hair.
âRuss,â she panted, lifting her head. âIâ¦I think we should stop now.â
âIn a minute.â Grasping her by the waist, he dragged her against him and groaned.
Taylor did, too.
He was so hard. She was so soft.
Man to woman.
Cowboy to Lady.
They fit together so perfectly.
Drawing in deep, shuddering breaths, Russ buried his face in the curve of her neck. It took him several seconds to regain control of himself.
It took Taylor even longer.
He raised his head and smoothed the hair from her face. âIâve changed my mind,â he murmured. âI will take that coffee, after all.â
Grateful for something to occupy herself, Taylor moved to the counter where she kept her coffeemaker. While waiting for the aromatic coffee to drip through, she got two mugs and placed them on a tray. She was so absorbed in her task that when she turned around she nearly collided with Russ.
He took the tray from her hands and carried it into the living room. âI think itâs time we cleared the air,â he said, setting their mugs on the oak coffee table.
âIn what way?â Taylor asked, perching on the edge of the sofa cushion.
âAbove all else, weâve got to be honest with each other.â
âRight.â
Taylor sipped from her mug, the scalding coffee too hot to savor or appreciate.
âAre you wearing a bra?â he asked unexpectedly.
âWhat?â She jerked forward, setting her cup back on the tray to avoid spilling hot coffee down her front. It sloshed over the edges of the mug.
Taylorâs mouth gaped as she glared at him. âIs that the kind of honesty youâre interested in?â Unable to sit still, she got up and started pacing, so furious she was tempted to throw him out of her home.
âIâm sorry. Forget I asked. I was holding you and it felt as if you werenât and the question justâ¦slipped out. Youâre rightâthat was a stupid question.â
He lowered his eyes, and Taylor noted that his ears were red. As red as Harry Donovanâs had been when heâd asked her to dance. Russ Palmer embarrassed? The very thought was inconceivable.
Stepping around the low table, Taylor sat back down and reached for her coffee. âAs a matter of fact, no.â
Russ closed his eyes as though in pain. âYou shouldnât have told me.â He took a gulp of coffee, then stood abruptly. âMaybe itâd be best if I left now.â
âI thought you wanted to talk. I refuse to answer personal questions like the last one, but I think youâre right about us being honest with each other.â
Now it was Russâs turn to do the pacing. He stood and stalked across her living room carpet and then back again as if he intended to wear a pattern in it.
âRuss?â
He rammed his fingers through his hair and turned to face her. âIf you want honesty, Iâll give it to you, Taylor, but Iâll guarantee you arenât going to like what I have to say.â
She wasnât sure she was up to this. But, on the other hand, she didnât want him to leave, either. âJust say it.â
âAll right,â he said sharply. âRight now, I want you so damn much I canât even think straight.â He raked one hand down his face. âDoes that shock you?â
âNo,â she cried softly.
âWell, it should.â
Holding the mug so tightly that it burned her palms, Taylor gathered her courage. âEarlier I objected when you called me your lady. The lady part wasnât what offended me. It might be an old-fashioned term, but I am a lady. And Iâll always be a lady.â
Russ frowned. âI know that, Taylor. No one can look at you and not realize the kind of woman you are.â
âI have no intention of falling into bed with you, Russ. I wish I understood why weâre so attracted to each other, but I donât. I do know weâre playing