Wolfe Wanting by Joan Hohl Page A

bear thinking about.
    Royce moved to go to her. Then he caught himself up short, pivoted and strode to the door.
    Dammit, Wolfe, Royce railed at himself. Stop reacting like a libido-driven idiot. The absolute last thing Megan needs right now is more emotional trauma.
    Get out. Go home. And grow up.
    “Thanks again for breakfast,” he said, hating the dry, strangled sound of his own voice.
    “Thanks again for staying,” Megan replied, sounding almost as strained and affected as he felt.
    His fingers fumbled with the dead bolt and the safety lock. Damn. He hadn't fumbled with anything, or anyone, since his fourteenth summer. “Glad to be of service,” he muttered, sighing in relief when, at last, the door swung open.
    “Will you...” Megan's voice faded on an uncertain note, forcing him to glance around at her.
    The shadows of confusion and doubt in her blue eyes tore a hole in his gut. Royce wanted nothing so much at that moment as to pull Megan into his arms, cradle her protectively against his hard body.
    Make love to her.
    Run for it, Wolfe, before you run to her.
    “What?” he asked, sidling through the doorway.
    “It's mild!”
    “Huh?” Royce blinked.
    “The day. The weather.” Megan gave him a helpless look. “It's mild outside.”
    “Oh.” Now who was confused? Royce thought, knowing the answer. Collecting himself, he stepped outside to test the air temperature. Damned if it wasn't mild, springlike. “Yeah,” he said. “Feels good.”
    “Too good to stay indoors.”
    Royce frowned. “You're planning on going somewhere?”
    “I need to do some grocery shopping,” Megan said, reminding him of her empty refrigerator. “Why?”
    “You have no wheels,” Royce answered, in turn reminding her of her wrecked car. “You're welcome to use my car,” he offered. “You could drop me—”
    Megan silenced him with a quick shake of her head. The sunlight caught and tangled in her hair again, seemingly turning it into a fiery mass framing her face.
    Royce curled his fingers into his palm to keep from reaching out to entangle them in the flamelike strands.
    “...in the garage,” she was saying.
    “I beg your pardon,” he admitted apologetically, “but I missed the first part of what you said.” Idiot!
    “I said—” Megan spoke distinctly “—thank you, but that's not necessary. My father's car is in the garage. He asked me to drive it every so often, anyway.”
    “Yeah, it's not good to let it sit.” Royce frowned. “What had you started to say before?”
    She mirrored his frown. “Before when?”
    “You said 'will you...' and then stopped.” He lifted one eyebrow. “Will I what?”
    Megan looked uncomfortable, embarrassed. She flicked a glance at him, then immediately glanced away again. She wet her lips, cleared her throat, then shook her head. “It was nothing. I, uh, never mind....”
    “C'mon, Meg,” Royce said on a long sigh. “It must have been something. And you should know by now that you can ask me anything. What is it?”
    Still she hesitated, her soft mouth twisting in a self-mocking grimace. “I, uh, can I?”
    “Can you what?” he asked, thoroughly confused.
    “Ask you anything.”
    “Didn't I just say you could?” Royce was experiencing a distinct sensation of going around in circles. “Ask.”
    Megan drew a breath, and began slowly, “I was just wondering...well...” She paused, the went on in a rush. “I was wondering if you were thinking of stopping by tonight, you know, when you're done working?”
    Royce felt hard-pressed to keep from laughing. “You had to work up your courage to ask that?” he said, losing the battle to hold back a teasing smile.
    “Well...” She shrugged. “I have no right to ask you to look out for me in your free time.”
    “But you didn't ask,” he pointed out. “Not initially. It was my idea to stop by last night, remember?”
    “Yes, but—”
    “So,” he said, blithely interrupting her, “I'll stop by. I was planning