Frowning, Juliette smoothed her hands over her small breasts and down her narrow hips. No wonder Shay had first taken her for a child. She might be petite and well-groomed, but she’d give her eyeteeth for statuesque and sexy. She gnawed at her bottom lip, wondering what to do. Unfortunately, nothing brilliant came to mind, so she’d just have to play the hand fate had dealt her. How fortunate that her father had taught her to love games of chance. She was about to play the biggest game of all, and risk everything if anyone ever found out.
Glancing around, Juliette spied Shay’s robe hanging right where he’d said. She hesitated for a moment, then went over to lift it from the hook. The white terry cloth was worn thin and felt as soft as a baby’s blanket. Juliette smiled and hugged it close. For some reason this tatty old robe made Shay even more appealing. No GQ look for this man, just clothes he felt comfortable with, Juliette bet. How long had it been since she’d been really comfortable with anything? Comfort meant accepting who you were, and she was having problems doing that at the moment. She wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t as if her life had taken a ninety-degree turn—at least not until she met Shay.
Shay. So unexpected. So different. So tempting. So perfect.
She’d been accustomed to the best of everything throughout her life, so she often took perfection for granted. Not that she meant to; it was just part of her existence. Recently, though, she was questioning her lifestyle overtly—not just as a passing thought. She slipped her arms into the sleeves of the robe, imagining the nubby fabric rubbing over his arms as he performed the same act time and time again. She settled the robe around her, feeling the weight on her shoulders, the soft fabric draping her like a familiar lover. She tied the sash, pulling it tight, and chuckled when she realized it practically circled her twice. Glancing in the mirror, she decided she looked rather like a lone potato in a large sack, so lost did she seem. Good God! She couldn’t let him see her like this. Whatever made her think she could be a sex kitten? When he’d first mentioned his robe, her imagination had kindled erotic visions of herself in a sleek satin, wine-red number with a neckline that plunged to her toes and was guaranteed to drive any man crazy. She peeked at herself again, decked out in what resembled an oversize bath towel. Although she might find the terry cloth appealing, she doubted he’d feel the same way.
“What are you doing? I think you’ve really lost it, girl,” she whispered to herself.
Juliette stood on her tiptoe and peeked at herself again. Her hair was tousled and her eyes were huge. It was an appealing look if you liked drowned rats or waifs. She swore under her breath and reached for a towel to dry her hair. Leaning over, she rubbed her head briskly, her mind scurrying in place like a hamster on a wheel as she tried to control her panic. Ohmygod, maybe there’s a window I can climb through. She didn’t get a chance to find out.
The door shuddered with the force of a fist knocking. “Red, hey Red, are you okay in there?”
Juliette whirled around and stared at the door as if it had spoken to her. “I—” Her voice emerged as a squeak. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t feel dizzy or anything, do you?”
Only when I think of coming out of here and what I want to happen next.
The doorknob jiggled, then turned. “I’m coming in.”
“No, that’s all right. I’m coming out.” With a quick, despairing glance in the mirror, Juliette reached for the door and twisted the handle. She stepped from the bathroom, smacking into Shay, who was planted on the other side. Her face buried itself in his chest, which was exposed by the open shirt he wore. His rough hair tickled her nose, and her hands automatically came up to push herself away. However, she found them lingering on that chest, unwilling to move, her fingertips wantonly caressing his firm muscles, the sculpted perfection beneath her hands. She glanced up at him, only to find him staring down at her, his eyes sharp and intense.
“You changed your clothes,” she said, for want of anything more.
“You weren’t the only one who got wet.”
Juliette’s breath caught. He didn’t know the half of it. She ached, needed, wanted, longed… “Oh yes,” she whispered. “How stupid of me.”
“Are you warmer now?”
“Definitely,” she murmured. “How about you?”
“Me, too.”
She knew she should step away from him, but she didn’t want to. Couldn’t make herself do so. She had wanted the consummate fantasy, the ultimate adventure, and it was standing right in front of her. The reality was right under her fingertips. She couldn’t make herself move if she’d been standing on dynamite ready to blow. She felt his heated flesh practically scorching her fingertips.
Juliette smiled. “You seem very warm.”
“I am.” His hands lifted to cup her shoulders. “Matter of fact, it’s downright hot in here.”
She licked her lips. “Uh-huh.”
“Ah, hell. Now you’ve done it.”
She felt his hands tighten on her shoulders as she met his gaze. “Done what?”
Shaking his head, he muttered, “It’s the mouth. I’ve always been a sucker for a mouth like yours.”
Her lips felt as dry as a desert under the noonday sun. She licked her lips again, this time aware that his eyes followed the movement of her tongue. “A mouth like…” she let her words trail off, inviting his response. Maybe this seduction thing wouldn’t be so hard, after all.
“Like yours.” He leaned down, his lips touching hers with a gentle pressure, molding to her full contours.
Her lips tingled as they met his. She hadn’t known a man’s mouth could be so soft. She sighed. “Mmm…”
He drew back and looked at her, cupping her face with his hands. “They’re as full and sweet tasting as a ripe berry. I love berries.” He licked her lips, like a kid savoring a lollipop. “I could eat them up.”
Her lips parted slightly as his tongue stroked over them. “What’s stopping you?” She breathed the question into his mouth.
“You are.”
“No, I’m not.”
“I’m taking care of you. I can’t take advantage.”
“You wouldn’t be taking advantage.”
“Yes I would.” He dropped his hands and stepped back from her.
“But—”
He turned and started for the living room. “Come on. The coffee’s getting cold.”
Stunned, Juliette stared at his retreating back. What had happened? One minute the man was completely turned on, and the next he was sauntering away as if he were on his way to a garden party. Juliette’s eyes narrowed as she considered his tight buttocks and long legs. Her temper started to simmer. If he thought he could taste her lips like a rich dessert, then walk away from her as if he’d decided it was too fattening, he’d better think again. If he hadn’t kissed her, her senses might