Simply Sensual

“To get burned?” She met his heavy-lidded gaze. “I admit to liking the idea. I always had to be the good girl. I never crossed the street without an adult and I never played with matches. I’m tired of being good. I want to play with fire.” She wanted to play with him.

Though she’d never been so bold before, something about Ben made her feel free…to be herself, Grace realized. And it felt good.

His hands came to rest on her hips. Large palms and hot skin.

Before she realized his intent, he lifted her up and placed her on the kitchen counter. “First we see to your hands and neck.”

Grace smiled. Let him tend to her injuries first. She’d get a chance to question him more about who he was and where he’d come from. The pull between them wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

“Turn your hands palms up.” Ben desperately needed the distraction of caring for her injuries before he forgot them in favor of her enticing yet innocent proposition.

She did as he asked. He washed his hands at the sink, then returned to her side and saturated a cotton ball. With care he wiped down her dirt-streaked hands, cleaning the scrapes. Except for the first time when she sucked in a pain-filled breath, she didn’t utter a word of complaint and let him work.

“You’re good at this. Get much practice?”

He recognized her attempt to distract herself from what must sting like the devil, but he also recognized a feminine ploy to extract information.

Still she was so guileless in her attempt, he couldn’t help but indulge her. “No younger siblings to take care of if that’s what you’re asking.” He reached for a fresh piece of cotton to pat down her hand and then opened the antibiotic cream.

Using his thumbs, he gently rubbed the center of her palms, massaging the ointment into her pale but soft skin—skin marred only by the bruises inflicted when she’d hit the sidewalk. The urge to lift her hand to his lips and ease her pain was strong.

The urge to comfort warred with the more primal desire to wrap her in his arms and protect her from harm. And it had nothing to do with the case.

Damn, but Grace Montgomery was trouble.

“How about children?” she asked.

At the blunt, out-of-the-blue question, his finger pressed against her hand too hard and she let out a gasp. “Sorry. Jeez, Grace, if you want to know something, just come out and ask.” He glanced up at her sheepish expression.

An embarrassed but endearing smile worked its way onto her lips. “You caught me, I guess.”

He laughed. “Let’s just say your investigating skills need some brushing up.”

She shrugged. “Good thing you’re just the man to teach me.” She paused. “Unless there’s a wife, child or girlfriend I don’t know about?” Curiosity and hope mingled in her warm brown eyes.

“No wife and child, no girlfriend and no exes with kids, either. But I meant brushing up on more discreet ways of getting information.” He peeled open the ridiculous-looking bandages with the purple dinosaur and patched her hands as best he could. “I’ll make a drugstore run later and pick up something better to cover those hands, at least until they’re feeling better.”

She glanced down at his handiwork. “You don’t need to make a special trip. I can live with Barney until tomorrow.”

He ignored her protest. If a drugstore trip was the only way he could escape he’d take it in a heartbeat. He ignored the devilish voice in his head reminding him of what other items could be found at a drugstore should the need arise, and he refocused on her injuries. “Okay, now for your neck.”

She winced at the thought of him repeating the procedure on the burn left by the heavy camera strap rubbing against her skin.

“I think we can forget the antiseptic and just go with the cream.”

She exhaled a sigh of relief. “Sounds good.”

“Let’s see.”

As she brushed long strands of hair off the side of her neck, she made room for him to take a look—by spreading her legs and letting him step inside. Surrounded by her feminine heat and intoxicating scent, Ben realized he was in trouble.

Fingertips covered with ointment, he touched her neck as gently as possible. A tremor shook her body, and her thighs clamped shut, enclosing him in her warmth. An echoing shudder overtook him.

He had to clear his throat in order to speak and, even then, his voice came out a hoarse whisper. “Can we skip the bandages, too?”

She turned her head and her face was a tempting millimeter from his, her lips within kissing distance. His mind demanded he walk away. His body refused to listen to reason. He opened his mouth to speak, to prevent the inevitable, when she took advantage of his indecision and touched her lips to his.

Hot. Sweet. Demanding. Giving. The swirl of emotions flowed inside him as urgently as her tongue swept inside his mouth. Her hands gripped his forearms, heedless of the scrapes on her palms, and her nails dug into his skin.

Good judgment be damned, Ben thought and answered her silent plea, sealing his lips over hers. She moaned and he swallowed the sound, threading his fingers into her hair. The strands felt like fine silk beneath his fingertips, a stark contrast to the hardness building inside him.

A shred of sanity remained—the part of him that knew he ought to stop now, before things went any further. He grabbed her wrist, calling for her attention.

She tilted her head back. Eyes glazed with desire, she met and held his gaze—until the ringing of the telephone shocked him back into reality.

He tried to push back, but Grace’s legs held him tight. “Let the machine get it.” Her soft stare never left his and her labored breathing matched the beat of his heart.

Three short rings later he heard Grace’s husky voice directing callers to leave a message, followed by a beep and a too-familiar voice.

One guaranteed to instill guilt. “Hello, Grace. It’s been too long since I’ve heard your voice. I want to know how you’re getting along in the big, lonely city. Met anyone interesting lately? You know I wouldn’t mind a great-grandchild from you before I pass on. And if that’s too much to ask, how about a little information about your life instead? After all, the woman who raised you ought to…” A beep cut Emma’s voice off, indicating the older woman had run out of time.

But not wind. Ben had a hunch she’d still be rambling if the machine hadn’t taken care of the problem. Somehow he managed to stifle a combination laugh at Emma and self-directed groan. He wasn’t supposed to know Grace’s grandmother—any more than he was supposed to be kissing Grace.

The grip on his waist loosened and he took advantage. He stepped back into the safety zone, out from between her legs and out of her reach.

She gestured toward the telephone. “I’m sorry.” Her voice didn’t sound much steadier than he felt at the moment. “Emma, my grandmother, has impeccable timing, even long distance.”

“She sounds like quite a character.”

“Oh, she is. But a lovable one, and she worries about me.”

“What was it she started to say? She raised you?”

Grace nodded. “She was the only adult in the house who cared about me and my brother—about how we felt, not how we appeared to the outside world. I adore her.” Warmth and kindness softened her voice.

Her relationship with Emma seemed to parallel Ben and his mother’s and he could understand her strong feelings for the woman who’d raised and cared for her. “Then I’d say you were lucky to have her around.”

Grace laughed wryly. “You can’t possibly feel that way now.”

Considering Emma had placed him firmly back in reality, reminding him of his job and what his relationship with Grace was supposed to be, Ben most definitely appreciated her call.

“But she has good reason to worry, wouldn’t you say?” He turned the conversation back to Emma’s message.

Grace’s gaze darted from his. “Until today, not really,” she said, lightly.

Her soft laugh didn’t fool him. This afternoon’s attack had shaken her up more than she was willing to admit. Why else had she sought to release her adrenaline with that heart-stopping kiss?

“Why don’t you just stop by every once in a while and reassure her?” Ben asked, to keep conversation flowing. But he hated lying to her, even by implication.