Carly Phillips - Hot Item

Suddenly she felt a tap on her shoulder. She whirled around and found herself face-to-face with Steve Harris, the man who’d sent her the flowers, chocolate and both bottles from the bar. Bottles she’d turned down. And he didn’t appear too pleased with her.

RILEY WAS PISSED OFF. Sophie had deliberately ignored him, and Mike, hoping to work the jealousy angle in Riley’s favor, had hooked them up with two gorgeous women at the bar. Mike had taken off with one of them in a cab, assuming Riley would do the same, but Riley’s interest wasn’t there. Not one iota.

There’d been no point in going home with her when he wouldn’t have been able to get it up. He didn’t want to be with any woman other than Sophie and to pretend otherwise just to soothe his ego had been a damn stupid move.

They’d had to walk a long way to find an empty taxi, but eventually he’d hailed her a cab and sent her on her way alone. Then he headed back to the sports bar. No sooner had he turned the corner where Quarters was located than he heard the sound of Sophie’s voice.

“What part of no don’t you understand?” she asked, her voice rising.

A guy Riley didn’t recognize stood too close, invading her personal space. Riley hadn’t liked it when he’d seen her with Roper, a baseball player he knew by sight not acquaintance, and he liked this even less. He stepped closer so he could hear the conversation.

“Come on. I saw the interview on TV. You’re single and available. How many guys bother to find out where you buy your favorite chocolates? Quit playing hard-to-get.” The jerk placed a hand on her arm, which Sophie promptly shrugged off.

Riley stiffened.

“Back off,” she warned the guy in an angry tone, one tinged with fear.

“Are you trying to tell me you like it rough?” the guy asked.

“She doesn’t, but apparently you do.” Riley had had enough and he lunged forward, shoving the guy away from Sophie with enough force to make him stumble backward on the sidewalk.

“Hey! Mind your own business,” the guy said, pulling himself together.

“She is my business.”

The other man shot him a disbelieving look. “That’s not what her uncle said on television and it’s not what it looked like in the bar.”

“But it is what I’m telling you and unless you want me to smash your face into that building over there, I suggest you take my word for it.” Riley took another menacing step forward, knowing his adrenaline was pumping and his body primed for a fight.

“Riley, no!” Sophie grabbed his arm and held on tight.

Only her panicked voice kept him from taking a swing.

“Okay, okay.” Sophie’s attacker backed off first. “She’s probably not worth much in the sack anyway,” he said, stepping away.

Riley waited until the man had disappeared around the corner before facing Sophie. “You okay?”

Her cheeks were flushed pink, her blue eyes flashing with a mixture of emotion. “I am too worth something in bed,” she muttered.

Riley burst out laughing, then reached to run his hands up and down her arms. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

She nodded. “I’m fine.” But she swayed slightly, making her words a lie.

“You’re dizzy.”

“Light-headed. There’s a difference. Dizziness is usually vertiginous. You know, vertigo, the sensation of spinning like a top. I’m just light-headed and unsteady on my feet-” She suddenly paused, her eyes narrowing, focused on his face. “What’s with the smile?” she asked.

“You’re just so predictable. If a situation makes you uncomfortable, you reach for the safety of an explanation. That’s all.”

“First I’m not worth much in bed and then I’m predictable?” Her voice rose, trembling with what he guessed was a release of the fear she’d experienced.

He snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. “The first is untrue. I can vouch for how good you are firsthand.”

He inhaled and his body hardened at the familiar, intoxicating scent. He reminded himself she needed reassurance, not another come-on, but he almost lost it when a purr of contentment escaped from her throat.

“Let me get you home,” he said in a voice rough with desire.

Sophie stepped back. “This is where I should tell you I can get home all by myself.” But she was too tired to play games and too scared to actually let him leave. And she wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

She ran her hand through her hair. “My uncle means well, but someday he’s going to be the death of me. Things were awkward after he did the initial interview, but since Dateline picked up on the idea, lunatics have been coming out of the woodwork.”

Riley frowned. “You didn’t say anything about that today.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t think it would get so out of hand. Besides you’re not responsible for me.” Even if she liked it when he took charge.

Sometimes she grew tired of being the one who oversaw everything in order to prevent problems or tragedy. As if she could control such an outcome anyway.

He strode into the street and held his hand in the air, flagging a cab. “Since you’re not planning on telling me to take a hike, let’s get out of here.”

As soon as the cab screeched to a halt, Riley opened the door and waited for her to climb in before sliding in beside her. Sophie gave her address to the driver and settled in for the short ride. Riley didn’t crowd her in the back seat and, as much as she appreciated the sentiment, she craved his arms around her and the security he offered more.

Before she could act on her feelings, they pulled up to her building. “We’re here.” The driver stopped the meter.

Riley pulled cash out of his pocket and slipped it through the Plexiglas divider. “Keep the change.”

A few minutes later, she let Riley into her apartment for the first time. He stalked the place, a man unashamed to study the unfamiliar environment and take it all in.

Her cheeks flamed as he studied her wall of photographs. Each had been meticulously chosen and framed by Sophie herself. They were spaced one inch apart on the wall directly across from her bedroom, so she could make out the outline of each picture at night. Even if she couldn’t see the individual photos, Sophie knew which picture held which place, and why.

