“What are you thinking about?” he asked suddenly. “Your face is flushed and your eyes look hungry. Starved, actually.”
Katie’s cheeks reddened, and she jerked her attention to where it belonged. “I’m not going to bed with you, okay?” Oh my Lord, she thought the second the words escaped her mouth. She might as well have asked him if he wanted to finger paint her naked body with caramel-and-chocolate ice cream and lick it off.
A knowing, masculine chuckle filled the small cab.
Thankfully, he didn’t reply and the rest of the ride passed in silence, a silence she was now grateful for.
At home, she found Jorlan a Dallas PD T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants Gray had left behind. While Gray had always looked relaxed and cozy in the clothing, like a man spending a lazy day at home on the couch, watching TV and eating Twinkies, Jorlan looked eatable. His rock-solid build stretched the material and showcased every inch of his brawn. Had any other man ever looked so indecent in sweatpants?
Note to self: Write Hanes a very stern letter about what’s appropriate in leisure wear.
P.S. Never invite Gray over again. His clothes are obscene.
Katie ambled into the living room, her newly clothed alien not far behind her. His gaze scalded her back, causing heat to percolate just underneath her skin. She stopped, whipped around, ready to demand he glance away. She froze instead. By the sparkle in his eyes, she knew he was planning something naughty—like removing her clothing piece by piece. Far from angering her, the thought made her heart leap with anticipation. Damn him! The man was too appealing for his own good, and at the moment he was standing way too close for her peace of mind.
She needed space and some sort of brain enema.
She stepped away.
He followed. Their gazes were locked and the space between them crackled with awareness. “If you ask, I will massage my hands in your hair, katya, and set each strand free from confinement.”
Unable to help herself, she gazed at the hands in question. They were blunt, hard hands, clean yet well-worked. The hands of a warrior. Yet, she thought, under the right circumstances, they were probably capable of extreme gentleness and unending tenderness—a massage being one of those circumstances.
Before he could sense her growing willingness, however, she planted her hands on her hips and strove for a flippant tone. “The day I ask you to touch my hair is the day I cook you a seven-course meal.” Which meant it would never happen. She wasn’t his slave, and besides that, she hated, hated to cook.
But never was such a strong word. She probably wouldn’t cook him a meal. No, that didn’t work either. She might not cook him a meal. Damn, damn, damn. If only the sexual tension between them didn’t generate enough electricity to light the entire state of Texas.
Jorlan inclined his head. A dark eyebrow arched and his expression was amused, as if he’d somehow listened to her internal deliberation. The corners of his mouth rose in that knowing grin she was beginning to despise. “Now I will not just make you ask for my touch, katya. I will make you beg for it. Over and over again.”
His raspy tone suggested he possessed a sexual knowledge that went beyond the Kama Sutra. When most men spoke, their voice rated no higher than an Encyclopedia Britannica on her Knee Weakening Radar. But Jorlan’s sensuality blared like a cataclysmic force of nature, and he definitely tipped the scales.
The crux of Katie’s problem was that she didn’t have much experience in dealing with such a sex-minded, eager man. Such blatant, in-your-face masculinity had certainly never been present in any of the men she’d dated. Plus, her intimidating height and take-charge attitude kept most advances at bay.
Most of all, she just didn’t possess the soft, angelic beauty that inspired ardor. She knew it. Everyone else knew it, but that didn’t seem to bother Jorlan. And maybe that was why he affected her so strongly. Why every moment she spent with him caused her fortitude to wilt a bit more. He was the first man ever to look at her as if she were a succulent morsel to be devoured in one tasty bite.
What if she was never able to find this type of chemistry again? Never find a man who made her feel like a woman, a woman with needs and desires? If she didn’t grab onto Jorlan while she had the chance—
Wait! Good God, what was she thinking? He wasn’t even touching her and already she was about to beg for his embrace. She needed to douse the budding fire within them both before the flames spread and became unstoppable.
Time to begin “Spending the Night with Katie Orientation.”
She motioned for him to sit on the couch. He shook his head no.
Why am I surprised? “Would you please sit down?”
He did, grinning all the while.
“Now,” she began. “I believe I’ve already mentioned this in the rules, but it bears mentioning again. Except while bathing, you must remain dressed, both inside and outside of this house. Otherwise you will be arrested and thrown in jail for indecent exposure.” Or magnificent exposure if the arresting officer was female.
“After you broke the spell, I was not taken prisoner while I stood unclothed in the garden,” he pointed out. “And I think you know that bathing is not the only time clothes are a hindrance. What about a long bout of pummeling?”
“As you won’t be getting pummeled in this house, I feel no responsibility to respond to that statement.”
He crossed his arms and gave her an amused look. “Your denials grow tiresome.”
His self-assured pitch irked her, so she placed her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Did you ever consider the fact that I could have a boyfriend? Someone I’m in love with and committed to?”
One minute blended into two, and still he didn’t answer her. She knew he’d heard every word she had spoken, though, because she’d shouted them so loudly her neighbor’s dog was barking. “Well? Did you?”
Something dark, intense and desperate kindled in his eyes, but was quickly masked with indifference. His voice was anything but indifferent, however, when he said, “If you have a man, you should not have touched me as you did. You should not have kissed me.”
Her gaze skittered guiltily away, and she noticed the light on her answering machine was flashing.
“So do you? Do you have a man?” Now his tone was as pleasant as if he’d asked, “This jelly doughnut is delicious, would you like a bite?”
Her motions clipped, she hooked a lock of escaped hair behind her ear. For some reason, she just couldn’t lie to him about this. “No, I don’t have a man.” Her tone was as incensed as if she’d said, “You ate my doughnut, you dirty bastard.”
“I see no problem, then.” This time he spoke with a husky drawl any true-blooded Texan would have been proud of. “You desire me, and I desire you. We can give each other pleasure…and mayhap even love.”
Love? She sucked in a breath. “You don’t even know me.” She paused as a thought occurred to her. “Oh my God, you’re one of those losers who tells a woman he loves her simply to get her into bed.”
“I have said nothing of loving you, katya.” His features pulled tight, revealing just how much she’d offended him. “Sometimes honor is all a man has, and I would never dishonor myself by lying about my emotions. I wished only to inform you that I would not be adverse if you offered me your heart.”
And that was just so much better, she thought dryly. “You’re a romantic at heart, Jordie. You truly are. And now I’m done with this conversation.” Katie strode to her coffee table and jabbed the play button on her answering machine.
“Hey, sis. I’m going out of town for a few days and wanted to know if I could borrow your—”
Her brother’s voice jammed to a halt when Jorlan leapt across the room and pounded the little black box into a thousand tiny pieces.
“Joorlann,” she drew out. “Why did you do that?”
“I sensed no magic from the box and yet it spoke.” He stared down at the shattered box as if expecting the pieces to somehow reattach themselves and attack. “The device must be mighty indeed to hide such power.”
“Voice recording isn’t magical.”
He made no reply, no body movement to indicate that he’d heard her.
“From now on, if you don’t understand something, ask me about it.”
Now he gave her a you-silly-little-girl frown. “Taking time to ask questions can give the enemy an opportunity to attack.”
“My answering machine is not your enemy!”
“Not anymore,” he answered smugly.
“Damn it, Jorlan. You can’t just destroy my things. You have to—damn it,” she said again. “You made me cuss.” Katie reached inside her pocket and handed him two quarters. At his questioning eyebrow lift, she explained her quest to speak more like a lady.
He chuckled. “You owe me more than this.” He pinched the change between his fingers and held it up for inspection. “Since the moment you first kissed me, your many expletives have nigh singed my ears.”