The direct order made her see red. Something dark and dangerous came to life inside her. Before he could make his demand again, she leaned forward, clamped a hand around the back of his neck and kissed him.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she’d only intended the gesture to be a belligerent response to his unreasonable order. Big mistake. No, huge mistake. Because the instant her lips met the hard line of his mouth, she felt as if the entire world was spinning out of control.
And when his mouth opened and his tongue thrust between her lips, she was completely lost to sensation...greedy, urgent sensation that made her pulse hum and her heart thump wildly. Liquid heat pooled low in her belly and desire made her want to cling and savor and taste. Only a low growl in Michael’s throat had her tearing herself away, her cheeks flushed, her breath coming in quick, unsteady gasps.
She rocked back in her chair and raked her fingers through her hair. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, embarrassment flooding through her. Only the dazed look in Michael’s eyes kept her from feeling like a complete fool.
“Don’t,” he said, his voice harsh. “Don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have—”
She cut him off. “Shouldn’t have what?” she asked with self-derision. “Responded when I all but attacked you?”
He smiled faintly at that. “I dared you,” he pointed out.
“You did not,” she said, then thought about it. Maybe he hadn’t dared her in so many words, but the challenge in his voice was exactly what she’d responded to. She studied him in confusion. “Okay, maybe you did. Did you do it on purpose?”
He looked almost as bewildered as she felt. “I wish to hell I knew.”
Before they could explore it any further, her brother arrived, a glowering expression on his face. “I see that my warning was taken to heart by both of you.”
“Oh, stuff a sock in it,” Kelly retorted.
Bryan ignored her and looked at Michael. “What about you?” he demanded indignantly. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I think ‘stuff a sock in it’ pretty well sums up my view, as well.”
Bryan scowled from Michael to Kelly and back again. “Okay, then, I wash my hands of this. You two are on your own.”
“Fine by me,” Kelly retorted.
“I always have been,” Michael said, his expression already distant and withdrawn.
Bryan hesitated. He seemed as if he were about to relent, but then he whirled around and headed for the bar.
Kelly instinctively reached for Michael’s hands and held them tightly. “You are not on your own anymore. Look around you. You never have to be alone again.”
Michael surveyed the assembled Devaneys and O’Briens warily, as if he still didn’t quite trust what they were offering. In that instant, Kelly felt something deep inside herself shift. Years ago what she had felt for Michael Devaney had been a teenage crush on a handsome, mysterious boy. What she felt right now was so much more. She wasn’t quite ready to put a label on it, especially not one he would reject out of hand.
But if it took her a lifetime, she would find some way to wipe that bleak expression from his eyes and prove to him that he was a man worthy of being loved.
5
The memory of that soul-searing kiss kept Michael awake most of the night. It had taken him totally by surprise on so many levels, his mind was still reeling.
Even after Bryan’s warning, he hadn’t actually expected Kelly to make a move on him. A part of him still thought of her as Bryan’s kid sister. That she had impulsively and thoroughly out-of-the-blue locked lips with him had shocked him right down to his toes. That wasn’t some kid’s move. It was the act of a woman willing to take what she wanted.
That he had responded, that he had all but devoured her right there in the middle of his brother’s pub in front of a whole slew of witnesses—including her disapproving brother—had been almost as shocking. Maybe that head injury he’d dismissed had left his brain more addled than he’d realized.
He’d admitted to Kelly that part of the blame was his. He had—albeit unintentionally—pretty much challenged her to kiss him. What red-blooded, healthy, spirited woman wouldn’t have reacted exactly as Kelly had? That didn’t make it right. It certainly didn’t make it smart. And it most definitely didn’t make it something that could be allowed to happen again.
Unfortunately, short of firing her, he wasn’t entirely clear on how he was going to guarantee that there wouldn’t be a repeat, especially now that they both knew exactly the kind of fireworks they’d be avoiding. Most men—and even a few women—would not willingly turn their backs on that kind of instantaneous combustion, no matter how dangerous.
Michael muttered a sharp oath under his breath. Why hadn’t he seen that kiss coming? He could have deflected it, laughed off the incident and gotten a decent night’s sleep. Instead, he’d tossed and turned, his body half-aroused by lingering memories of the way Kelly’s mouth had felt on his. Here it was nearly eight in the morning and he was as stirred up as he had been within seconds after she’d dragged her lips away from his. Worst of all, there wasn’t even enough time for him to haul himself into an ice-cold shower before Kelly arrived for their Saturday morning session.
Well, there was only one thing to do, he finally concluded. He had to face the whole situation squarely and give Kelly the option of quitting or sticking around under a stringent set of hands-off guidelines.
There was just one tiny little flaw in that plan. Massages were part of the therapy. He’d discovered already that there were a dozen different reasons why it was necessary for her to touch him. Trying to ban all contact between them was pretty much self-defeating in terms of his recovery. Not banning it was dangerous for entirely different reasons.
Michael thought of the thousand and one dangerous situations in which he’d found himself during his years as a SEAL. How could he possibly let one sexy little therapist scare him out of doing what needed to be done? He couldn’t, not if he ever expected to look at himself in the mirror again.
Bring her on, he thought with renewed determination. Let her tempt him. He would be strong. He would resist. He would concentrate on the reason she was in his life...to make him whole again, to get him back on his feet. He would pretend she looked like a frog and had the skin of an alligator.
He choked on the image. Maybe he should forget about trying to deceive himself into thinking she wasn’t attractive and concentrate on developing the willpower of a saint.
* * *
“You did what?” Kelly’s boss at the rehab clinic asked incredulously when Kelly stopped by with coffee and blueberry muffins on her way to Michael’s on Saturday morning.
The coffee and treats were a Saturday ritual. The stunned expression on Moira’s face was a rarity. So was the hard look that followed. Kelly found herself wincing under that intense, disapproving scrutiny.
“Tell me again,” Moira commanded. “I can’t believe I heard you right the first time.”
“I kissed Michael,” Kelly repeated. “I flat out, on the lips, kissed him.” Her chin shot up in a display of defiance. “And I would do it again, if I got the chance.”
That said, her belligerence wilted. “Not that I’m ever likely to have another chance,” she said. “He’ll probably fire me when I walk in there this morning.”
“He should,” Moira said without the slightest trace of sympathy. “Of all the unprofessional, self-defeating things you could have done—”
Kelly cut her off. The lecture wasn’t really unexpected, but it was unnecessary. “You’re