Free Reilly's Return by Tami Hoag

behaved. He was coming on with all the finesse of a steamroller. “Like a brother, eh? Well, that’s okay then, I guess. I don’t reckon we’ll step on each other’s toes, seein’ how what I feel for you ain’t brotherly in the least.”
    Jayne tried to ignore the wave of warmth that swept down her body along with Reilly’s heated gaze. “Oh, thanks for your permission, Reilly,” she said sardonically. “You can’t know what it means to me.”
    He chuckled at the feisty look she was giving him. Damn, but she was cute. “You’re welcome, luv,” he said with a grin, dimple flashing. “Ask for it any time you like.”
    Jayne nearly choked on the urge to scream and laugh at him at once. She shook a tiny fist under his nose instead, unsuccessfully fighting back a grin. “Darn you, Reilly. You tempt me to say a very naughty word.”
    “Really?” he questioned, one golden brow sketching upward. There was a thoroughly wicked gleam in his eye as his hand closed around her slender wrist. “You tempt me to act out five or six I can think of.”
    He knew he shouldn’t do it, but when he got this close to Jayne, when he touched her, what little caution he possessed vanished. When he touched her, desire flared through him unchecked. All he could think of was wanting her and having her and how damn good it was going to be. Control was like a word from a foreign language, and discretion sounded even stranger.
    “Lord, you do tempt me, Jaynie,” he murmured, his warm breath fanning the soft skin of her hand as he raised it to his lips.
    Keeping her gaze locked with his, he slowly brushed his lips across her knuckles. Pure male satisfaction thrummed through him as he gauged herresponse. Her eyes darkened to purest black. Her ripe, moist lips parted slightly, invitingly, and he doubted she was even aware of the small sound of yearning that escaped them. He was very aware of it; it pierced his chest and burned a path to his groin.
    Feeling reckless, he drew his mouth across her knuckles again, this time letting his tongue ride slowly over each ridge and valley. Jayne went pale. Beneath her purple T-shirt her small firm breasts rose and fell, nipples straining against the fabric.
    “Stop it,” she whispered, nearly incapable of speech. Fear rippled through her. What was she going to do? She was losing herself. She could feel Reilly’s awesome power taking her over. That he could wield so much control over her with so simple an act was terrifying. She couldn’t handle this kind of intensity.
    Reilly could feel her pulling away from him emotionally. He could sense her fear. He was in danger of crossing a line he had promised Jayne he wouldn’t cross. No matter how badly he wanted to, he wouldn’t take the seduction any further. That final step would have to be hers, or he would lose her. That prospect was not acceptable.
    Immediately he toned down his overwhelming sexuality, leashed his desire. He gave Jayne a gentle smile. Turning her hand over, he pressed asweet kiss to the fragile skin of her wrist and nuzzled the unusual gold bracelet she wore.
    “What’s this, Jaynie?” he asked, fingering the delicate charm that dangled from the chain, wondering dimly why it seemed to turn so warm against his skin. “The key to your heart?”
    Something like that, Jayne thought. Reilly, whose psyche was well grounded in mundane reality, wasn’t liable to understand about the bracelet. She decided not even to try to explain the power that small piece of gold held. The only person who truly understood it was the person who had given it to her—Bryan.
    “Maybe it’s the key to my heart,” Reilly murmured. The sincerity in his gaze made her breath catch. She didn’t resist as he drew her hand to his chest and flattened her palm over his heart. Even through his khaki shirt she could feel his warmth, the hardness of his pectoral muscles, the steady thud of his heart.
    “Thanks for lettin’ me stay, Jaynie,” he said softly.