Face-Off by Nancy Warren Read Free Book Online Page B

okay job because he made a lowanimal growl that called up a corresponding response in her body. Oh, yes, she’d be waiting by the phone.
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    B UT WHEN HE CALLED, it was with the disappointing news that he’d been delayed. “My brother and sister demanded a family dinner. We haven’t all been together for a while. I didn’t know how to get out of it. If I told them I had a date, then they’d ask a bunch of nosy questions about you, which I don’t think either of us want.”
    â€œRight. Of course. I understand.” And she did, all too well. She was his little secret. Not even his family could know about her. It was Michael all over again. Except that with Jarrad the sex was really good, and since she already knew he could never be hers for more than a couple of weeks, she wasn’t hurt that he didn’t want to own up to her presence in his life. At least, not very hurt.
    Later, she was pretty sure she’d suffer when he was gone from her life, but in the meantime, it was so nice to be with him.
    â€œCan I come over later? After dinner?” he asked.
    â€œOh, um…” It wasn’t as if she had anything else to do to make a visit from a celebrity hockey player unwelcome. “Sure.”
    â€œGreat. See you around ten.”
    Her apartment was neat. It was always neat, but with a gentleman caller coming later, she changed the sheets, vacuumed her bedroom, went out and bought fresh flowers. Then she ironed her best silk nightgown. The softness of the fine fabric and the thought that it would soon be the only thing separating her and Jarrad made her feel hot and twitchy.
    She’d already enjoyed the best night of her life, how could she be so greedy as to be panting for a repeat? She’d never thought of herself as a particularly sexual woman.
    Until now.
    When she recalled how bold she’d been last night she felt her cheeks heat. But Jarrad had seemed to like it, and in truth, she’d liked that version of herself too. A woman who wasn’t afraid to ask for what she wanted. To offer herself to a man who interested her.
    She was strong, sexy, in control. She was right up there with Madonna.
    Though she doubted the Material Girl ironed her own nightgowns—if she even wore them—or spent an afternoon correcting the spelling of second graders.
    She decided to continue on her road to personal boldness and while she was waiting for Jarrad, did her hair in sexy curls, slipped on her silk nightgown and imagined meeting him at the door wearing so little that she was a blatant invitation.
    Then he was there, buzzing her to get in. “Come on up,” she said, and then panicked. What was he going to think of her? Her outfit pretty much begged for sex. Maybe he was here to talk about coaching, to get some more of her advice for seven-year-old boys.
    She raced into her bedroom, tore off the gown, shoved herself into jeans and a sweater, and ran to get the door when he knocked.
    She opened the door.
    He stepped inside.
    She was in his arms.
    He kissed her for a long, long time. “I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he told her.
    â€œMe, too.” And then she cursed herself for being such a chicken. She should never have changed. On the other hand, now she’d have the pleasure of having him undress her.
    He backed her into the living room, still kissing her.Oh, it was nice to be in the arms of someone so athletically coordinated. By the time they got to the couch, she was panting with desire.
    So was he.
    She wondered why she’d bothered changing her sheets. They never made it to the bedroom.
    Much later, when they were sprawled on the couch talking idly, he said, “So, did you practice today?”
    â€œNo. I had marking to do.”
    â€œIt’s very important to practice.”
    â€œI can do it when you’re there, but when I’m on my own I kind of freak out.”
    â€œWell, until you get the hang