Minutes to Kill (Scarlet Falls #2)(69)

He opened the door. She was standing just outside his bedroom, the lapels of his flannel shirt clutched in one hand, a pile of wet clothes in the other. Her hair was damp but combed, the short locks framing a heart-shaped face flushed pink from the hot shower. Though she was only a head shorter than him, her frame was narrow. She’d rolled the waistband of his sweatpants over twice, but they rode low on her hips as if they could fall at any second, something he could easily picture happening. Right now. A tiny sliver of skin showed between the hem of the shirt and the waistband of the sagging pants. His eyes lingered on that half inch of bare skin. If those pants dropped an inch . . .

Yes, he’d seen her in a silk blouse and tailored power suit, but this . . . This was sexy. And made him want to tug her into a bed beside him.

After the horror of today, he needed . . . He paused. What did he need? Hannah.

Her eyes strayed from his face down his chest and paused on the towel.

She was checking him out. Nice.

“I’m sorry.” Blushing, she turned away. “I’ll wait downstairs.”

“No need.” Brody moved closer and took the wet clothes from her. He leaned closer and inhaled. She smelled of mint and soap, and he wanted a taste. His gaze drifted from her mouth to her eyes.

Her hand in the middle of his bare chest stopped him. She was studying him with suspicion, almost wariness. “What are we doing here, Brody?”

“I don’t know. I’m making this up as I go along.” But he was thinking ahead. Maybe ten minutes ahead. No more. He refused to think about the reports he’d file tomorrow or about today’s shooting. Or where Hannah would be in a month. There was only here and now.

He saw her hand inching lower, sliding down his abs . . .

“Do we have to have a plan?” he asked, his voice rough.

“I like plans.”

“How does this fit into your plan?” Brody caught the back of her neck with his free hand, gently pulled her in, and covered her mouth with his. Her elbow bent, trapping her hand between their bodies. He turned his head, slanting his lips to taste more of her, easing his tongue inside her mouth. He dropped the clothes to place his other hand on her hip and touched the exposed strip of smooth skin at her waist. His thumb stroked her hip bone. He felt the shiver course through her body.

“Cold?” He lifted his head. Her eyes were closed. They blinked open, the blue clouded with confusion—and desire.

“Um. No.” She slid her trapped hand to settle it on his shoulder.

Brody’s gaze caught the fading bruise at her hairline. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea. You’re still recovering.”

“Chicken.”

Had he heard her correctly? “What?”

“You heard me.” Her expression went from wary to wicked. How did she know that humor was exactly what he needed? “You started this, and now you’re chickening out.” Her hand dropped to the towel. She tugged the end free and let it drop. “Mm. I don’t see any second thoughts.”

“I want you, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to take advantage of you.” The tension inside him eased with her teasing.

“You are the one who had a hellacious day. Am I taking advantage of you?” Hannah took a step back and unbuttoned the flannel shirt. Walking past him into the master bedroom, she tossed it over her shoulder. She slid her pants down her legs and stepped out of them. Oh. She’d been commando under his pants, something he should have known since her clothes had been wet through. Why did that thought zing straight to his balls?

The T-shirt hit the wall next to his head, and the sight of her naked body stunned him.

Challenge filled the glance she cast back at him. He’d always thought of blue as a cool color, but tonight her eyes blazed pure heat.

“Come on, Brody. What are you afraid of?”

You.

Somewhere inside Brody’s head, under the raging want of her, an alarm went off. If he gave in to his desire tonight, nothing would ever be the same. One night with her would never be enough. He’d be giving her the power to hurt him. But tonight, he didn’t care. He needed human contact.

He needed her.

She walked five paces and stopped next to the bed. She turned, giving him her body in profile. Long, long legs. Lean body. Small breasts in perfect proportion to the sleek length of her.

Deep in his chest, something gave, opened, unfurled. There was no choice to make. He had to have her.

Brody moved toward her. No risk. No reward.





Chapter Twenty-Six

Was he going to reject her?

Hannah paused in the doorway. The air in the room chilled her skin. Brody’s bedroom was masculine, decorated in earth tones from pale gray to deep brown. An island-size sleigh bed dominated the space. Goose bumps rippled up her arms. Fear or cold?

Ten feet away from her, Brody wrestled with a decision. A thought bloomed in Hannah’s mind. She needed to get to know this man better. There was more to him than he’d revealed. He’d kissed her, and his physical hunger for her was obvious. So why was he hesitating?

Brody kept his emotions bottled with a tight seal. From the desire in his kiss, she’d thought he needed comfort and distraction after today’s turmoil. But she shouldn’t have pressured him. Behind the want in his eyes, there was another emotion buried: pain. He’d downplayed his ex-wife’s cheating, but clearly, her betrayal had left a scar. The sudden surge of anger shocked her. She couldn’t bulldoze her way through Brody’s walls. A kiss was not always an invitation to share one’s bed. Sometimes a kiss was just a kiss.