Midnight Hero - By Diana Duncan Page 0,43
he was. She, on the other hand, was changing by the moment.
Keeping one arm around her, he guided her into JCPenney. He extracted a flashlight from his pack and shone the beam over racks of clothing. Cloaked in shadow, everything looked creepy and weirdly out of proportion.
She’d fantasized about being alone in the mall, able to shop at leisure with no crowds, noise or distractions. The real thing didn’t quite pan out. She visually tracked the light, trying to get her bearings. “I’m disoriented.”
“A combination of shock, hypothermia and lack of nourishment. When you’re dry and fed, you’ll bounce back.” He grabbed unisex black jeans, black turtlenecks and black sweatshirts in his size and hers from a bottom row of wooden cubbies sheltered from the sprinklers. “We’ll layer to stay warm.”
He opened a bag of thick wool socks and retrieved women’s lightweight lug-soled boots from a shoebox underneath the boot display to replace her sheer hose and feminine leather slip-ons. “You’ll not only be warmer, but able to move faster in these.”
Dry undergarments were also a necessity. Embarrassment tweaked her, but Con’s matter of fact attitude in the men’s department banished her self-consciousness. Until they headed to women’s lingerie and he plucked a frothy, pink silk teddy from a rack. “It’s your favorite color.”
“That doesn’t look very warm.”
“Believe me, sweetheart, wearing this little number, you would not be cold. My personal guarantee.”
“It’s wet.”
“In some cases, that’s not considered a disadvantage.”
She smirked at him. “Take my word for it, Irish. I doubt you’ll need any help there.”
“Ooh, I love it when you talk naughty, slugger.” Laughing, he extracted a package from a bin, tore it open and brandished a pair of tiny black lace panties. He stretched them across his hands. “Hmm. These feel…comfortable. Look sexy, too. I can picture you wearing them. Great picture.”
The erotic sparkle in his eyes made heat bloom in her cheeks. He caressed her with his glowing mahogany gaze and the heat spread, tingling through her limbs. The man smoldered. It was impossible to remain disheartened bathed in the light of his open appreciation. Not to mention the uplifting effect of his flying quips and flashing grins.
She snatched the underwear from him. “Get your hands out of my pants.”
He laughed. “Spoilsport.”
She found a packaged black stretch lace camisole to go with the panties, and Con expressed his enthusiastic approval.
Arms piled high, they entered a fitting room. Con propped the flashlight on a chair so it partially illuminated the first two cubicles. He shot her a mischievous grin. “Need any help?” He flexed his fingers. “All the better to undress you, my dear.”
If only he knew how tempting his offer was. How overwhelming the desire to have his hands on her. “Remember what happened to that wolf.”
“I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow—” He snorted. “Nuh-uh. I’m not touching that one with a ten-foot pole.”
“Braggart. Anyway, you’re mixing up your wolves. That was a whole other story.”
“I’ll reenact any story you want. I’ve always been partial to the Kama Sutra.”
“Have you seen some of the impossible positions…” Flushing, she trailed off.
“So you have read it.”
“I consider myself a well-read person in every area of life.”
“Glad to hear it.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Now, about those positions…care to name your top five?”
She’d seen a few that looked intriguing. Had imagined her and Con entwined in intimate, exciting love play. Adventurous O’Rourke would take her anywhere she wanted to go. And then some. “I’m game if you are. I do yoga exercises every day, so I’m pretty flexible. Think you can keep up?”
“Just try and keep me down, darlin’,” he drawled.
When Con looked at her like that, all sparkling mischief and smoky sex appeal, she wanted to pounce on him. Gobble him up like a hamster on a Cheeto. Unfortunately, this was the wrong time, wrong place. Arching a brow, she returned his grin. “Maybe you can show me that upstanding flexibility later.”
He tweaked one of her curls. “You’re racking up quite an account, you know.”
“I’m good for it. I have excellent credit.”
Chuckling, he strode into the second cubicle, leaving the first for her.
She struggled out of her damp clothing. With only a thin, three-quarter partition between them, she could hear the rustle of fabric as Con also stripped. Her stomach dipped and her knees went weak, and not from lack of food. The knowledge of him so near, naked, sent longing spiraling through her. If only they could escape. Talk things out. Laugh and love