Michael's Discovery by Sherryl Woods Page B

him, but it wasn’t to her. “Aren’t you worried about that?”
    “Not particularly.”
    “Why?” she asked, bewildered by the fact that he wasn’t the least bit concerned.
    “Because my mother is basically harmless. And if she does start getting any crazy ideas, I’ll set her straight. It’s not a big deal, Kelly. I can handle my mother.”
    “Yeah, I could see that on Saturday,” she said dryly.
    He laughed. “Okay, I can usually handle my mother.” His expression sobered. “Come on, Kelly, tell the truth. You don’t really have a date, do you?”
    Continuing to lie was obviously pointless. Apparently she wasn’t all that good at it. “No,” she finally admitted with a sigh.
    “Then come.”
    “Why is my being there so important to you?”
    Now it was his turn to look vaguely bewildered. “It just is,” he said finally. “I feel more…” He paused, searching for a word. “I feel more normal when you’re around.”
    The explanation left her more confused than ever. “Normal how?”
    He looked away as if he were almost embarrassed to make the admission. “You don’t get that expression in your eyes when you look at me that everyone else gets,” he said.
    Kelly was beginning to get the picture. “No pity?”
    “Exactly. And you don’t let me off the hook when I’m behaving badly. Everyone else does, as if I deserve a pass because I’m in this damned chair. That’s the last thing I need. I need to be held accountable for my actions. I need you right now.”
    Kelly swallowed hard against the tide of emotion rising in her throat. Michael’s admission that heneeded her—that he needed anyone—took her breath away. It was a huge breakthrough for a man who’d probably gone through his whole life trying to convince himself that he didn’t need anyone. How could she possibly turn him down after that?
    “What time?” she asked, resigned.
    As he realized what she was saying, a smile spread slowly across his face. “Pick me up at seven?”
    Kelly almost agreed, then recalled that he’d told his family to meet at the pub at six-thirty. “Isn’t that a little late?”
    He gave her a rueful look at having been caught. “I was hoping they’d get all the introductions out of the way before I got there.”
    She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’ll pick you up at six-fifteen, and no dillydallying. Be outside and ready to go. I’ll remind you of that when I’m here on Thursday.”
    Michael laughed, clearly in a much better frame of mind now that she’d caved in to his request. “Yes, ma’am.”
    Impulsively she went back and touched his cheek. The faint stubble was rough against her palm. His heat and masculinity drew her as no other man’s ever had. It was getting harder and harder to go on with the charade that she was immune to him. “It’s going to be okay, you know.”
    He placed his hand over hers and held it in place. “With you there, something tells me it will be.”
     
    Michael still wasn’t used to Kelly having her hands all over him. It didn’t seem to faze her, so he knew he shouldn’t let it bother him, but it did. In fact, it was driving him crazy. As if worrying about Fridaynight weren’t bad enough, today he couldn’t seem to keep his thoughts from straying to what it would be like if Kelly’s touches were a little—okay, a lot —less impersonal.
    “How do you do it?” he asked finally when it felt as if he might explode if she stroked her hands over his thigh one more time. He’d spent the past few weeks trying to hide the fact that he was in a perpetual state of arousal when she was around and it was beginning to get to him.
    “Do what?” she asked, sounding oddly distant.
    “The massage thing.”
    “I took classes.”
    He glanced back over his shoulder and frowned. “Not what I meant, and you know it.”
    She met his gaze, then looked hastily away, her cheeks suddenly rosy.
    “Doesn’t it bother you?” he persisted.
    “It’s my job,”