Worth the Risk_ A Contemporary - Megan Hart Page 0,34

to say they were already using it for the love seat.

It didn't seem there'd be much choice. She wasn't going to let Hal freeze out here all night long, not when the bed was more than large enough for the two of them. Sharing the bed makes sense, Laila told herself. For warmth.

When he emerged from the bathroom, Laila pointed to the bed. "I moved your stuff here."

He didn't get it at first, she could tell by the look of confusion. "But..."

She made it easier for both of them. "It's freezing in here, Hal. We can share the bed until they fix the radiator tomorrow. It'll be warmer."

It certainly would, she thought, watching Hal's chest. Despite the chilly room, he'd forgotten his shirt again. She'd never thought much about male nipples before, but now, seeing them tight with cold, Lily kept imagining how they'd taste.

He'd said something to her and she'd missed it. "Sorry?"

"I said, how do you want to do it?"

Was he asking her--what on earth was he asking her? "What?"

Hal pointed. "Do you want to sleep on the side next to the window or the bathroom?"

"Oh." She was too embarrassed to admit her mind had been in the gutter. "Bathroom side, I guess."

They got into bed gingerly. Laila turned out the lights, settled back against her pillow, and tugged the heavy layers of blankets up around her chin. Hal's weight beside her was an unusual sensation, but not uncomfortable. Despite her heightened awareness, the stress of the past few days weighed her eyelids down. She felt herself drifting off to sleep.

Someone dumped a bucket of ice onto her bare calves. Laila yelped and sat up. "What the hell?"

Hal rolled away from her. "My feet. Sorry."

"They're like ice!" Laila grumbled, all vestiges of sleep chased away. "Don't you wear socks to bed?"

"Can't," Hal said matter-of-factly. "It gives me athlete's foot."

Ew. Okay, if the icy feet hadn't banished romantic dreams from her mind, that little revelation sure had. Laila sighed, sinking back into her pillow.

"Just keep them on your own side," she said.

Hal rustled around, shifting the covers and rolling in the bed. Laila waited for him to finish before adjusting her own pillow and share of the blankets. By the time they were done, she was just beginning to feel her eyes slipping shut again.

"Hal!" She shrieked. "Your feet!"

"Sorry," Hal said. "But you're so warm."

"Your own side," Laila warned.

Hal stayed still for a moment before she heard the sound of snapping fingers. "I've got it."

He got out of bed and fumbled around the foot of the bed. She heard him stub his toe, mutter a curse, then finally trip over his suitcase. She heard the zipper, then shuffling. Her heart began pounding again. What was he doing?

Then he was back in bed. She heard the sound of foil crinkling. Laila's heart was going to beat right out of her chest!

"This should help," Hal said.

More foil crinkling.

Laila braced herself. Was he going to kiss her? Or just roll over on top of her and--

"Here," Hal said, slipping something into her hand.

It was hot, whatever it was, and Laila reflexively jerked away. "What is it?"

"It's a hand warmer," Hal said in the darkness. "Why? What did you think it would be?"

A hand warmer. Who on earth packed hand warmers in their suitcase? Hal, that's who. Mr. Eagle Scout. Mr. Prepared.

"Nothing," Laila said and tucked the warm plastic packet down to the foot of the bed. "Good night, Hal."

Chapter 7

Lying next to Laila all night should have kept Hal awake, but there had been too many early mornings and uneasy nights lately. He slept like the dead. When he finally awoke, the morning sun shone through the lace curtains and cast a golden glow over the entire room.

His nose felt like an ice cube, but since that was the only thing sticking out from the mountain of covers, everything else was toasty warm. He yawned, stretching, and realized he actually felt--good. His hand didn't encounter a lump under the covers with him. Laila must already be up.

"Good morning," he said to the room. Hal found his glasses on the nightstand and slipped them on, bringing everything into focus.

Laila, wearing a thick, bulky sweater, heavy pants and a scowl, sat on the loveseat. She had her hands wrapped around a mug of some dark beverage, and it steamed in the room's frosty air. She didn't look happy.

"Good morning?" The greeting had become a question. Despite his current career, Hal didn't know much about