A Question of Trust (15 page)

BOOK: A Question of Trust
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When she hung up, she heard Daniel ask, “Who was that?”

“Your sister.” She turned around. “She wanted—” Her tongue hit the floor, making intelligible speech pretty much impossible.

He stood before her wearing nothing but a white towel. It was wrapped low around his hips, the color accentuating his tanned skin. Below it, beads of water clung to the golden hairs curling on his long, muscular legs.

Water ran in tiny rivulets from his shoulders down his chest. Mesmerized, she watched a drop trickle over his nipple and slide down his hard, flat stomach only to disappear into the towel. Warm heat hummed in her belly and she repressed the urge to quench her sudden thirst by catching one of those droplets with her tongue.

God. He looked good enough to eat.

Desire shot through her. She wanted him. Wanted to run her hands over his wet torso, rip the towel from around his waist and devour him in all his naked, very male glory.

“Like what you see?”

“Huh?” She jerked her gaze up to meet Daniel’s and saw amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Just asking if you like what you see.”

Shit!
She was ogling him and he had busted her.

What was she supposed to say? She
loved
what she saw? So much so she was almost as wet as he was? Not likely.

“I was looking to see if your, um…bruises were more visible than earlier.” To reinforce her point, she lowered her gaze to his knees. The only problem was that her downward gaze snagged on the towel. Was it just her imagination or was there a bulge there? Did he have an erection, or was it just the way his towel hung against his hips?

“Are they?”

It certainly looked like an erection to her. “Are they what?”

“More visible now?”

“Huh?” It was most definitely an erection. A substantial one at that, given the way the towel just moved.

“The bruises, Morgan, can you see them now?”

“What bruises?” He was hard. That meant he was aroused. And if she was aroused and he was aroused, then—

She heard him chuckle. “A little distracted, are we?”

Bruises.
Damn, they were talking about his bruises.
Focus.
She looked him dead in the eye and lied. “Not distracted, no. Just trying to make a point. I can’t see any bruising.” Well, at least that part was true. “Not on your shoulder or your knee. I’m sorry.” She shrugged. “They’re just not there.”

He said nothing, raising his eyebrow instead. Her gaze hadn’t taken in either knee or shoulder. The lift of his brow told her he knew exactly what she was thinking. But how could he not? Her tongue was still plastered to the floor. “You gonna stand there dripping all over the carpet? Or are you going to get dressed?”

“That depends.” He didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get his clothes on.

“On what?”

“On you.”

“On me?”

“Yes. On you. Do you want me to get dressed?”

Hell, no!
“What kind of a question is that?”

“A logical one. I saw you watching me. You just don’t seem particularly eager for me to put my clothes on. In fact—” again with the infuriating dimple, “—you seem to have developed a certain affinity for my towel.”

It wasn’t the damn towel she had an affinity for. If he could just
lose
the towel, she’d be happy.

No. She wouldn’t.

“Yeah, Dan. What can I say? I’ve fallen for the towel. I’ve always been a sucker for a good towel.”

Daniel looked surprised. “You have? Well, I tell you what. I’m a nice guy and I’d hate to get in the way of you getting what you want. So here’s what I’m going to do. I’m gonna go get dressed and I’m gonna leave you with my towel so the two of you can have a few minutes alone to get acquainted.”

Ever so casually, he pulled the terry cloth from around his waist and handed it to a dumbfounded Amy.

“It’s a little wet,” he said apologetically and shrugged. “Sorry.”

Amy was sure she’d have responded appropriately if she hadn’t been so busy confirming her erection suspicions. The man had the granddaddy of all hard-ons.

“Wet?” she muttered. Forget the towel. The wettest thing in the room right now was her. She wished she had a pair of super-industrial-strength panties, because the longer she stared at Daniel’s cock, the wetter she got.

Well, don’t stare, then.

Easy for you to say.

Lift your eyes upwards, to his face.

I swear, I’m trying. It’s just not working.

Daniel saved her from further self-debate. “I’ll be back in five, Morgan. Enjoy getting to know the towel.”

He turned around and sauntered off to his room, leaving the towel dangling uselessly in her hand.

 

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BOOK: A Question of Trust
4.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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