Free Caught by Surprise by Deborah Smith

whispered. “You look sexy as hell.”
    When he stroked the material down her throat, she closed her eyes and tilted her head back. Brig’s thumb caressed the pulse point under her chin. His voice came to her dimly, through the roaring In her ears. “You’re too hot, love,” he whispered. “I wouldn’t want you to faint.”
    She opened her eyes and looked at him, feeling groggy. Her pulse had been fine until a moment ago. Now It raced so hard that she could barely think. Millie reached out and placed her fingertips under his chin. His skin was slick and burning, the blood pounding beneath her touch. “Seems to me,” she said huskily, “that we’re both too hot.”
    “There are ways to take care of that.”
    She nodded, picturing the way he had In mind, seeing them both naked on the pink satin sheets of her bed. “Iced tea,” she said vaguely. She drew her hand away from his throat. His fingers were still curved againsther neck, their effect so powerful that he seemed to be touching her all over.
    One corner of his mouth lifted in a rueful smile. “Iced tea’ll have to do for now.”
    He let his hand trail along her neck to the collar of her shirt. Millie waited breathlessly, only half-wanting to protest, as his fingertips continued downward. He touched the curve of her breast, feathered his hand over it, then brushed his thumb across the imprint that couldn’t be hidden by her bra or shirt. Millie nearly groaned as her nipple tightened instantly, betraying the loss of her last shred of willpower. The breath cascaded out of her lungs in a low, shuddering, “Stop.”
    His eyes challenged her while his thumb circled and tantalized. “If you really don’t like it, all you have to do is move away,” he instructed hoarsely.
    Millie made a strangled, angry sound at his confident intuition. She’d show him. She pushed his hand away and took two large steps straight back—right onto the thin sheet of plastic covering the hole in her roof. They both realized her mistake. The plastic ripped like a piece of paper.
    “Melly, grab my hand!” Brig yelled.
    He lunged for her, but only succeeded in grabbing a wisp of her hair as she plummeted through the roof. Brig’s blood turned to ice water as he watched her hit the corner of her bed and slide to the floor in a limp heap.
    He grasped the sides of the hole, slipped both feet into it, and lowered himself into her bedroom. He let go and dropped feetfirst onto her bed. With a cracking sound, the slats under the mattress and box spring gave way, dumping a corner onto the floor. Caught off balance, Brig landed on his rump and slid down beside Millie.
    She lifted her head weakly and looked at him. “You make a heckuva entrance,” she managed to say before she closed her eyes and moaned. “SuperAussie to the rescue.”
    He grasped her head between his hands and scrutinized her white face. “Where does it hurt?”
    “Here.” She raised a hand and touched the side of her head.
    “You musta hit a rafter, love.”
    “No, it’s where you pulled my hair out.”
    He drew one hand back and they both looked at the strands of blond hair caught between his fingers. “Caveman,” she teased, her eyes squinted nearly shut. Millie shifted slightly, then winced. Immediately he slipped an arm around her and turned her so that she could lean against his chest. Millie let her head drape back on his bare shoulder.
    “What is it?” he asked tensely. “What hurts, you tough Sheila? Speak up.”
    “I’m little, that’s all. I got the breath knocked out of me, and I don’t have that much breath to lose. Just give me a minute to recuperate.” Brig stroked her hair and kissed her forehead as she inhaled shakily. “Are
you
all right?” she asked.
    “Sure. Landed on my butt. That’s the toughest part of me.”
    She chuckled. “You should have landed on your hard head.”
    His voice was taut with self-rebuke. “It was my fault that you fell through the roof.”
    “Sssh. You