Free Free Falling by Debra Webb Page A

his arms
over his chest. “You’ll have to have her or you’ll never be any
good around here.”
    “I don’t want to have her!” Mac snarled.
    “Hey, buddy, I’m on your side. But I promise
you, now that you’ve kissed her, you’ll never stop thinking about
her if you don’t have her. But once you’ve had her, you’ll realize
that she’s just like any other woman, and all will be well in your
world again.”
    Mac exhaled noisily. “What if it doesn’t
work?”
    Jake’s smile widened with genuine confidence.
“Oh, it’ll work all right. I’ve never met a woman yet, no matter
how intriguing she appeared, that wasn’t just like all the rest
when you got down to the nitty-gritty.”
    Mac had to admit that the idea of making love
to Free Renzetti was more than a little appealing. She did seem
just as attracted to him as he was to her. “Do me a favor, will
you?”
    “Name it,” Jake offered without
hesitation.
    “I don’t usually get involved with women I
know nothing about,” he began, then exhaled in frustration. “Under
normal circumstances I prefer career-oriented women with whom I
have similar interests.” He shrugged. “Or common goals. I don’t
know anything about her past.”
    “I have a source who can do an informal
background search, if that’s what you need,” Jake suggested.
    Mac nodded. “That would be good.”
    Maybe that was the answer. Maybe he would
succumb to a brief affair with his gypsy neighbor. Maybe if he had
her, just once, he could get her out of his system and then he
could get back on track. That, Mac decided wearily, was a hell of a
lot of maybes.
     
    ~*~
     
    Free stripped, dropping her clothes at her
feet. She pinned her hair haphazardly atop her head and stepped
gingerly into the deep, claw-footed tub. A moan of satisfaction
vibrated inside her as the hot water and frothy bubbles enveloped
her. After a hard day’s work there was nothing in the world like a
long, hot bubble bath. Today, like all Mondays, had been a killer.
Everybody wanted everything now on the first day of the work
week. Free leaned back against the smooth, porcelain surface and
closed her eyes in ecstasy.
    Slowly, she concentrated on relaxing her
muscles. First, her tight, achy neck; next, the tired, strained
shoulder muscles. The tension and stress of the day dissolved as
the warmth eased her body. The neck-deep water caressed her skin
like a lover’s touch. Free’s languid thoughts drifted to that day
in the Bower Street house when Mac had kissed her. The memory of
their first kiss in his kitchen joined the vivid mental pictures. A
wave of desire tightened her feminine core, creating another kind
of heat inside her. The man could definitely kiss.
    Free moaned softly again at the sensations
stirred by the memories as she recalled every passionate moment she
had spent in Mac’s strong arms. Though they had nothing in common,
their bodies didn’t seem to notice. Free responded to Mac as she
had to no other man. He made her ache in places she had never ached
before; he made her yearn for things she had decided she would
never need. His powerful, muscled body beckoned to her on a very
elemental level. She wanted nothing more than to spend a night
locked in his arms making long, slow love. Another wave of desire
washed over her, making her breasts tingle. And Mac’s desire for
her on both occasions had been in abundance as well. It would have
been difficult to miss that hard ridge of male flesh pressing
against her.
    Free slid her right foot over the rim of the
cool porcelain tub and focused inward on her image of Mac’s
perfectly sculpted body. She could just imagine touching that taut,
tanned skin, running her fingers over every plane and ridge. A
smile tugged at her lips as she rubbed her foot over the
contrasting coldness of the faucet. Her toes played over the old,
rough spout. Her mind centered on Mac—Mac as hard as the steel
beneath her sensitive toes, only he was molten steel, hot