Free Run the Risk by Lori Foster Page A

doors, gilding her long, dark eyelashes,
highlighting her lack of makeup. He hadn’t noticed it before, but she had
amazing skin.
    And when the hell had he ever noticed a woman’s skin, unless it
was on an interesting place on her body? “Where are you off to?”
    “Shopping.”
    “I could give you a lift.”
    “No. Thank you.” She trotted down the steps. “That’s okay.”
    “What’s the rush?” He tried a laugh that, even to him, sounded
fake as hell. But damn it, she was running from him. Still.
    First the hurried sex in the dark with her clothes on. Then the
abrupt goodbye. And now she didn’t want to take a single second to talk with
him.
    “Sorry,” she said again. “I have a lot to get done today.”
    “I could help,” he offered, but she was already shaking her
head. “Why?” he demanded. “What’s different today?”
    But he knew. Intimacy, mixed with sunshine. She wanted to keep
her damned secrets.
    He wouldn’t let her.
    Eyes wide, she stared at him. “Nothing has changed. Why would
you think it has?”
    Now, that pissed him off. He leaned toward her. “I was inside
you last night.”
    As her face went hot, she dropped her gaze to his shoulders,
then lower to his crotch. “Yes,” she breathed, and she touched his chest. “You
were deep inside me.”
    God, the way she looked at him made him feel it all over again.
His cock twitched, his heart started popping against his ribs. He covered her
hand with his own. “You liked it.”
    “I did.” She looked into his eyes and pulled her hand away.
“But that doesn’t change anything. I still can’t…” She gestured from him to
herself and back again. “Can’t. But if you want, we can still do dinner
tonight.”
    Only dinner? Like hell. He’d
squelch that idea at the first opportunity. “My place or yours?” he said as a
challenge, then wanted to smack himself when she jumped on the offer.
    “Yours.”
    Figuring her out could take a lifetime. But he’d already spent
considerable time getting to this point. He wouldn’t waste a minute more. “Okay,
sure.”
    Maybe after he had her brother, he’d be able to nail Andrews
and ultimately get justice for his best friend’s murder.
    And then he could work on unraveling the mystery of Pepper
Yates.
    He looked her over in the faded jumper that she wore over a
blouse with elbow-length sleeves. “What do you feel like?” God Almighty, she had
horrid taste in clothes. “Besides me, I mean.”
    Her eyes narrowed the tiniest bit, making them look darker and
somehow more mysterious. “Besides you—I don’t care.”
    Damn. So sex was still on the table with no effort on his part
at all?
    He’d never known a woman to be all timid one minute, then so
verbally ballsy the next.
    The contradictions left him singed.
    “I’ll be over at seven.” Tentatively, she reached out and
touched his chest again in a vague, barely-there goodbye gesture. “See you
then.”
    Logan rubbed the spot where she’d just stroked him.
    What was it about her? She may as well have stroked his junk
for the way it affected him.
    She hadn’t asked about his hand, or why he wasn’t at work, but
then, he’d already told her he didn’t work every day. And really, with her
attention on his body, who cared if she noticed a stupid injury or not?
    He didn’t.
    Before she got too far down the walkway, Logan stuck his head
out the doors. “I’m cooking barbecue.”
    Her head down, her shoulders forward, she gave a negligent wave
of her hand and kept going in a brisk walk.
    Almost like the hounds of hell dogged her heels.
    Logan watched her until she was out of sight. Damn it. He
hadn’t even realized he was staring after her until he couldn’t see her
anymore.
    He had to get it together.
    Preferably by getting her under him. Without clothes. Lights
on. And with enough time for him to explore every inch of her.
    Once he had her, all of her, then
he’d be better able to focus.
    But for now…what to do?
    He looked