Run the Risk by Lori Foster Read Free Book Online Page A

much. “Yes, thank you.”
    “So.” He stood and carried the dishes to the sink. “What
now?”
    Bemused, she watched as he rinsed each plate, loaded them in
the dishwasher and did a general cleaning of their dinner mess.
    By the time he finished, no sign of dinner remained. “You’re a
lot tidier than I am.”
    “No offense, but I’m thinking a lot of people are probably
tidier than you.”
    “It’s true.” She didn’t really get into the whole domestic
routine. She let out a sigh. “My place isn’t really dirty or anything, but it is
cluttered.” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like to fuss.”
    “Good. Fussy women are annoying.”
    Distant thunder rumbled, and they both looked toward the
balcony. The bright evening sunshine had faded beneath thick gray clouds that
darkened the sky. A troubled breeze carried in cooler air.
    “Don’t get me wrong,” Logan said, “but this is the weirdest
date I’ve ever had.”
    That brought her back around to face him. “It wasn’t a
date!”
    “Sure it was.” Mood teasing, he came closer. “A little necking,
dinner and conversation, getting to know each other.”
    Oh, God. Maybe it was a date.
    “Usually doesn’t happen in that order, and I can’t recall ever
talking marriage on a first date.”
    “You brought it up!”
    “To appease your curiosity.” A light patter of rain danced over
the patio doors. “But it wasn’t bad for our first. Was it?”
    Not bad at all. In fact, it was the first time in ages that
she’d forgotten, for just a little while, how much her life had changed. “No, I
suppose it—”
    Bright lightning splintered the sky, chased by a deafening
crack of thunder that reverberated in the floor beneath their feet.
    She said, “Wow.” And the electricity died.
    It needed only this.
    The combination of no lights and black sky left the apartment
cast in deep mysterious shadows.
    Logan walked to the patio doors just as the storm hit in
earnest, pounding the earth with a deluge of rain. It blew in against his bare
chest, dampening his skin, his hair and the front of those well-worn jeans.
    He shut his doors and, after swiping off his face, crossed the
floor to get the kitchen window, too.
    Because she stood there in a lustful daze, he prompted her.
“What about your windows? They open?”
    How had she forgotten that? “Damn it,” she said, and bolted
back to her own apartment. She didn’t want Logan to follow her, but she didn’t
take the time to tell him not to. The way the rain blew in, everything she owned
would be soaked in under a minute.
    She got the balcony doors closed while he shut the kitchen
window for her. She darted into the bathroom to get that small window, and
Logan…went into her bedroom.
    No, no, no.
    Face soaked, shirt and shoes wet, she waited, but he didn’t
come back out. Knowing proximity could get the best of her, she nonetheless
stepped into the bedroom behind him. He had his back to her, eyeing her
treadmill.
    “Logan?”
    When he turned, she saw his jeans clinging to his body, his
chest hair darker with the rain, his nipples tight from the chill.
    Her mouth went dry.
    “Sorry.” He ran a hand over his face and pushed back his hair.
“It was coming in pretty good. Your floor’s wet, and so is the bottom of your
bed.”
    She stayed by the door, her thoughts rioting with explicit
images of him naked, the things he’d do, the things she wanted to do to him.
    A sudden shift in the air, in his mood, sent a thread of
excited alarm up her spine.
    He took a step toward her. “What about you, Sue?”
    Not knowing what he asked, she shook her head in confusion.
    “It’s too damn dark for me to tell,” he whispered, coming
closer. In a husky, suggestive tone, he said, “I’m betting you’re wet, too.”
    So many ways she wanted to reply—all of them dangerous.
    She couldn’t think when she looked at him, so she turned her
back and tried to order herself to caution.
    “Thank you for the help.” It