Body Heat. Carly Phillips
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Brianne stood. She raised her gaze, and her breath caught in her throat. Her fantasy man stood before her—and he wasn’t dressed. Unless she considered a couple of small towels, one around his waist and another around his shoulders, being dressed. She didn’t, not when the parts that were uncovered were so muscular and spectacular. And he was tanned golden brown, except for the teasing glimpses of white skin below his waist, which disappeared beneath a towel that covered parts she didn’t even want to think about.
Yes, she admitted, she did. She wanted to do more than think about them, and those illicit thoughts were rampaging as fast as her beating heart. Needing oxygen desperately, she tried to suck in a breath, then forced her gaze upward to meet his shocked stare.
“You’re not Rina,” he said.
Just as Brianne shook her head and wondered if he was disappointed, a sexy grin lifted his lips into the most unbelievable smile.
Breathe, she silently ordered.
“I didn’t think you could be her. The limo picked her up for the airport a while ago.”
Her eyes strayed to the towel riding low on his hips. She could handle this. She had to handle this. Her hands curled into tight fists. When she’d accepted Rina’s proposition, she’d convinced herself she wouldn’t be running into him. She was sure Rina wouldn’t permit it. But she was seeing him here now.
And she’d be seeing a lot more of him, if he lived here, as she suspected he did. As if she wasn’t seeing enough already. She watched in awe as the sun reflected off his tanned, muscular chest. Brianne grew dizzy and forced herself to inhale.
He took a step closer. The clean scent of soap mixed with a masculine spiced aftershave assaulted her, until she was enveloped in his essence. She couldn’t take any more, not if she was going to maintain any dignity. “Don’t move,” she ordered. “Do not take another step.”
“She speaks. And here I thought you were mute.”
“Very funny,” she muttered.
“Why can’t I come closer?” He folded his arms low on his chest.
Damn, she wished he wouldn’t do things that drew her attention to his body. Thanks to the many nights she’d spent fantasizing about him, her own body was on edge—her skin sensitized, her senses too aware of him. It didn’t matter that they’d never actually met until now. This was a man she’d taken into her home, into her bed with her at night. And she now worked for the woman with whom he was involved. Brianne couldn’t pretend the knowledge didn’t bother her any more than she could pretend he didn’t affect her.
Forget the money, there was no way she could take this job.
As if he could read her thoughts, Norton whined once, then placed his head down on the marble floor and looked up at her with soulful eyes. But when her fantasy man braced the knuckles of one hand beneath her chin and tipped her head upward so their eyes met and their gazes locked, she forgot all about the wrinkled dog.
His masculine fingertips were hot against her skin, branding where they touched. “You look like you’re about to faint.”
His body heat was potent. The urge to wrap herself around him and let his damp skin meld with hers was strong. Too strong. “I asked you not to come closer.”
“And I asked you, why not? You never answered.”
His eyes were a deep shade of blue, she realized for the first time, so dark they could be black, but with a hint of navy—or was it indigo?—giving them depth and interest.
She searched for a response that wouldn’t leave her humiliated, and found none. She certainly couldn’t tell him the truth. If he was a mind reader, she might as well jump off the roof of this very high, luxury building.
When she remained silent, he groaned and dropped his hand. “Okay, let’s back up and try this again. I didn’t know Rina was expecting company. Hell, I didn’t know you and Rina even knew each other.”
Without his touch, she was able to focus a little more. “We met last week. And Rina’s not expecting me exactly, her brother is.”
He raised an eyebrow in definite surprise. “He is?”
“I assume so. Rina said she’d let him know I’d be coming. I’m Brianne Nelson.” Good manners dictated she extend her hand for a greeting. Self-preservation demanded she never touch him again. Considering he still stood in a towel and nothing more, Brianne figured she’d be forgiven for her lapse in social graces.
“Brianne,” he murmured. Her name seemed to roll off his tongue. “Beautiful. It suits you.”
“Thank you.”
He nodded. “So tell me, why do you think Rina’s brother is expecting you?”
Brianne narrowed her eyes. Wouldn’t Rina have mentioned she’d hired someone as her brother’s physical therapist? Or was their relationship so shallow, they didn’t discuss anything of emotional importance? Somehow, she didn’t think so. Brianne had sensed a depth to Rina, an innate sense of decency and caring. Much as Brianne would have enjoyed disliking the other woman, she just couldn’t, which suddenly made this conversation even stranger than it already was.
She opted for minimal explanation. “I’m a physical therapist.” She didn’t like the speculative gleam that came into his eye.
“I thought you were a waitress.”
Belatedly, she realized she knew no more about him than when she’d walked in, and she disliked being at a disadvantage. “You know, this has become a very lopsided conversation. You know my name and occupations, but I know nothing about you.”
“You know how I look fresh out of a shower,” he said with a grin. “And that’s an awful lot more than I know about you.” He seared her with his deep eyes and a meaningful glance.
“That isn’t what I meant.”
He shook his head and laughed. “Sorry. Let’s start over.”
“We tried that already.” She folded her arms across her chest—to cover her body’s reaction to his heated stare and to ease the slow-building ache in her breasts.
“Then, let’s do it till we get it right.” He extended his hand.
In his eyes, she saw a definite challenge, as if he knew how much his touch affected her and dared her to grasp his hand, anyway. She had grown up with a younger brother and had learned to never back down from a dare. She steeled herself and placed her hand inside his.
“Jake Lowell,” he said. “Nice to meet you, Brianne.” He curled his large fingers around her smaller hand. Although she thought she’d been prepared, the connection between them was strong and sure—heated in a distinctly physical way and warm in a purely seductive one.
Without