Worth the Risk_ A Contemporary - Megan Hart Page 0,40

towel Hal had given her to her chest, but he still knew she was naked. He backed off the bed hastily, turning around. He made a great pretense of putting away the oil and wiping his hands before daring to turn around.

She hadn't put her robe back on. Her dark hair caressed her shoulders. Laila's eyes were glazed, her lips as plump and pink as if she'd just been kissed.

Baseball, Hal thought furiously. Hockey. World Series. Stanley Cup. Games on the big screen TV at Hooters--hooters--no! Cold showers. Aunt Millie in her bathing suit--

"Hal," Laila said. "Come here."

His mind screamed no, but his feet said yes. They led him to where Laila sat. She patted the bed, and he sat where she wanted him.

"I know the LoveMatch rules," she said in a husky voice. "Ms. Whitehead was very clear about what an escort will and will not do."

Hal coughed. "Uh-huh."

Laila smiled enigmatically. He could see the euphoria of the massage still lingering in the glaze of her eyes and the way she licked her lips. She looked a little drunk. I did that, Hal thought, and his body responded.

"Hal?"

"Yes, Laila."

"Why did you kiss me after the carriage ride?"

He found it hard to speak with a mouth that wanted nothing else but to kiss her again. "Because I wanted to."

"Do you want to now?" Laila asked.

He nodded, unable to answer.

"Then do it," Laila breathed. "Please."

If he'd had any other ideas, they fled from his mind as if they were shadows facing the noonday sun. Kissing Laila was better than eating ice cream on a summer day. Slipping between flannel sheets on a cold night. Having his hair washed by a beautician with strong fingers. Every pleasure in Hal's life paled in comparison to the feeling of Laila's lips on his.

"Are you sure?" He found the strength to ask, needing to hear the confirmation.

She didn't say anything. Instead, she dropped her towel. Hal took that as a yes.

Chapter 8

When Hal kissed Laila, he did it as though they were the only two people in the entire world. He made it easy for her to block everything out, to lose herself in the sensations sweeping over her. That was what Laila wanted to do. Lose herself.

He paused only briefly to take his glasses off and put them on the nightstand. Laila took the opportunity to catch her breath. That was when she noticed she was completely naked and he was still fully clothed.

"This won't work," she said.

Hal sighed. His shoulders slumped. "I knew you were going to say that."

He did? Laila shook her head and reached out to tug on the front of his shirt. "No, Hal. I mean that this won't work with you still dressed."

She figured she must be nothing more than a vague blur to him, so she moved closer. His mouth was sweet, his lips full and soft. She loved the feeling of his smoothly shaved face against her own.

Alone in the steaming hot bathtub, waiting for Hal to return, she'd thought about doing this. Since Ian's death, Laila's life had been devoid of passion, of intimacy. Making love to Hal would finally set her free from the cage of guilt she'd trapped herself in three years before.

His mouth left hers to trail along her jaw, then down to the exquisitely tender spot just below her ear. Laila shivered, clutching at his shoulders. He knew just where to kiss her, how to touch her, just as if he'd taken classes. And who knows? she thought a little foolishly. Maybe he had.

"Laila," Hal whispered in her ear. "I need to know you're sure about this."

"I'm sure."

She'd never been more certain about anything in her life. She couldn't go on living in the past, grieving for a love that hadn't blossomed. The guilt she felt over Ian's death had far too long kept her from seeking and finding joy. What she and Hal might have tonight wouldn't-- couldn't--be permanent. It wasn't love. But it would be close enough.

Now his mouth trailed along the curve of her collarbone, and when he flicked his tongue along her skin, Laila could not stifle a cry. He pulled away, working at the buttons on his shirt with fumbling fingers. A button popped off, hitting her spang in the chest.

"Let me," Laila said. "Let's get through this without injury, okay?"

He did laugh, and that was one of the reasons Laila knew her decision to open herself to him had been right. Hal was a good man.