Free ATwistedMagick by Shara Lanel Page B

parts. She kept her eyes to the floor and backed up when he walked out. Then she dashed into the bathroom and immediately turned on the faucet.
    Gabe combed his fingers through his damp hair, before dropping the towel and getting dressed. It was still only three a.m., but he could sneak out and let her keep the hotel room until she had to go to the shop in the actual morning. The idea was so tempting that he found himself walking to the door and gripping the handle.
    He took a deep breath. He was not a chicken shit. He could face Shylah, had to in fact, since he’d started this mess. He’d asked her to dinner, he’d refilled her wine and he’d brought her here instead of taking her home. And, most importantly, he’d kissed her. He crossed back to the desk chair and sat down, schooling his face to a nonchalant expression. No reason to cause her to panic the minute she walked out of the bathroom.
    * * * * *
    Shylah panicked as she examined her body in the shower. She had small aches, but they were good aches. Her head, which had felt great during sex, was pounding again. Her skin had light abrasion marks from his rough five o’clock shadow and her lips felt plump or something. She couldn’t get a handle on the right word. All this was good. It meant she’d been well loved. Except she hadn’t been. She’d been well-fucked but not well loved. With sudden suspicion, she wondered whether he’d planned this to catch her off guard, gain her trust.
    Well, she trusted him even less at this point.
    But the panic point had nothing to do with Gabe’s motives, and everything to do with what her rational brain had been trying to tell her before she’d lost all cognition. You’re forgetting…
    Holy shit, what they’d forgotten!
    She hung her head and wondered how long she could hide out in the shower before he came in looking for her. Maybe he’d left already. That would be convenient.
    She emerged from the bathroom several minutes later, completely covered by yesterday’s clothes and a towel wrapped around her hair. He was still here. Damn. He had his clothes back on too, but he still looked hot. Her face flushed as memories of the past few hours came back to her. Embarrassment warred with instant arousal. God, she’d take him again if he offered the least encouragement, but he was sitting stiff in the desk chair with a scowl on his face. So he wasn’t happy. Good, there wouldn’t be a repeat. He’d even made the bed. Neither of them had slept over an hour, judging by the time. She sat down on the edge of the bed and continued to dry her hair. It took forever to blow dry her hair, so she didn’t start until her hair had dried to damp.
    Was he going to mention the condom issue? Had he thought of it?
    “Shylah,” he said in a tone that said he was going to say more, but then he clamped his mouth shut. He closed his eyes, opened them to focus on her, and tried again. “Shylah, this is all my fault.”
    “You didn’t force me.”
    “No, not that. I invited you to dinner, brought you here and seduced you.”
    “Seduced me? It felt pretty mutual.”
    She saw a flash of humor in his eyes and a slight upturn of one corner of his mouth, but that immediately leveled out again. “It’s that we…we didn’t use a condom. You’re on the pill, right?”
    He looked so hopeful, even though not using a condom opened them both up to venereal diseases. Funny, that didn’t bother her anywhere nearly as much as pregnancy did. She wanted her own family, but not with a PI from California who thought she was evil enough to kill two children. She was so mad at herself. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She put the towel down and shook her head.
    “You’re not on the pill?” Another headshake. “Why the hell not?”
    It was embarrassing to tell him, but embarrassment seemed unimportant on top of her other worries. “I haven’t been in a relationship in a long time, so why waste the money and keep feeding something artificial into my