His Emergency Fiancée by Kate Hardy Read Free Book Online

She slid into bed beside him.
    ‘’Night, Kirst.’ He kissed her lightly on the cheek and switched out the light.
    * * *
    Kirsty woke in the middle of the night, feeling warm and very comfortable. She was about to drift back into sleep when a few things suddenly hit her, and her eyes snapped open. Number one, the hem of her demure, baggy, knee-length nightshirt was somewhere above her waist. Well above her waist. Number two, there was a hand underneath said nightshirt—an arm encircling her waist and fingers curved round her naked breast. Number three, there was a male body curled spoon-style behind hers—an aroused male body.
    She took a deep breath. Be sensible, Kirst, she told herself. You know it’s a basic physiological reaction of the male in sleep—it’s nothing to do with you. The fact he’s touching you like that—well, that’s just propinquity. You’re his best mate, nothing more. He barely even registers you as female!
    And if she tried wriggling out of his arms now, she’d wake him and they’d both be embarrassed and…it was easier just to stay where she was.
    Except it wasn’t. Was it her imagination, or had the neckline of her nightshirt slipped lower, too—and could she really feel his mouth against the curve of her neck, or was that just his breathing?
    Her mouth went dry. This was crazy. She didn’t think of Ben in those terms. So why was she suddenly imagining what it would be like if he touched her, gently rolled her onto her back and kissed his way down her body? Why was her nipple hardening under his touch? Why was she feeling that weird tingle deep inside her belly?
    Because you’re mad, Kirsty Brown, she told herself crisply. It’s not going to happen—and if it did, you’d lose him for ever. It’s not worth it.
    Sex wasn’t anything to get worked up about. Hadn’t she learned that the hard way, all those years ago, with Luke? Weeks of thinking that he loved her, that he wanted her…and all the time he’d had another motive in mind. A cruel, mocking motive.
    Money. A bet. On how long it’d take him to seduce her.
    Ben wasn’t like that, she knew—but even so, nothing could ever happen between them. Even if Ben wasn’t so gorgeous and she wasn’t so plain, it still wouldn’t work because he couldn’t handle commitment. She wanted a man who’d stick by her—and Ben wasn’t that man. Tonight…was an aberration.
    She closed her eyes, told herself firmly to relax and stop being so silly. When that didn’t work, she started counting sheep—except they were all wearing tartan pyjamas and reminded her too much of the male body curled round hers, with only the thin cotton of those same tartan pyjamas between them. Then she fell back on the old student standby of naming every single bone in the skeleton, followed by the major organs, the muscles, the arteries…and finally she drifted back to sleep.
    * * *
    Ben woke some time later, disoriented. He was in a strange bed and there was a very feminine form nestled snugly into his body. Her legs were entwined with his own—even her feet were—whatever she was wearing was pushed up well above her waist, so his hands were resting directly on her skin, and…
    Oh, no. He suddenly remembered where he was. In his grandmother’s cottage and sharing a bed with Kirsty!
    He swallowed hard. There was no way he could move without waking her. And she’d be hideously embarrassed if she realised how entangled they were. He really ought to move his hand.
    Bad idea, he thought as his thumb brushed her nipple and it hardened at his touch. Very bad idea. But he couldn’t stop his thumb brushing her nipple for a second time and his fingers curving back round her swelling breast. It was a perfect fit. Beautiful, lush curves spilling out over his fingers…
    This is Kirsty, remember? No sex, he reminded himself crossly. He didn’t associate things like that with Kirsty. For goodness’ sake, she was wearing the unsexiest nightie in the world,