Hot Item (Hot Zone 3)

“Then why the hesitation? And why the tears now?”

She smiled. “I was just surprised, that’s all. I’m usually the one in charge of taking care of everyone else.”

He extended his hand again, this time grasping her hand in his. “Well, it’s time you let yourself go. If you’re exhausted, feel it. If you’re going through a release of tension, then collapse. I’m here to catch you,” he said in a gruff voice and pulled her to her feet.

She stood, but to her surprise, her knees buckled, another rush of light-headedness assaulting her.

He was there in an instant, wrapping his arm around her waist and leading her to the bedroom. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Um…lunch, I think?”

“And you drank on an empty stomach? For a smart woman, that was pretty stupid.” He flicked the light switch and her night-table lamp flickered to life.

“I had some peanuts,” she said, her words not much of a defense.

“If you think you’ll be all right alone in here, why don’t you change into something comfortable and I’ll see what I can scrounge up in your kitchen?”

“I’ll be fine.” But she chuckled at his other comment. “I take it your own kitchen is pretty bare?”

He cocked his head to one side. “I’m a bachelor. What do you think?”

She opened her dresser drawers, pulling out a change of clothes. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised by what you find in mine. The question is what you’re able to do with it.”

He shook his head and laughed. “Oh ye of little faith. My mother loves to cook as a way to release the stresses of living with a man constantly on the run and scheduling events. If I was home, I’d sit and watch her. Sometimes I even helped. I can get by.” He winked at her and headed for the kitchen.

Her knees turned weak, but this time not because she was hungry. At least not for anything except this sexy man who seemed to want nothing more than to tend to her every need.

At least for now. A little voice in her head warned her to tread lightly and carefully, to accept what he offered now but not to read anything into

it for the future. Which was fine with her. She knew herself. Knew what would happen if she and Riley even attempted to make this…this…thing between them work long term.

She already knew what would happen. To keep the fear of losing him at bay, she’d compensate with her need to control and end up trying to control him. Like she had with Uncle Yank’s vision problems and then with his broken hip. Like she had with her sisters until they’d argued back. Like she had with prior men in her life who hadn’t meant nearly as much to her as Riley already did.

She’d already stepped into his hang-ups in Florida. Without a doubt, she’d blow it with him again. It was only a matter of time before an independent, free-spirited man like Riley would run again, this time for good.

Better to remember to protect herself first. That settled, she quickly changed into silky drawstring pants and a matching T-shirt, then washed up for the night.

She devoured Riley’s delicious and impressive fluffy omelet loaded with freshly chopped vegetables and cheese, along with toast and a large glass of orange juice before heading off to bed. With Riley by her side.

RILEY WATCHED Sophie sleep. No sooner had she crawled beneath the covers than she passed out cold. Of course there had been the few seconds when she’d moved and wrangled beneath the light yellow bedding. While his imagination had been running wild with thoughts of what she could be doing under there, suddenly her pajama bottoms had come flying out from beneath the covers.

“I can’t sleep with pants on,” she’d explained through a yawn, oblivious to how those words had turned him on.

Then she’d fluffed her pillow, laid her head down and promptly fallen asleep, leaving him worked up on top of the comforter—where he planned to stay, for her sake as well as his own.

She needed her sleep. He needed her. There was no point in denying the obvious. It was a fight within himself that he was destined to lose. He had no choice but to go with the flow. See where this thing took him. That she’d let him bring her home was a sign she was softening toward him.

With his ex-wife, everything had been a rush. He blamed it on the foolishness of youth. They had to have each other, had to get married right away, had to have unprotected sex and of course Lisa had ended up pregnant—even though three or four nights a week, Riley would come home later and later to avoid the inevitable argument. Why couldn’t he work out at home? Why did he have to hang out with the guys after a game? They were all wrong for each other, he and Lisa. But they had done one thing right and that was his daughter.

He needed to make peace with Lizzie. She needed to accept that he was her parent as well as her friend. And he knew just how to make it happen and who could help him accomplish his goal. He rolled over and propped his head on his hand and continued to watch Sophie sleep.

Her hands were beneath her cheek as she breathed in and out evenly. Without makeup and with her hair tousled around her face, she looked softer and more vulnerable. The kind of woman who was capable of reaching out to Lizzie without earning her disdain and snotty attitude. Oh, she’d start off trying to control the situation but his badass daughter would quickly learn that Sophie Jordan couldn’t be manipulated.

He grinned, satisfied with his decision and looking forward to the fireworks. He’d never let Lizzie meet any woman he’d been involved with before. Never even considered it. But as he’d thought many times before, Sophie wasn’t just any woman.

Unable to fight the urge, he reached out and stroked her hair near her temple. She shifted slightly, sighed and settled back into deep slumber. Meanwhile he had a hard-on to match the Empire State Building, he thought, resigning himself to a long, sleepless night.

SOPHIE AWOKE at seven o’clock as always without the help of an alarm clock. She’d never had to use one, because she was always prompt—anal, as Uncle Yank liked to tease her. She immediately remembered that Riley hadn’t left her alone last night and she rolled over, already sensing he’d gone.