Dating A Saint by Donna McDonald Read Free Book Online Page B

poured herself a glass of wine. She was standing at her marble-topped kitchen island drinking it when the doorbell rang.
    Looking down at herself, Lauren frowned. If Chad had forgotten something, she wasn’t exactly dressed to talk with him. Maybe she just wouldn’t answer. It was rude, but she was pretty sure she could be rude—at least this once.
    But when the doorbell rang several more times, Lauren went to it at last and looked out the security port. Shocked at who she saw, she simply opened the door.
    “What are you doing here?” Lauren asked.
    Jim didn’t answer—couldn’t. His gaze dropped to her unbound breasts in the tank top, before noticing her pants fit her like a second skin. The mature discussion he’d been planning suddenly didn’t seem like a possibility anymore. Desire—rushing blood buckets of it—robbed him of rational speech.
    “Jim?” Lauren prompted. “ Why are you here?”
    Jim closed his eyes. “I’m not sure. Can I come in for a few minutes?” The question came out a husky plea, but it was the best he could do with his tongue glued to the top of his mouth.
    Lauren’s survival instincts warned her to turn Jim away, but the tug of desire fluttering in her belly had her swinging the door wide. She motioned with her hand for Jim to enter.
    His cologne preceded him and made her dizzy as she closed the door. Only years of ingrained social manners kept her from launching herself at him and begging.
    “I was just having some wine. Would you like a glass?” Lauren asked calmly, turning on the heels of her socked feet and heading back to the kitchen.
    “That would be good. Thanks.” Jim replied, trailing along behind her, admiring the view. Wine was the last thing he wanted, but after leaving her with Chad earlier, Jim had gone crazy thinking about her and other men. Right now he was ready to take just about anything Lauren was willing to give him, even if it was just a hard time.
    Lauren didn’t ask Jim whether he wanted white or red. She didn’t ask him what size glass. She didn’t ask any of the hospitable questions bred into her since she was twelve. Watching him look around her kitchen with interest scrambled her manners even more. After pouring Jim a glass of what she was drinking, she slid it across the cool marble to him, watching as he sat uninvited on one of the four stools flanking the island’s edge.
    Trying to find somewhere to look so she wouldn’t be staring at him, Lauren noticed the clock and the fact it was almost midnight.
    “It’s a little late for a social visit, isn’t it?” Lauren suggested, her tone hard—still stung from their argument earlier.
    When Jim just stared at her as if he didn’t know how he’d ended up where he was, the polite cowering woman inside Lauren snapped and transformed into a bitch screaming to be set free. She hadn’t known how much like Regina and Alexa she was, hadn’t known how angry at a man she could be, until Jim had walked into her kitchen at midnight offering no explanation for being there. She knew damn well why he followed her home, knew how it was between them. How could Jim pretend to be ignorant?
    “I had to wait until I saw Chad leave,” Jim said quietly, already resenting her tone, though he knew it wasn’t fair of him to expect a warm reception. He’d sat through Chad kissing her goodnight and forced himself to stay in the car until his blood pressure returned to normal and he was sure he could let the man get into his car and drive away.
    “I’m surprised you’re so concerned about what Chad would think. In fact, it’s a little late to worry about social appearances,” Lauren said, lifting her glass for a healthy drink. “Almost everyone I interact with regularly saw you talking to me tonight. God only knows what Jared is going to tell my mother about seeing us together. They still have lunch and share the delusion of me pining for a reconciliation.”
    “I didn’t intend to cause trouble for you,”