Grace Under Fire (Buchanan-Renard 14)

Michael answered her. “You and I are both on the third floor. Come on, I’ll go up with you.”

He picked up her bag and followed her up the stairs. They climbed to the second floor and then to the third. She was thinking she could get a nosebleed this high up. He was thinking what a great ass she had.

There were two sconces on either side of the narrow hallway, barely lighting their passageway.

“It’s so quiet and private up here,” she remarked.

The bedrooms were across from each other with a bathroom in between. Michael opened both bedroom doors. “The rooms have queen-size beds.”

“Is that big enough for you?” she asked, smiling.

He shrugged. “I can sleep anywhere.”

Michael placed her bag on a chair adjacent to the window. Banging his head against the ceiling when he turned around, he muttered an expletive. “I can’t seem to remember the ceiling slopes up here.”

“I think it’s cozy.”

“Let me know if you need anything,” he said as he was walking out.

“Good night, Michael.”

Isabel looked around at her room. The walls were a pale blue with matching curtains, and there was a quilt on the bed that had all the colors of the ocean. It was charming. It wasn’t the Hamilton. It was better. She felt safe here.

While she unpacked and changed into her pajama shorts and top, Michael showered. She waited until he’d gone into his bedroom before she went into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. She was just about to shut her door and get into bed when she remembered she needed to charge her phone. Neither the phone nor the charger was in her duffel bag. She checked every pocket twice, then dumped everything out of her purse and searched through all the clutter. Not finding it, she stuffed the things she never left home without back into her bag, muttering all the while, even tossing in a few unladylike blasphemies, then decided to ask Michael if he knew where they were. After all, he had helped her pack.

She turned around, and there he was, leaning against the doorframe with her phone and charger in his hand. He hadn’t made a sound, and she wondered how long he’d been standing there. And oh, did he look good. He wore a pair of khaki shorts he hadn’t bothered to button and a white T-shirt that was molded to his body. The man was all muscle and heat, and she had the insane impulse to run to him and throw herself into his arms.

Michael didn’t budge from where he stood. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. God knows he tried. He knew that if he walked into her bedroom he wouldn’t be leaving. He tossed her phone and charger on her bed, then crossed his arms so he wouldn’t reach for her.

The same question nagged at him again. What the hell had happened to him? This time he knew the answer. Isabel had happened. His discipline and control vanished whenever he was around her. All he wanted to think about was touching her, and how messed up was that? She was all wrong for him, and he was definitely all wrong for her. Isabel was young and unaware of the treachery in the world; he was hardened by what he had seen and done and very familiar with treachery. His cynicism would wear her down and eventually destroy the goodness and joy inside her. Being together would end in disaster.

Michael knew she couldn’t handle a casual affair. And with Isabel, neither could he. She was so different from all the other women he’d known. She looked at the world the way he wanted to, and maybe that was yet another reason he was drawn to her.

There was also another deterrent, the fact that she was Dylan’s sister-in-law. Michael knew he’d never hear the end of it if he got involved with her. And yet he was in the mood to ignore all of his reasons to leave her alone.

Isabel couldn’t imagine what was going on in his mind. He looked angry and perplexed at the same time. “Michael? What are you thinking about? You look so serious.”

He didn’t hesitate answering her. “I think you’re probably the sexiest woman I’ve ever known.”

Astounded, she whispered, “Oh.” Then, “But you’ve never even kissed me.” Frowning now, she walked over to stand in front of him. “I think you should.”

Michael loved that she was blushing. Damn, she was sweet. “Yeah?” he said.

She slowly nodded. “Then you’d know.”

Smiling, he said, “Yeah, then I’d know.”

Staring into his eyes, she slowly put her arms around his neck. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry, but she was suddenly impatient. She pulled on his hair so he would tilt his head toward her. She kissed the pulse at the base of his neck, using her tongue to tickle his skin, then kissed his chin, and with a sigh she tugged on his earlobe with her teeth.

Michael’s heart felt as though it were slamming against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight against him as his open mouth came down on hers. Her mouth was so warm; her lips were incredibly soft, and her tongue rubbing against his drove him crazy. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her as his mouth slanted over hers. No other woman had ever affected him like this. He kept trying to bring her closer. His hands cupped her backside, lifting her up until her pelvis was pressed against him, and he growled low in his throat when she moved.

The kiss went on and on and kept getting hotter.

Michael knew he was losing control and abruptly drew back. “We’ve got to stop this,” he said, and then he kissed her again, longer, harder, until both of them were shaking.

He came to his senses before she did. His hands had moved under her pajama top, and he was stroking the sides of her breasts. If he didn’t stop, he would rip her clothes off and take her right then and there. It took all his strength to pull away from her. He saw the passion in her beautiful eyes and knew he’d rattled her, but then she’d done the same to him.

“I like kissing you.” She whispered her confession and waited to see what he would do.

He didn’t say a word. He simply stepped back into the hallway and pulled the door closed behind him.

Isabel stared at the door for a while, then walked to the window and gazed out at the night ocean. The moon cast a silver light on the water. It was churned up tonight, and the whitecaps looked like fat marshmallows. She smiled over the silly comparison.

Her mind wouldn’t settle. She didn’t know how long she stood there while she tried to make sense of what was happening to her, but she knew she couldn’t avoid the truth any longer. She was actually beginning to like Dumbass.

God help her now.