In her mind, he'd come to her. Held her. Closed his mouth over hers, and the world had fallen away.

In reality, everything had blown up, including her fantasies.

"You

're a fool, Eva Anderson. And you need to get over yourself."

True enough, and to punctuate the thought she got undressed, found the fluffy hotel bathrobe in the closet, and settled down on the bed to find the stupidest, most mundane program she could. She'd let the power of bad television drain her mind and tomorrow when she saw Tyree again, they could both act like adults.

Adults who'd moved on with their lives.

Because that, of course, was who and what they were.

She was just dozing off to a rerun of an eighties sitcom when a sharp rap at her door jolted her back to consciousness.

Elena.

Still half-asleep, she rolled out of bed, tiny prickles of trepidation urging her to hurry. Why on earth had she told Elena to come tomorrow? She should have insisted the girl come tonight. Anytime tonight. After all, her daughter had just met her father for the first time; of course she needed her mom now.

With a quick tug to tighten her robe, she hurried to the door, and yanked it open.

Then she froze. She just simply froze.

Because it wasn't Elena standing there. It was Tyree.

"Oh," she said, then wished she could surreptitiously pound her head against a wall. "I wasn't expecting you."

Also another piece of conversational brilliance. Yeah, she was doing great tonight.

Those kind eyes she'd seen in her fantasy were focused intently on her--on all of her--and she was suddenly acutely aware of exactly how much nothing she had on under her robe.

She pulled it even tighter, and he cleared his throat, then shifted his eyes to her face. She blushed, and at the same time she desperately wished she'd known he was coming. The bathrobe was hardly flattering. If anything it accentuated the twenty pounds she'd put on over the years, most of which had gone straight to her hips.

"I'm sorry to show up unannounced," he said in that low voice that flowed like honey. "I thought you wouldn't see me if I called first."

A hint of a smile softened his words, but the truth was, he was right; she absolutely wouldn't have.

She conjured a smile of her own, to let him know it was okay. Especially since she knew perfectly well who his cohort in crime had been. The Driskill was far too classy a hotel to randomly give out a guest's room number.

"Can I come in?"

She glanced down at her robe, then over her shoulder at the mussed bed. "That would be no."

"I promise not to ravage you," he said, and though it was clear he meant the words innocently, the way they teased her senses was anything but. Her nipples peaked and her inner thighs tingled, and she wanted to kick herself for reacting like a hormonal teenager, but a year-long dry spell would do that to a woman.

"Not to challenge your integrity, but I don't think it's a good idea. Besides, what would your wife think?"

The moment the words were out, she knew she'd made a mistake. His smile faded and a shadow crossed his face, filling those wonderful eyes with sorrow.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean--"

"She passed away. Seven years ago."

Eva swallowed, then had to forcibly fight the urge to invite him in after all so that she could comfort him. "I saw the picture. Your ring. I just assumed..."

He looked down at his hand. "I didn't even realize."

She cleared her throat. His loss hung between them, almost palpable. And for one horrible, hateful moment, Eva felt a stab of jealousy for the dead woman.

Tags: J. Kenner Man of the Month Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net