to, anyway.” His teasing smile grew up, into a grin. “Were you thinking about offering me a reward for dedication to duty above and beyond the call?”
“Reward?” Megan frowned. “What sort of reward?”
On the spot, Royce decided that Megan was the only woman he knew who looked appealing when she frowned. But then, he decided, she looked appealing most of the time. Too appealing for his peace of mind. A response to her appeal stirred, in his emotions, in his body.
That was when he decided he had better stick to the discussion at hand. “Well, since I usually have a snack when I get home from work,” he said, “a cup of decaf coffee or hot chocolate and a couple of sandwiches would be nice.”
“A couple of sandwiches!” Megan exclaimed on a choking bout of the giggles. “At that time of night?”
“Hey, honey, give me a break, will ya?” Royce groused, in patently false aggrievement, deciding her giggle was appealing, as well, and that he had really better get going...and soon. “Look at me.” He swept his arm down to indicate his tall form. “I'm a big man. How far do you think one small sandwich will go in filling me up?”
“I see your point,” Megan conceded solemnly, her gleaming blue eyes belying her somber tone. “I will be happy to prepare a snack for you.”
“You've got yourself a deal,” Royce said. “I'll—” He broke off, just then noticing the shivering tremor in her body. He cursed himself for not noticing sooner. “You're cold. It's not quite spring yet. Go inside. I'm going home to bed.” He started for his car, but called back to her over his shoulder, “By the way, I like most kinds of luncheon meats, but most especially baked ham with cheese.”
“You'll have it, Sergeant,” Megan promised. “Whatever turns you on.”
Laughing, Royce gave her a quick wave, slid behind the wheel, fired the engine and backed out of the driveway. His laughter ceased abruptly as soon as he was out of her sight.
You'll have it, Sergeant. Megan's promise replayed in his mind. Whatever turns you on.
Not hardly, Royce thought, reflexively tightening his grip on the wheel. He liked ham-and-cheese sandwiches, but they did not turn him on.
Megan turned him on.
His libido was at full throttle and humming along at way above the legal speed limit.
Royce wanted Megan so bad, so very much, it shocked him. The very intensity of his desire for her was startling, for he had never before in his life felt anything quite like it, not even during his supposedly most potent, late-teen years.
Royce made it home safely to his bachelor apartment, driving by rote, with automatic expertise. He had had no doubts about making it home safely.
But being able to get to sleep while his imagination created explicit fantasies around Megan—that he did have serious doubts about.
His doubts proved well-founded.
Royce tossed and turned, grunted and groaned, and didn't sleep worth a damn.
But he did enjoy the fantasies.
* * *
Megan had a wonderful time grocery shopping. In no hurry, she wandered up and down the aisles, perusing the items on the shelves, making both careful and impulsive selections.
Which just went to highlight how long it had been since she had shopped for food for anybody other than herself, she mused, frowning indecisively at the price on a packaged thick-cut Delmonico steak.
Deciding Royce deserved the expense, she tossed the package into her already piled-high basket and pushed it farther along the meat section.
Four tiny lamb chops followed the steak into the cart; they were for her. Remembering that Royce liked ham, she added a breakfast ham steak to the growing mound.
Megan didn't so much as blink at the cost of feeding Royce, but merely smiled benignly at the pleasant clerk as she handed over the stack of bills.
Considering all he had done, and planned to continue doing, in addition to his caring, gentle concern for her, Megan figured the least she could do was provide not just
“Reward?” Megan frowned. “What sort of reward?”
On the spot, Royce decided that Megan was the only woman he knew who looked appealing when she frowned. But then, he decided, she looked appealing most of the time. Too appealing for his peace of mind. A response to her appeal stirred, in his emotions, in his body.
That was when he decided he had better stick to the discussion at hand. “Well, since I usually have a snack when I get home from work,” he said, “a cup of decaf coffee or hot chocolate and a couple of sandwiches would be nice.”
“A couple of sandwiches!” Megan exclaimed on a choking bout of the giggles. “At that time of night?”
“Hey, honey, give me a break, will ya?” Royce groused, in patently false aggrievement, deciding her giggle was appealing, as well, and that he had really better get going...and soon. “Look at me.” He swept his arm down to indicate his tall form. “I'm a big man. How far do you think one small sandwich will go in filling me up?”
“I see your point,” Megan conceded solemnly, her gleaming blue eyes belying her somber tone. “I will be happy to prepare a snack for you.”
“You've got yourself a deal,” Royce said. “I'll—” He broke off, just then noticing the shivering tremor in her body. He cursed himself for not noticing sooner. “You're cold. It's not quite spring yet. Go inside. I'm going home to bed.” He started for his car, but called back to her over his shoulder, “By the way, I like most kinds of luncheon meats, but most especially baked ham with cheese.”
“You'll have it, Sergeant,” Megan promised. “Whatever turns you on.”
Laughing, Royce gave her a quick wave, slid behind the wheel, fired the engine and backed out of the driveway. His laughter ceased abruptly as soon as he was out of her sight.
You'll have it, Sergeant. Megan's promise replayed in his mind. Whatever turns you on.
Not hardly, Royce thought, reflexively tightening his grip on the wheel. He liked ham-and-cheese sandwiches, but they did not turn him on.
Megan turned him on.
His libido was at full throttle and humming along at way above the legal speed limit.
Royce wanted Megan so bad, so very much, it shocked him. The very intensity of his desire for her was startling, for he had never before in his life felt anything quite like it, not even during his supposedly most potent, late-teen years.
Royce made it home safely to his bachelor apartment, driving by rote, with automatic expertise. He had had no doubts about making it home safely.
But being able to get to sleep while his imagination created explicit fantasies around Megan—that he did have serious doubts about.
His doubts proved well-founded.
Royce tossed and turned, grunted and groaned, and didn't sleep worth a damn.
But he did enjoy the fantasies.
* * *
Megan had a wonderful time grocery shopping. In no hurry, she wandered up and down the aisles, perusing the items on the shelves, making both careful and impulsive selections.
Which just went to highlight how long it had been since she had shopped for food for anybody other than herself, she mused, frowning indecisively at the price on a packaged thick-cut Delmonico steak.
Deciding Royce deserved the expense, she tossed the package into her already piled-high basket and pushed it farther along the meat section.
Four tiny lamb chops followed the steak into the cart; they were for her. Remembering that Royce liked ham, she added a breakfast ham steak to the growing mound.
Megan didn't so much as blink at the cost of feeding Royce, but merely smiled benignly at the pleasant clerk as she handed over the stack of bills.
Considering all he had done, and planned to continue doing, in addition to his caring, gentle concern for her, Megan figured the least she could do was provide not just
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