Chapter 14

ALTHOUGH THE box fan had cooled his room somewhat, Ken lay wide awake, his body fatigued but his mind on a treadmill. It had taken all his effort not to go after Georgia today. Never before had a kiss shaken him so. He was falling for the woman, like a big stupid tree. He sighed and wiped his hand over his mouth. There was no good ending to this scenario, at least not for him.

When the phone rang, he turned his head on the pillow, stopping short of a prayer. He couldn't very well ask to be led unto temptation, could he? He reached out in the darkness and picked up the phone on the third ring, covering the mouthpiece with a handkerchief, just in case. "Hello?" He held his breath in the silence. One... two... three. "Hello?" he repeated.

"Hi. It's Georgia."

His breath whooshed out in relief. "I'm glad."

She made a happy little noise that clutched at his stomach. "Did you try to call?"

"I... was getting ready to," he said cautiously, wishing he had the nerve to come clean. The woman had already turned him down for a date. What did he have to lose?

Her stolen kisses. Her respect. Her calls.

"I just got out of the shower," she whispered. "It was so hot in here, I had to do something to cool down."

He groaned. Just one last ride, he promised himself. She was so unbelievably sexy, and the fun would end Sunday night when her boyfriend returned, if not sooner.

"Problem is," she said, "I'm still hot."

His erection tented his pale-blue boxers. "It's getting warmer in here by the minute. What are you wearing?"

"A towel."

Lucky, lucky towel.

"What about you?" she asked.

He heard seams splitting as he shed his boxers. "Nothing. God, I haven't been able to get you off my mind."

She murmured her pleasure. "I was wondering... How do you feel about... oral sex?"

He swallowed hard. "I'm in favor of it."

She laughed.

Ken lay back against the pillows and closed his eyes as she uttered erotic words. She knelt over him and took his throbbing rod into that wonderful mouth of hers, flicking her tongue like when he'd kissed her today. Her dark hair fell forward like a feathery curtain, tickling his abdomen. When the ministrations brought him close to the brink however, he instructed her to swing her body around so he could return the favor. He moaned against her musky sex, tonguing the center of her control until she lost it, grandly. His climax followed soon after, quick and intense.

"That was wonderful," he breathed. "I can't imagine anything you would do that I wouldn't love."

She laughed. "I thought the word 'love' wasn't in your vocabulary."

Hmm. Rob hadn't told Georgia he loved her? "I, um… changed my mind. The last few days..." What? These last few days he'd fallen for her while impersonating her boyfriend?

"Go on," she urged.

He squirmed, not wanting to put words in the man's mouth. "I just feel different about us."

She sighed. "And I was so afraid you wouldn't like this."

"Are you kidding? I can't wait to see you again." That had just slipped out. Ken winced and waited.

"You gave me a scare today," she said.

Ken frowned. "When?"

"When I dropped by your house," she said with a little laugh.

His heart skipped one beat, two beats.

"When I saw the papers stacked up on the stoop, I was worried that you were more ill than you told me. I could just picture you upstairs, withering away in that humongous bed of yours."

Speaking of withering.

"I finally looked in the garage and saw your car was gone. Did you go into the office?"

His mind raced, trying to keep up with the lies and the half truths. "Um, yes."

"I figured your cold had put you behind. You sound much better, by the way."

"I'm still a little hoarse," he insisted, then cleared his throat for effect.

"I suppose you got my note."

He nearly dropped the phone "I, uh... I—no, I didn't."

"I left it on the kitchen counter."

"Ah." He cast around for an explanation. "It was dark when I got home, and I didn't even turn on a light."

"Oh, well," she said. "I just wanted to let you know I left you soup in the refrigerator."

Ken frowned. "That was nice of you."

"Happy to do it. And I'm glad to hear you're feeling better. I guess this means you'll be at the wedding tomorrow."

He froze. Would Rob be back in time to attend the wedding? "I'm... planning to. If I don't get caught up... at the office."

"Oh," she said, clearly disappointed.

Did Rob disappoint her often?

"Remind me again where the church is," he said in his best guys-will-be-guys voice.

"St. Michael's, silly. Remember, you pulled some strings and got them a deal on printing their invitations?"

"Of course." Ken winced. "Except I don't recall the time."

She sighed. "Three-thirty."

"Right," he said. "Three thirty." Far away, a siren screamed, barely audible over the whir of the fan, but his ears were attuned to the noise of emergency.

Crash scratched against the floor, obviously trying to stand. He barked, several times, ending in a whine—he'd heard the siren, too. Like an idiot, Ken waved his arms to quiet the dog, then bounded into the bathroom and closed the door.

"What was all that noise?" she asked.

"The television," he said, sitting on the edge of the tub. "Some cop show."

"Oh," she said flatly.

"How's work?" he asked, partly to change the subject, and partly because he wanted to know.

"Dr. Story is watching me, waiting for me to make another mistake. He called me in this morning to sign a report he wrote up about that incident with the police officer I told you about."

Ken swallowed guiltily. "Oh?"

"That little stunt he pulled will go on my permanent file."

He was torn between commiserating with her and taking up for himself. "Well, I guess knowing you did the right thing will have to be its own reward."

"Hey, whose side are you on, anyway?" She laughed, and he found himself irritated that she seemed so damnably cheerful around her boyfriend all the time. She yawned, then her laugh tinkled over the line again. "I'm sorry—I'm suddenly so sleepy."

Ken frowned. He wished he could say the same, but he had enough on his mind to keep a dozen men tossing and turning. He didn't want to let her go, but he couldn't very well keep her on the line. "I guess I'd better say good night, then."

"That's funny."

He picked up on an odd note in her voice. "What?"

"You sound so... different."

He adjusted the handkerchief and moved farther away from the mouthpiece. "It's just my cold."

"No," she said, sounding troubled. "I don't mean your voice. I mean... never mind."

"Georgia," he said, overcome with frustration. "I love... talking to you."

She was silent for so long Ken was afraid she had fallen asleep. At last she murmured, "Good night, Rob," and hung up.

* * *

GEORGIA HADN'T felt so thoroughly miserable in recent memory. Her body still pulsed from a release she'd shared with Rob... while she fantasized about another man. And the mind could play devious tricks on a person—she'd even begun to imagine Ken Medlock's voice in Rob's scratchy one.

Was this roiling sensation in her stomach what her father felt when he came home to kiss her mother's neck after a bout of fooling around? Could she even face Rob tomorrow if he showed up for the wedding?

She squeezed a handful of pillow into a fist. Rob didn't deserve this, this... distraction. Not when things were going so well between them. He'd never been so carefree, so vulnerable. For months she'd been hoping for a sign that he was open to exploring a deeper, more intimate relationship. Yet tonight when she'd thought he was going to tell her he loved her, she'd panicked.

"What does that mean?" she whispered aloud in the dark.

It means you 're like your father. Never appreciating what you have, always wanting what's out of reach, or things you know are bad. Or wrong. Or hurtful. Willing to sacrifice warm security for hot passion. Self-indulgent. Reckless. Wicked.

Georgia sighed and flung the sheet off her humid body. And hot.