shrink-wrap with as little touching on his part as possible. “I’m going to put the robe on and pull the shoulder straps off and roll the dress down to my waist. Then I’ll push and you pull and the whole thing should drop off, right?”

      He looked dubious.

      “It’s that or cut the damn thing off. I’d rather not do that to Viv’s dress. Who knows, maybe she can get a refund or…or something. Let’s just try, okay?”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      “Great. And stop ma’aming me. Makes me feel like an old granny or something.”

      He grinned then, just before dropping the robe over her head. “Trust me,” he said, his voice muffled by the voluminous folds of white cotton. “You’re nothing like any grandmother I’ve ever seen. It’s just habit. Military.”

      She wisely said nothing as she squirmed out of the dress straps, keeping her arms inside the robe. She’d shrugged out of her tank top straps when she’d put this monstrosity on, and tucked them inside the dress. But she couldn’t untuck them now. Why should that surprise her? She tried to tug the top part down, but while the front part was willing—her boobs were thrilled to finally be free—the sides and back were all hung up with the cotton of her undershirt.

      “Should I tug now?”

      “Just a minute.” She tugged a scrap of tank top from the front and held on tight to it. “Close your eyes.”

      She felt his fingertips brush her thighs again. “Eyes closed,” he said.

      She realized hers were, too. “On three. One, two—now!”

      She gripped, he yanked…and the dress gave way and fell to the floor. Right along with her panties.

      “Just, uh, just turn around, okay? I can take it from here.”

      She opened her eyes as he stood, gulping a little when he seemed suddenly so much taller than before. The heels, she realized. She was not a small woman and it was odd to feel so…petite. Well, not that she’d ever be described as petite, but maybe it was all relative.

      “You okay? You look a little flushed.”

      “Oxygen deprivation,” she quipped, not bothering to tell him that he, and not the dress, was more to blame for that little problem. She shifted and stood over the pool of sequins…and her panties. “I…um…” Damn, but his eyes were piercing. “Could you…turn around?”

      He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

      She made a face at his back. It was that or smile. And was that uniform padded, or were his shoulders really that broad? They filled her entire line of vision. But she’d had her hands on those shoulders. They were all his.

      She hastily pulled on her panties and scooped up the pile of sequins and silk, along with the strappy heels. Clutching the billowy robe against her, she said, “I’m ready.” He turned to face her and all she could think was, Boy, am I ever. Sleep. She desperately needed sleep.

      He held out an arm, all spit and polish and blazing baby blues. “I had someone bring my car around back. It’s right outside the door here. I’ll take you directly home.”

      She wasn’t sure she should touch any part of him. She wanted to, though. So much so that she gestured in front of them instead. “Lead on.”

      He moved to open her door, but she scooted in front of him, climbed in and all but lunged for the seat belt. “I got it.” She reached for the door handle and yanked the door shut in his face. She didn’t even care if it seemed rude. Lord knows he deserved worse, she told herself, no matter how charming and polite he was being now. But no way was he going to touch her again. Sleep. That was what she was going to focus on.

      She let her head drop on the back of the seat and closed her eyes, pretending she didn’t know he’d climbed in beside her, all big and warm, with those long fingers wrapped around that steering wheel.

      “Listen, I really do want to apologize.”

      “Just get me in bed and all is forgiven.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized how they sounded. Her eyes popped open and she sat up straight. “I mean—”

      He glanced at her and smiled. “I know what you meant.”

      She opened her mouth, realized saying anything right now would just make it worse, and let her head drop back again.

      He remained mercifully silent on the short ride back to Vivian’s. She was drifting off to sleep when he pulled into the driveway.

      “Christy?”

      She stifled a yawn and blinked her eyes open. “Here already?” She was so tired she wasn’t sure she’d make it to the bed. Of course, no way was she letting him know that.

      “You did want to come back here, right?”

      She nodded. “I’m having the floors redone at my place and they didn’t get the sanding done on time, so they were still staining and sealing them when I got home…whatever day it was. I’ve lost track. Vivian let me bunk here.”

      “You’re obviously beat and it’s my fault I’ve kept you from catching up on your sleep. I am sincerely sorry.”

      She smiled to herself. She was daydreaming about him carrying her off in his arms…and he was telling her she looked about as delectable as day-old bread. Ah, reality. “I know Kate can make even the sanest person go a little nuts when she gets a plan in her head. She should be the one apologizing. To all of us.”

      “Let me help you inside.”

      “No!” At his surprised look, she calmed down and smiled. “I can take it from here.” She put her hand on the door. “Just how did you get in anyway? Or is that just part of military training?”

      “Back door