Two of a Kind. Susan MalleryЧитать онлайн книгу.
liked to think it would have been the other guy but figured he would have taken the brunt of the attack. At that point he’d been out of the game for several years. He’d been in good shape but not honed like Justice. He doubted Ford would have taken sides, although he probably would have prevented them from killing each other. A cold comfort, he thought.
“Now you and I are here,” he said.
“Not a coincidence. You and Justice both know Ford. Justice met him when he was a teenager and lived here for a while.”
Gideon had heard the story. Justice had been in the witness protection program, which had relocated him to Fool’s Gold. A perfect place to hide, Gideon thought. No one would think to look for him in such an idyllic town.
All these years later, Justice had returned, fallen in love with Patience, a girl he’d cared about in high school. Talk about a sappy story. Yet it was a situation that Gideon found himself envying. Justice had found peace—something Gideon knew would always elude him. On the surface he looked like everyone else, but he knew what was inside. He knew that he couldn’t risk caring. Love made a man weak and ultimately killed him. Gideon couldn’t afford to take the risk.
She tucked her hair behind her ears. “Ford talked to you about Fool’s Gold and you came to check it out.”
He had, and he’d liked what he’d seen. The touristy town was big enough to have what he needed and small enough that he could exist on the fringes of belonging. He could be a part of things and yet separate.
“Are you going to take the job?” he asked.
“I want to.” Her voice had a quality of longing.
“You should. You’ll do well. It’s mostly logistics and you excel at getting things done.”
“You can’t know that,” she said.
He shrugged. “I asked Ford about you. That’s pretty much all he would tell me.”
“Oh. That makes sense.” She twisted a strand of hair around her finger. “I’m not worried about the operation part of the job. It’s everything else. I’m not good with emotions. I’m too in my head.” She ducked her head. “I wish I was more like you. In the moment. You don’t seem like you need to think everything through. That’s nice.”
He wasn’t allowing himself to be in the moment right now, he thought grimly. If he did, he would already have her naked and moaning. He would have explored every inch of her body before settling with his mouth between her legs.
Blood surged at the image. He wanted to hear her breathing hitch as she got closer. He wanted to feel her tensing before she shattered, her mind nothing more than a hazy mess of pleasure.
“Gideon?”
He forced himself back to the present. “I could teach you some breathing techniques that might help.”
She laughed.
The sweet, happy sound filled the silence of the night. It was the kind of sound that could save a man, he realized. Or bring him to his knees.
The need grew and, with it, the understanding that he couldn’t take the risk.
“It’s late,” he told her.
“I’m aware of the time. The movement of the stars and the moon are a clear...” Her humor faded. “Oh, you’re asking me to leave.”
“You have a long drive back.”
She stood. “It’s three-point-seven miles, but that’s not the point. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you so long. Thanks for talking to me. It helped.”
He felt as if he’d kicked a kitten. “Felicia, don’t read too much into this.” He rose. “Look. Like you said, it’s complicated.”
She looked into his eyes. “People say that when they don’t want to tell the truth.”
The truth? Tension had returned and, with it, his arousal. Restlessness made him want to move, but he knew the value of staying still.
She put her hand on his shoulder, then moved her fingers to his biceps. “You’re very powerful. More muscled than Justice. His body type is leaner, and he has to work harder to bulk up. Your physiology allows you to add muscle more quickly. It’s...interesting.”
As was the warmth of her skin, he thought, watching her green eyes darken slightly as her features sharpened and her gaze intensified. The air seemed charged as energy flowed between them. He didn’t know exactly what she was thinking, but he was starting to have a good idea.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he commanded.
The corners of her mouth turned up. “I’m trying to flirt. Sorry. It’s harder than it looks. I guess it’s all the nuances.”
She swayed toward him. “Our previous encounter was very satisfying. There have been two other men, and it wasn’t the same. I suppose it’s one of those intangibles that can’t be measured. With you, I felt more comfortable. We laughed and talked in addition to making love. I remember that we ordered champagne and you—”
He knew exactly what he’d done with a mouthful of champagne. He remembered everything about their night together.
Unable to stop himself, he put his hands on her waist and drew her to him. She went willingly, her head already slightly raised so he barely had to bend to kiss her.
* * *
YES, FELICIA THOUGHT, as Gideon’s mouth pressed against hers. She let her eyes sink closed as she lost herself in the feel of his lips against hers.
The kiss was gentler than she remembered. As if he were retracing steps. She let herself feel the heat radiating out from a central point low in her belly and get lost in the image of fire dancing across her skin.
She put her hands on his shoulders and leaned against him. He moved his hands from her waist to her back, then slid them up and down. She wanted to stretch and purr, she thought, her brain cataloging the various sensations of his kiss, his fingers, the heat where they touched, chest to chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck and parted her lips. He stiffened and drew back a little.
While she wasn’t usually one for insights, she was acutely aware that he had yet to decide. That the kiss had been more reaction than plan and he was still in a place where he could say no. She didn’t know why he would refuse, but understood he still could.
She opened her eyes to look at him. His jaw was tight, his gaze filled with indecision.
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he said, his voice nearly a growl.
She smiled. “I know exactly what I’m asking.”
Four years ago she had pursued Gideon, she thought. Had picked him from all the other men in the bar that night. As she had said, there was something about him. His strength, of course. Nearly any female would respond well to a powerful man. That was merely biology. But there had been something else. An elusive sense of rightness, although if she did some research, she could probably figure out what it was.
Now the need to be with him was as strong, and for a similar reason, she realized. She was unsettled. Confused. There had been so many changes in her life, and the job offer had provided a tipping point of sorts. She needed to feel anchored and safe. How strange she would seek that in Gideon’s arms.
She didn’t have many gut instincts—another hazard of living in her head. But she had learned to trust them when they occurred, and right now her gut was telling her that she wanted to have sex with this man. Hot, hungry sex.
“I want this,” she murmured, still working through the questions.
She studied him, his broad shoulders, the slight tremor in his hands. Her gaze drifted down and she saw his erection straining against his jeans.
Anticipation joined satisfaction. There was no