Perfect Fling by Carly Phillips Page A

needed to do was act cool and remind herself his caring was about his protective streak and not anything he felt for her beyond a sense of duty. Yeah, that hurt. But it was the truth and she’d do well to remember it.
    On that thought, she lifted the covers and rolled away from Cole in an attempt to get out of bed before he woke. Unfortunately her alarm went off before she made her escape.
    “Running again?” he asked in a sleep-roughened voice.
    She shut the alarm on her cell phone. “Nope. Just getting up for the day. It’s not like I can disappear on you this time.”
    “Are you okay?” he asked, surprising her.
    “I’m fine. Why?”
    “You haven’t looked at me, for one thing.”
    Forcing herself to turn over, she met his gaze. And wished she hadn’t. First thing in the morning, Cole Sanders was even more sexy than ever. His hair was mussed and stood at odd angles, razor stubble darkened his jaw, his brooding eyes assessed her through heavy lids, and all she could think about was climbing on top of his broad chest and kissing him senseless.
    “Pregnancy hormones,” she muttered.
    “What?”
    “Nothing. I’m hungry. I need to shower and get something to eat before work.”
    “Okay, well, I’ll jump in the shower real quick and make us something while you get ready.” Throwing the comforter off, he rose, perfect in his nudity.
    From his muscled arms and defined abs to the tattoos on his biceps and upper back, he was simply amazing. If she allowed her gaze to travel lower, there were even more things she could ogle, but she refrained. Because she, on the other hand, had pulled the blanket back over her and now held on for dear life.
    She wasn’t one to flaunt her body on a good day. At four months pregnant, she wasn’t feeling particularly comfortable with herself, the curves she was developing, or the lack of a waist that had suddenly occurred. Last night she’d been too caught up in the moment to be shy, but that wasn’t the case this morning.
    “Go ahead.” She waved him away, indicating he should use the shower first. And quickly.
    His gaze dropped to her fingers, clutching at the blanket. “Erin?”
    “Hmm?” she asked too brightly.
    “You’re gorgeous, and if you didn’t need to get to work, I’d strip that cover off you and pick up where we left off last night.”
    A small moan escaped her lips, but he was gone without indicating he’d heard. A few minutes later, she heard the creaking of pipes and the sound of water running in the shower. She was dying to join him.
    With a groan, she snuggled deeper into the blanket. How she was going to keep her distance was beyond her, but she had no choice if she wanted to survive their enforced closeness with her emotions intact.
    • • •
    Cole was making breakfast in the kitchen. He removed the bread from the fridge and was opening the bag when Erin’s scream from the other room startled him.
    He dropped the bread and bolted for the front door. “What happened?”
    “I went to get the newspaper from the porch. I opened the door and . . . look!” She pointed beyond the entry, her hand shaking, her face pale.
    He shifted her behind him and pulled his gun from his back holster before cautiously checking outside. A dead animal that looked more like roadkill than a pet lay on her porch in an open shoe box.
    A gagging noise sounded behind him. He turned to see Erin run for the bathroom in the hall.
    “Shit,” he muttered. Not wanting to taint evidence, he left the box outside and headed to help her first.
    He stood in the doorway of the half-bath downstairs while she dry-heaved into the toilet. He cringed, something too near the region of his heart twisting at her pain and discomfort.
    Without asking, he stepped inside and wet a damp towel, then knelt beside her.
    “Go away,” she moaned into the toilet.
    Cole ignored her, merely lifting her hair so he could lay the cold towel over the back of her neck.
    “Feels good,” she said