Fevered Nights. Jillian BurnsЧитать онлайн книгу.
some more nachos?” Neil spoke loudly into her ear over the shouting fans and the stomp of athletes’ shoes on the court.
She glanced down at her empty plastic tray, and then shook her head. “I can’t believe I ate all this.” She’d have to begin a liquid diet tomorrow.
“How long are you in town? Are you doing a photo shoot, or just handing out trophies to schmucks like me?”
“I fly to Sweden next week. But I may not fit into the lingerie after all this.” She patted her stomach.
After studying her a moment, Neil took the empty tray and cup from her. “Be right back.” He got up and disappeared down the corridor beside their floor section.
Had she ruined everything by admitting that? But what was there to ruin? It was a couple of dates. She was leaving in a few days. So was he.
Then, why did she feel as if she might’ve just lost something important?
He returned empty-handed a few minutes later, taking his seat beside her and smiling as if she hadn’t just admitted to all her bad behavior.
“I thought maybe I’d disgusted you.”
He whipped around to stare at her incredulously. “No way.” He took her hand and grasped it between both of his. They were such masculine hands. Tanned and rough, with a light dusting of hair on his fingers. So confident. So capable.
“You’re what, twenty-five?” he asked.
“Twenty-three.”
“Jeez, you’re a kid.”
“Then, why do I feel so ancient?” She finally looked up at him. Her breath hitched at the intensity of his gaze.
“Hey, I don’t know anyone who didn’t pull some stupid stunts when they were young. You just had more money and more people watching you than the rest of us.”
A lump of emotion tightened her throat. There was that feeling again. Safe. Protected. Everything would be all right. She squeezed his hand.
When everyone jumped to their feet and cheered loudly, he remained seated, his attention on her. “You’ve done a lot of living in your twenty-three years, huh?”
Had she? In terms of all the things she really wanted to do, she’d barely lived at all. Besides, nothing else mattered until she found her brother. She refused to think Nandan might not be alive. Was he hurting, though? Hungry? Wondering why she didn’t come find him? The latest report from her private investigators had turned up nothing new. She couldn’t think about what might have happened to Nandan without wanting a drink.
“Hey, you okay?” Neil tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.
She made herself smile. “Brilliant.”
Checking a thick complex-looking silver watch on his left wrist, he stood and then tugged her up. “It’s late, Piper. Let’s get you home.”
Home. Her hotel room wasn’t home. But neither was her flat in London. Not yet. Not without her brother. “But the game isn’t over. Aren’t they going to play off tonight?”
His demeanor lightened and he tipped his head back and laughed. The crinkles around his eyes and brackets by his mouth deepened when he smiled. His straight white teeth dazzled against his tanned face. Laughing. Smiling. He seemed so easygoing, so carefree. So...normal. She wanted that.
Quickly frowning, he swiped a hand over his rugged chin. “What? Did I get mustard somewhere?”
He looked so adorably self-conscious that she giggled and reached up to touch his cheek. “No, you’re fine.”
He stilled and covered her hand with his. “Come back to my place tonight.”
Well, that answered that. After the kiss in the limo, he clearly expected bad-girl Piper to fall right into bed with him.
Cameras flashed. Reporters closed in.
Neil glared at them all. She jerked her hand away, clearing her expression, adopting a cool nonchalance.
Being seen with a navy hero for her career was one thing. Letting herself feel something for him was quite another. And she’d already made a fool of herself over Brad. What was the saying? Fool me once... Fool me twice...
Twisting around to grab her bag, she repaired the chink in the armor around her heart. “I think I should just go back to my hotel,” she said as she straightened.
The heat left his eyes and he smiled. “Sure.”
* * *
NEIL COULD TAKE a hint. The lady wasn’t interested. He’d like to sweep her off her feet, carry her to her room and make love to her in her bed all night long, but he’d received her message loud and clear.
Still, this time he was determined to walk her to her door. She frowned at him when he stepped into the elevator beside her. He wanted to reassure her, palms up, “Just seeing a lady to her door, that’s all.”
She blinked at him, that funny look in her eyes again. As if she didn’t believe he was for real. He figured the lady had been lied to one too many times. But he could wander around in those light green eyes of hers for days and never care that he was lost. When she focused her attention on him, he couldn’t seem to care much about anything else.
As they reached her door, she fidgeted with her key card, avoiding his gaze. “I had a marvelous time tonight, Neil. Thank you.” Her smile was purely for show. What was going on here?
“Piper.” He cupped her elbow, laid his other hand gently along her jaw. “Whether you sleep with me or not, I still want to see you again.” He inched closer, lowering his head, bringing his lips within millimeters of hers, but he didn’t make contact. This time it had to be her decision.
Her lids closed and her mouth touched his. The kiss was combustible. Deep, full of need and something else. A longing. Maybe just for sex, but it felt like more. As if she was asking him for something, but he didn’t know what.
He took her face between his palms and angled his head, craving her. As he moved down the column of her throat kissing her, she gave a sigh and then abruptly stepped back.
“Good night, Neil.”
Before he could formulate a question, she inserted her key card into the lock and disappeared behind the door.
Neil stood there, his body aching, his mind confused.
Some bad girl she was turning out to be.
But he felt more alive than he had in years.
“AND WHAT’S UP these days with everybody’s favorite bad girl, Desiree’s Desire supermodel Piper?”
Neil froze with a fork full of scrambled eggs midway to his mouth and stared at the fifty-inch television mounted on the wall of the hotel’s breakfast room.
Two chirpy morning-show hosts were seated on a bright yellow sofa before the screen switched to a photo of Piper posing in a set of dark red lacy lingerie.
“She’s been seen on the arm of a true American hero, a navy SEAL and son of a Virginia senator. Is Piper renouncing her wicked ways?”
“Or,” the second host continued as more photos flashed on the screen, “is the senator’s son living la vida loca down in Miami?” The photos were of Neil and Piper at the basketball game and outside the Saint-Tropez.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу