Sizzling by Susan Mallery Page A

hadn't seen her that way? Oh,
yeah, there was a conversation he was dying to have.

He told
himself to forget about her and the other nurses and her possible
hurt feelings, except he couldn't. Bad enough the world thought he
was a jerk— he didn't want Lori thinking that, too. Even though
it was probably too late to change her mind.

He found her in
the kitchen. She was rinsing off Gloria's breakfast dishes and
putting them into the dishwasher. She narrowed her gaze when he
walked into the room but didn't say anything.

She'd changed
her clothes, he thought, noticing she'd replaced her normal scrubs
with jeans and a sweater. The more fitted style suited her, drawing
his attention to curves he previously hadn't noticed.
Interesting.

She straightened and pushed up her glasses. "What
do you want?" she demanded.

"To meet your
sister."

The words weren't the ones he'd planned and he
had no idea where they'd come from.

"No," Lori said
flatly.

"Why not? She's dying. You said she's dying.
Maybe she'd like some company. I'm good company."

"You're
not and the answer is still no. Madeline isn't some freak show you
can visit to fill your day. Go annoy someone else."

Her
attitude was really starting to piss him off. What had he ever done
to her? "I'm trying to help," he told her. "I bring
comfort to the dying."

"Obviously not
sexually."

The unexpected snipe cut right through his
who-gives-a-shit veneer. He crossed the two steps separating them,
grabbed her arm and fought the need to shake some sense into
her.

"It wasn't my fault," he yelled. "It was
my first year away from the game. My team was in the playoffs. They'd
just lost. I was drunk. So what if I was more interested in drowning
my pain than showing that woman a good time? I had an off night.
Everybody else gets an off night, but not me, right? I'm good in bed,
dammit. Better than good. I've been clawed and made women scream on a
regular basis."

Her steady gaze never wavered. "I'm
yawning," she said in a low voice. "That's how interested I
am in this conversation."

He swore, jerked her close and
kissed her.

He hadn't planned to. He was just so pissed off
and there weren't that many acceptable ways for a guy to let off a
little steam.

So he pressed his mouth to hers and let all his
frustration and anger and okay, maybe hurt, pour into the kiss.

He
buried his free hand in her hair and was surprised to find the curly
waves were kind of nice to touch. He moved a little closer and tilted
his head slightly, getting a better angle on kissing Lori because it
was starting to feel good. Damn good. Who knew?

Lori found
herself just standing there, not sure what to do with her arms, her
hands or even her body. She felt awkward and stupid, but the one
thing she knew for sure was that she never ever wanted the kiss to
end.

His mouth demanded things from her and she found herself
wanting to give them. But even as he took and insisted, his lips
weren't too hard. There was just the right amount of pressure and
heat and promise to make her want to lean into him and beg.

She
liked the way he smelled and how he was exactly the right height. She
liked the feel of his hand in her hair and the first teasing, erotic
brush of the tip of his tongue against her lower lip.

Had she
had access to her brain and any voluntary functions, she would have
pulled back. It was the sensible thing to do. It was the only thing
that made sense. But she didn't, so it wasn't her fault when she put
one hand on his shoulder and parted her mouth.

He nipped her
lower lip. The gentle bite shocked her. She gasped, he chuckled, then
swept inside, claiming her with a passionate dance that took her
breath away.

He kissed like a man who loved women. He kissed
like a man who understood that sometimes kissing wasn't just a
stepping stone on the path to something better. That it could be—
if done correctly— a destination.

He kissed like he
meant it and made her feel she'd been waiting her whole life for