not why I’m here.”
“Why are you here?” I slipped both hands into the waistband of his jeans, causing him to gasp.
He grabbed my hands before I could move them lower.
“Because last night you were acting crazy.”
Dumping me into a vat of ice water would have been less effective in cooling my ardor. I’d done my best to control myself when it had been inferred that I was crazy a number of times in the past few days, but hearing it from him of all people pushed me over the edge.
“Crazy?” I shrieked, shoving at his chest, sending him stumbling back against the door.
Bewildered, he stared at me, wide-eyed.
“Get out!” I shouted.
“Shhh,” he begged, holding up his hands in supplication. “Does this have something to do with your mom? Cuz I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant you seemed upset.”
“Get. Out,” I ordered through clenched teeth.
Turning, he hurried from the room. I waited until he’d closed the door before allowing the tears burning my eyes to fall.
I quickly dashed them off my cheeks, determined not to fall apart just because he’d called me crazy. Just because I’d banged on his door and talked to my cat didn’t give him the right to call me a nutjob.
“Mags?” came through the door.
I didn’t answer him. Forcing myself to take a couple of deep breaths, I shrugged into the robe that hung on the hook inside the door. It was one of Loretta’s discards, which meant it was satin and lace and sexy.
Squaring my shoulders, I thought, Fine. Let him see what he’s missing.
Chin held high, I threw open the door and leveled what I hoped was an icy glare at the redhead who was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, waiting for my appearance.
“I’m really, really sorry. Maybe ‘crazy’ wasn’t the best choice of words,” he said carefully.
“Ya think?” Because he stood only a foot away, I had to tilt my head back to continue subjecting him to my death glare.
Patrick blinked rapidly. “Well, no, but… I was worried about you so I came to check on you. Isn’t that more important than a momentary slip of the tongue?”
“Which is it?” I pushed. “A slip of the tongue or I’m a crazy woman?”
For a split-second, something dark and dangerous flickered in his eyes. My breath caught in my throat and I completely forgot what we’d just been arguing about. A frisson of fear and excitement skittered down my spine as he lunged toward me.
He used one arm to haul me against him and his other hand to cup my chin.
Nothing he did caused me the slightest pain, but I still shivered at his leashed power.
Bending his head, his stubble scraping across my cheek, he whispered in my ear, “What it is, Mags, is that you make me crazy.” Nipping my earlobe for emphasis, he slowly dragged his lips along my jawline.
I tried to turn my head, to meet his mouth with mine, but his grip on my chin kept me immobile.
Breaking the contact, he lifted his head so that his lips hovered above mine. He stared at me with a scorching intensity that made my throat go dry.
“You, Maggie Lee, are the most dangerous person in my life,” he muttered. “I should stay as far away from you as humanly possible and yet here I am again, like a moth to a flame. How do you do that?”
For a split second, I tried to figure out an answer to that question, then all thoughts left my brain as he lowered his mouth to mine.
“For Pete’s sake,” God groused from his enclosure. “You kiss. In a second, one of you will realize it’s a bad idea and pull away. Repeat ad nauseum.”
I tried to ignore the lizard, but part of my brain acknowledged he was speaking a painful truth even as my body melted into Patrick’s as he kissed me.
“Your dysfunctional pattern would be sickening if it wasn’t so pathetic,” God continued.
Ripping my mouth away from the sexy redhead’s, I whisper-shouted, “If you don’t shut up you’re not getting any crickets.”
Every muscle in Patrick’s body
“Why are you here?” I slipped both hands into the waistband of his jeans, causing him to gasp.
He grabbed my hands before I could move them lower.
“Because last night you were acting crazy.”
Dumping me into a vat of ice water would have been less effective in cooling my ardor. I’d done my best to control myself when it had been inferred that I was crazy a number of times in the past few days, but hearing it from him of all people pushed me over the edge.
“Crazy?” I shrieked, shoving at his chest, sending him stumbling back against the door.
Bewildered, he stared at me, wide-eyed.
“Get out!” I shouted.
“Shhh,” he begged, holding up his hands in supplication. “Does this have something to do with your mom? Cuz I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant you seemed upset.”
“Get. Out,” I ordered through clenched teeth.
Turning, he hurried from the room. I waited until he’d closed the door before allowing the tears burning my eyes to fall.
I quickly dashed them off my cheeks, determined not to fall apart just because he’d called me crazy. Just because I’d banged on his door and talked to my cat didn’t give him the right to call me a nutjob.
“Mags?” came through the door.
I didn’t answer him. Forcing myself to take a couple of deep breaths, I shrugged into the robe that hung on the hook inside the door. It was one of Loretta’s discards, which meant it was satin and lace and sexy.
Squaring my shoulders, I thought, Fine. Let him see what he’s missing.
Chin held high, I threw open the door and leveled what I hoped was an icy glare at the redhead who was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, waiting for my appearance.
“I’m really, really sorry. Maybe ‘crazy’ wasn’t the best choice of words,” he said carefully.
“Ya think?” Because he stood only a foot away, I had to tilt my head back to continue subjecting him to my death glare.
Patrick blinked rapidly. “Well, no, but… I was worried about you so I came to check on you. Isn’t that more important than a momentary slip of the tongue?”
“Which is it?” I pushed. “A slip of the tongue or I’m a crazy woman?”
For a split-second, something dark and dangerous flickered in his eyes. My breath caught in my throat and I completely forgot what we’d just been arguing about. A frisson of fear and excitement skittered down my spine as he lunged toward me.
He used one arm to haul me against him and his other hand to cup my chin.
Nothing he did caused me the slightest pain, but I still shivered at his leashed power.
Bending his head, his stubble scraping across my cheek, he whispered in my ear, “What it is, Mags, is that you make me crazy.” Nipping my earlobe for emphasis, he slowly dragged his lips along my jawline.
I tried to turn my head, to meet his mouth with mine, but his grip on my chin kept me immobile.
Breaking the contact, he lifted his head so that his lips hovered above mine. He stared at me with a scorching intensity that made my throat go dry.
“You, Maggie Lee, are the most dangerous person in my life,” he muttered. “I should stay as far away from you as humanly possible and yet here I am again, like a moth to a flame. How do you do that?”
For a split second, I tried to figure out an answer to that question, then all thoughts left my brain as he lowered his mouth to mine.
“For Pete’s sake,” God groused from his enclosure. “You kiss. In a second, one of you will realize it’s a bad idea and pull away. Repeat ad nauseum.”
I tried to ignore the lizard, but part of my brain acknowledged he was speaking a painful truth even as my body melted into Patrick’s as he kissed me.
“Your dysfunctional pattern would be sickening if it wasn’t so pathetic,” God continued.
Ripping my mouth away from the sexy redhead’s, I whisper-shouted, “If you don’t shut up you’re not getting any crickets.”
Every muscle in Patrick’s body
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