She swallowed hard. “Can I get you something to drink?”

He straightened from where he’d focused on a photograph of Sophie, Annabelle and Micki, taken the day they’d come to live with Uncle Yank. Each sister wore a matching frilly dress in order to make a good impression. What the picture didn’t show was the bow on each of their behinds, she remembered, and laughed aloud.

He shot her a curious look at her abrupt outburst. “I’d love a Coke. I’m thirsty.”

“Coke it is,” she said, grateful for something to keep her busy.

“What was so funny?”

She pulled a can from the cabinet and filled two glasses with ice, dividing the soda between them. “I was just wondering what Uncle Yank must have thought when he saw the three of us for the first time.” She handed him his glass.

“He probably calculated the distance to the nearest exit.” Riley grinned.

She smiled. “No kidding. I don’t know how he did it,” she murmured. “I was always so afraid he’d go away and leave us alone the way Mom and Dad had.” They walked to the sofa and she settled in, curling her legs beneath her.

Riley sat beside her, his knee touching hers. He remained silent, obviously giving her time to think and relax. She was grateful for the security he brought her and, for now, their earlier disagreements and all they didn’t have in common faded away.

“You’d think that after all these years, those issues and insecurities would disappear.” She placed her glass on a coaster on her cocktail table.

He shrugged. “I don’t know about that. I mean, if childhood crap didn’t stay with us, shrinks would be out of business.”

She laughed, but knew that deep down he was also referring to his own issues. It helped to know she wasn’t alone.

Sophie yawned suddenly, the events of the night taking their toll, especially now with the danger gone and the rush of adrenaline dissipating fast.

“Come on. Off to bed.” He held out his hand.

In his eyes, she saw warmth and caring. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t view the flicker of desire in their brown depths, a desire that had stirred to life inside her, too.

He must have sensed her hesitation, because he lowered his hand to his lap and curled it into a fist. “I’m not going to attack you in your bedroom, Soph. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

A huge lump formed in her throat. Not because she’d insulted him, but because she couldn’t remember the last time anyone had taken care of her, without her pulling the strings behind the scenes. Before she knew it, an actual tear fell down her cheek. She wiped the moisture away with the back of her hand.

“I didn’t think for one second that you’d take advantage of me,” she whispered.

“Then why the hesitation? And why the tears now?”

She smiled. “I was just surprised, that’s all. I’m usually the one in charge of taking care of everyone else.”

He extended his hand again, this time grasping her hand in his. “Well, it’s time you let yourself go. If you’re exhausted, feel it. If you’re going through a release of tension, then collapse. I’m here to catch you,” he said in a gruff voice and pulled her to her feet.

She stood, but to her surprise, her knees buckled, another rush of light-headedness assaulting her.

He was there in an instant, wrapping his arm around her waist and leading her to the bedroom. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Um…lunch, I think?”

“And you drank on an empty stomach? For a smart woman, that was pretty stupid.” He flicked the light switch and her night-table lamp flickered to life.

“I had some peanuts,” she said, her words not much of a defense.

“If you think you’ll be all right alone in here, why don’t you change into something comfortable and I’ll see what I can scrounge up in your kitchen?”

“I’ll be fine.” But she chuckled at his other comment. “I take it your own kitchen is pretty bare?”

He cocked his head to one side. “I’m a bachelor. What do you think?”

She opened her dresser drawers, pulling out a change of clothes. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised by what you find in mine. The question is what you’re able to do with it.”

He shook his head and laughed. “Oh ye of little faith. My mother loves to cook as a way to release the stresses of living with a man constantly on the run and scheduling events. If I was home, I’d sit and watch her. Sometimes I even helped. I can get by.” He winked at her and headed for the kitchen.

Her knees turned weak, but this time not because she was hungry. At least not for anything except this sexy man who seemed to want nothing more than to tend to her every need.

At least for now. A little voice in her head warned her to tread lightly and carefully, to accept what he offered now but not to read anything into it for the future. Which was fine with her. She knew herself. Knew what would happen if she and Riley even attempted to make this…this…thing between them work long term.

She already knew what would happen. To keep the fear of losing him at bay, she’d compensate with her need to control and end up trying to control him. Like she had with Uncle Yank’s vision problems and then with his broken hip. Like she had with her sisters until they’d argued back. Like she had with prior men in her life who hadn’t meant nearly as much to her as Riley already did.

She’d already stepped into his hang-ups in Florida. Without a doubt, she’d blow it with him again. It was only a matter of time before an independent, free-spirited man like Riley would run again, this time for good.

Better to remember to protect herself first. That settled, she quickly changed into silky drawstring pants and a matching T-shirt, then washed up for the night.

She devoured Riley’s delicious and impressive fluffy omelet loaded with freshly chopped vegetables and cheese, along with toast and a large glass of orange juice before heading off to bed. With Riley by her side.

RILEY WATCHED Sophie sleep. No sooner had she crawled beneath the covers than she passed out cold. Of course there had been the few seconds when she’d moved and wrangled beneath the light yellow bedding. While his imagination had been running wild with thoughts of what she could be doing under there, suddenly her pajama bottoms had come flying out from beneath the covers.

“I can’t sleep with pants on,” she’d explained through a yawn, oblivious to how those words had turned him on.