Her Perfect Lips: HarperImpulse Contemporary Romance. Lisa Fox

part of your plan?”

      Her gaze flicked to his lips and then quickly away. God, she still had it so bad for him. She took a quick sip of her cocktail to try to cool herself down.

      He reached over took her hand. “I’ve thought about you.”

      Every molecule in the air between them instantly ignited. “Have you?” Heat rushed to her cheeks, her pulse raced in her veins. “What’d you think about?”

      He ran his thumb over her knuckles. “Do you remember that night?”

      “Of course I remember.” She would never forget the night before she left for New York. The night she spent with him. The memory often came to her in the darkest hours, when she was home, alone in her bed. No one had ever held her the way he did, no one’s skin had ever felt quite so good against hers. “I almost missed my plane.”

      He traced patterns over the back her hand with his thumb, a delicate caress that made her blood run hot. When he met her eyes again, tension exploded between them, turning her insides liquid. Her gaze fell back to his lips, and she couldn’t help but remember the taste of his kiss. The way he’d touched her. The texture of his skin. Given the chance to have it all again, she’d start right there at his mouth and then work her way down to his—

      “Hey,” Peter said as he and Melanie returned to the table. “Do you want another drink?”

      “No,” Stacy said, rising to her feet. This was too much. “I have to get back to the hotel.” And take an ice cold shower.

      Ten stood up as well. “I’ll walk with you.”

      She waved him off. The last thing she needed was Ten anywhere near her hotel room. That was just too much temptation. She wasn’t a kid anymore, and she wasn’t in New Orleans to get laid. She needed to remember that. “Thanks, but it’s just around the corner.”

      “Stacy,” he said, his voice stern, a tone she knew all too well. It was the one he used whenever he thought she was being unreasonable. She’d heard it a lot. “This city is dangerous.”

      She couldn’t really argue with that. He was right. The city was dangerous. And it wasn’t smart to walk alone. She knew that all too well. The very first night she moved out of the Loyola dorms and into the Marigny was a night that should have been like any other. But that night, seven murders occurred in a sixteen-hour span. Seven different people were killed for seven different reasons in seven different places all within the city limits. She had missed one of those murders by a single block. If she had turned left instead of right… A graveyard chill raced down her back. It wasn’t something she liked to think about. “Okay,” she said, and turned to the others. “Do you guys want to walk back with us?”

      They wanted to stay, so Stacy and Ten said their goodbyes and exited the bar. They turned onto Canal, and Ten grabbed her around the waist to keep her from colliding with a Lucky Dog vendor heading into the Quarter for his shift. She wrapped her arm around him, enjoying the heat of his body.

      “How long are you in town for?” he asked, the weight of his hand on her waist wonderfully distracting.

      “Four nights,” she said, and ducked as a group of college girls tossed glitter into the air like it was fairy dust. “I leave Monday morning.” She brushed the glitter out of her hair, the sparkles raining down on her clothes. “I have the chance to make a really good impression, Ten. This conference is a big deal and there are a lot of people I need to meet. I think, if I can work it right, I might be able to land a speaking role for next year. That would be amazing.”

      He smiled and hugged her closer. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

      She shrugged. “I know what I want.” She glanced up at him. “What’s up with you? What are you doing now?”

      A man jumped in their path, offering them a pamphlet on how to find Jesus, and Ten waved him away. “I have my own gallery now. I paint. Sell some art. The guy I went to see on Bourbon is an artist I want to work with.”

      “That’s excellent,” she said, genuinely pleased, but also a bit surprised. She hadn’t thought he’d taken his painting all that seriously. Her impression had been that it was something he did, not anything he’d had plans to do professionally. But then, he hadn’t taken very much too seriously back then, he just slid by on a wish and a sexy grin. They were both older now. Maybe he had changed. “I’m happy for you.”

      “Thanks. It’s small, but it does well.”

      They entered the lobby and headed toward the elevators. Ten pressed the button, and when it arrived, they rode up in silence, sharing the car with a few other conference attendees. She snuck a quick glance at him, the heat of him warming her side. Would he go for the goodnight kiss? Part of her hoped he would, while the other part of her cringed at her lack of self-control.