An Irresistible Impulse by Barbara Delinsky Read Free Book Online Page A

stretched pretty gingerly.” Homing in on precisely the spot, his thumbs began a circular kneading that brought a helpless moan of relief from Abby. “Feel better?”
    “Does it ever!” she exhaled slowly.
    “Does your back always bother you when you run?”
    “Uh-uh…. Only when I stop.”
    “Very funny.”
    Abby might have laughed had it not been for her growing awareness of his fingers—not only those thumbs that pressed and rubbed, but the others, four on each side, that seemed to round her middle and stake their claim. There was nothing laughable about their strength, nor about their exquisite gentleness. And her eyes were no longer shut, but rather wide, wide open.
    Suddenly Ben leaned forward. “I think that’s about as much as I can take,” he mused on a husky note. When she turned her head instinctively, she found his within inches. And his message couldn’t have been more clearly broadcast than it was in the smooth quicksilver of his eyes, the manly lure of his mouth, the absolute earthiness about him.
    Abby’s heart pounded loudly with her acknowledgment that Ben Wyeth was not only good looking and companionable, but the sexiest man she’d seen in years. She felt the animal magnetism that radiated from him, felt it in the tingling response of her body.
    They straightened slowly as a pair, neither breaking the silent spell. She took in his rumpled hair, his sweaty brow, the night’s shadow of his beard and felt all the more attracted. Then her gaze fell to his lips and she watched them move.
    “We’d better go in,” he murmured.
    She nodded mutely but couldn’t budge.
    “Abby…”
    Eyes widened, she met his gaze, knowing only that she wanted him to kiss her. But his tone had been of warning and he clamped his mouth shut, daring only to stroke her cheek with the back of his hand before pushing himself to his feet.
    Then he cleared his throat. “I think we ought to get showered and dressed,” he said, offering her a hand up. “They say breakfast is set for seven-forty-five. We’re supposed to be at the courthouse an hour after that.”
    Where better judgment hadn’t had a chance, mention of the courthouse brought her to her senses. The trial…she’d nearly forgotten why she was here, why he was here. With a soft moan of self-reproach and an apprehensive wince, she walked, head down, through the door he held and moved distractedly toward the stairs.
    The trial…beginning in just about two hours. Her stomach fluttered in a totally different way than it had moments before. As she headed up the first flight, she wondered what it would be like to sit there in the courtroom and not only watch the proceedings but be a vital participant in them.
    It was only when she’d reached the landing of the second floor that she realized Ben was still beside her. “I’ll…I’ll see you atbreakfast,” she half-whispered, then turned to mount the flight to the third floor. Her footsteps were echoed the entire way. At the top it was Ben’s turn.
    “See you later,” he murmured, waiting for her to turn left to his right. When she turned right as well, he stood stock still and watched her go.
    Her hand was on her doorknob before she looked back at him. When she frowned and tipped her head in puzzlement, he advanced. He stopped no more than an arm’s length away—an arm’s length from Abby, an arm’s length from his own door.
    Suddenly his expression warmed with that same humor she’d found so appealing from the start. “This may prove to be as much of a trial as the other,” he drawled, staring at her a minute longer before letting himself in and shutting the door.
    Abby knew exactly what he meant.

Three
     
     
     
    H er pulse quickened. It was one thing to know that Ben’s room was right next to hers, that each time she dressed or showered or climbed into bed he’d be doing the same little more than a wall’s width away. But to arrive in court and find that they’d be seated beside one