Free Once a Rebel by Sheri Whitefeather Page A

nothing was on?”
    â€œIt was boring. It seemed like nothing.”
    â€œLiar,” she challenged, and made him laugh.
    â€œOkay, so it was sexy. But talking to you is better.”
    Oh, he was good, she thought. Practiced in the art of seduction. Or was it deception? At this point she couldn’t be sure. “Did you turn it off?”
    â€œNo.” He lowered his voice. “I just turned down the sound.”
    â€œSo you can still see it?”
    â€œUh-huh.”
    She imagined him angling his head, gazing at naked women on the screen. Or maybe he was viewing naked couples. Soft porn or whatever the Playboy Channel promoted.
    â€œTell me what your room looks like,” he said.
    When her mouth went dry, she moistened her lips. “Which room? The one in San Francisco or the one I’m staying in here?”
    â€œWhere you’re at now. I want to picture the bed. I want to imagine you in it.”
    Uh-oh. She should have known better than to call a man after midnight. Especially a hunky Texan who admitted that he wanted to sleep with her.
    â€œWhat color are the sheets?” he pressed.
    â€œWhite.”
    â€œAnd the blanket?”
    â€œMauve.”
    â€œWhat’s that? Pink?”
    â€œYes, but it’s sort of an icy pink. Like nail polish or lipstick.”
    â€œMmm.” He made a moaning sound. “So it’s a girlie room?”
    â€œIt’s the same one I had when I lived here. It was always sort of girlie. A female guest room, I guess.” She pictured him in the hunting cabin, stretched out on the sofa bed, talking to her and watching naughty TV. A hot-blooded male in a primal environment.
    â€œI wish you were here,” he said. “Or I was there.”
    â€œMe, too,” she admitted, knowing they were playing a dangerous game. The next time they saw each other, this conversation would float between them like a dream. “But this is crazy. We’re crazy.”
    His voice turned raw. “I know.”
    Susan wondered if he was aroused, hard and thick against his jeans or whatever he was wearing.
    She wasn’t about to ask. “Maybe we should hang up.”
    â€œI don’t want to. Do you?”
    â€œNo.” She couldn’t bear to lose him, to sever the tie. Not yet. “Why don’t we change the subject? Think of something safe to say.”
    â€œLike what?”
    She racked her brain, then laid eyes on Chocolate. “Your dog snores. And he sleeps with his butt in the air.”
    Ethan went silent, then chuckled under his breath. Amoment later a rustling sound came from his end of the line, as if he were moving, reaching for the remote to turn off the TV. “I forgot that damn mutt was there.”
    She smiled, grateful that she’d just blown his fantasy. And better yet, abolished the Playboy instigator. “Do you want to talk to him?”
    â€œFunny girl. Do you want to talk to the dogs that are sleeping with me?”
    A laugh bubbled from her throat. “I guess that makes us even.” He’d just blown her fantasy, too. “Maybe they should talk to each other.”
    â€œMaybe.” He took a deep breath and released it into the receiver. “Are you feeling better?”
    She nodded, then realized he couldn’t see her. “Yes. I’m not so restless anymore. I think I’ll be able to sleep tonight.”
    â€œGood. I like being your friend, Susan.”
    Her heart nearly squeezed its way through the phone. “That means a lot to me, Ethan.”
    â€œThen close your eyes, and I’ll stay here until you fall asleep.”
    â€œOkay,” she whispered, knowing it was the perfect way to spend the night with him, to rest in his phantom arms.
    Â 
    Ryan remained as still as a corpse, afraid he would disturb Lily. He’d been awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, at make-believe patterns on the walls.
    He turned to look at his wife. Like a bat in an