Completely Smitten

by Susan Mallery

  When they finally make it with a woman, he thought but didn’t say. “Haley, you need to sit down.”

  Her gaze didn’t waiver. “If I was fruit, you’d kiss me.”

  It scared him that her comment almost made sense.

  “In college I didn’t date much,” she continued, swaying slightly so that he was forced to release her shoulders and grab her around the waist to keep her from falling. “There weren’t that many boys around and the ones who were never seemed to notice me.”

  Then they were idiots, he thought. “Haley—”

  She interrupted with a soft sigh. “I like how you say my name.”

  He swore silently. They were standing too close for comfort, at least for him.

  “Maybe I was too good.”

  He stared at her, taking a second to put the statement into a logical framework. “At college?” he asked.

  She nodded vigorously, then blinked several times. “I never did anything wrong.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “I don’t mind doing it now.” She tilted her head. “Something wrong, I mean.”

  “Oh, I got that.” He reached up and pulled her arms from around his neck. “Sit,” he said firmly.

  She sat.

  Her eyes widened when she hit the bed. She was eye level with his waist, which he could handle, and she seemed delighted, which he could not.

  She laughed. “Okay.”

  Okay? Okay, what? Then he decided he didn’t want to know.

  Kevin pulled out one of the straight-back chairs and set it in front of her. He sat and wondered if he had a prayer of reasoning with her while she was this drunk. Regardless, he had to try.

  “Haley, I need you to listen to me.”

  “I like listening to you talk.”

  “Great. But pay attention to the words, too.”

  She sighed and nodded.

  He had a bad feeling he was screaming into the wind. “You can’t go around trusting people. You’re drunk and vulnerable right now. That’s dangerous. You can’t let strange men into your motel room.”

  Dammit all to hell if she didn’t laugh at him. “I trust you,” she said.

  “You shouldn’t.”

  “Yes, I should. You’re a nice man.”

  Nice? Perfect. Just perfect.

  “Fine. I’m nice. But the next guy won’t be.”

  “I don’t want the next guy. You’re my best shot at being bad.”

  “What?”

  She shrugged and nearly toppled onto her back. He shot out a hand to steady her.

  “You’re nice but you’re bad, too.” She lowered her voice. “I can tell. I want to be bad.” She leaned in close to him. “Don’t you want to help me?”

  What he wanted was to know what he’d done to deserve this.

  She shifted on the bed, suddenly moving closer. Too close. Her gaze settled on his mouth again.

  “Don’t you want to kiss me?” she asked, sounding mournful. “I’d like you to, but I don’t know if I’m very good at it. I’ve always wondered. But how do you ask? I mean, is anyone going to tell the truth? Would you tell me?”

  He had no idea what they were talking about. Despite the ugly dress and her crazy, trusting personality and the fact that if he even thought about touching her he would be zapped by lightning, he suddenly wanted to kiss her.

  He wanted to know what she would taste like and how she would respond. He wanted—

  She suddenly turned from him. Her legs bumped against his as she struggled to get away. He stood, pushing the chair back, and she bolted for the bathroom. The door slammed behind her, the toilet seat went up with a clatter and two seconds later came the sounds of her being violently sick.

  Kevin winced in sympathy. He was guessing this was the first time she’d been drunk, so it was probably the first time she’d been sick with alcohol. Not a fun way to end the day.

  He glanced at the door, then hesitated as the need to do the right thing warred with his desire to bolt for freedom.

  He compromised by deciding to stay until he knew that she was all right. At least he no longer had to worry about his virtue. There was nothing like barfing one’s guts out to break the romantic mood.

  Twenty minutes later it was all over but the moaning. Kevin walked to the bathroom door and knocked softly.

  “Tell me you’re still alive,” he said.

  A groan came in response.

  He pushed the door open and found Haley curled up on the bathroom floor. Her eyes were closed, her skin the color of fog. The soft strands of blond hair now lay plastered against her forehead.

  “I’m dying,” she gasped.

  “It only feels that way.”

  She shook her head, then groaned again.

  “Come on,” he said, crouching next to her. “Get up and take a shower. You’ll feel better.”

  She opened one eye. “I’m never going to feel better.”

  “Hot water works wonders.”

  Her eyelids fluttered shut.

  “Come on, little one,” he said, slipping his arm around her and pulling her into a sitting position.

  She kept her eyes closed until she was upright, then opened them slowly.

  “Is the world still spinning?” he asked.

  “A little. It’s not as fun as it was before.”

  “I’ll bet.” He shifted so he could unbuckle her ugly shoes. “You’re probably done throwing up.”

  “So now I can pass away in peace?”

  “Not on my watch.” He pulled her up until she was sitting on the edge of the tub. “How about a change of clothes for after your shower? Do you have a robe or something?”

  “I have a nightgown in the top drawer.”

  “Stay here. I’ll go get it.”

  Kevin walked into the bedroom. He wasn’t sure what he expected when he slid open the drawer, but any visions of lace and satin were quickly squelched when he saw the high-necked, long-sleeved, cotton granny gown.

  He returned to find her sitting right where he’d left her.

  “Can you stand?” he asked.

  “Why would I want to?” He chuckled.

  She glared. “You should have a little more respect for the dying.”

  “Death is a long way off, Haley. You only wish it wasn’t.”

  He pulled her to her feet. She swayed a little. He shifted so she had a clear line to the toilet, but she didn’t bolt, so he figured they were both safe.

  After pulling the plastic curtain halfway closed, he turned on the water until it was steaming hot, then adjusted the temperature to just below scalding and pulled the knob to start the spray.

  He stepped back. Haley didn’t budge. He gave her a little push toward the water.

  “You can get in dressed or undressed,” he said. “Your choice.”

  One hand fluttered behind her before falling back to her side. He sighed heavily, then pulled down the zipper of her dress. As he did so, he was careful not to look at anything more interesting than the sink he could see over her shoulder. He stepped back and headed for the door.

  “Holler if you need anything.”

  “Okay.”

  He heard her dress hit the floor. His imagination supplied a perfect picture of everything he hadn’t seen. He had a feeling the real thing would be even better. “Kevin?”

  He made the mistake of turning around before he realized the potential for disaster. Haley stood facing him, now clutching her dress to herself, but behind her was the small mirror. It reflected a slender back, narrow waist and gentle curving hips. Cream-colored perfection.

  He made himself look only at her eyes. “What?”

  She swallowed. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  He retreated to the bedroom where he was tortured by the sounds of her in the shower. Reminding himself that she had just been sick, and probably felt less appealing than a fur ball, didn’t help.

  He paced restlessly for ten minutes, then forced himself to sit on the edg
e of the bed and click channels until he found the ball game. It was tied in the eighth inning and damned if he didn’t care at all.

  The shower finally went off. There were more sounds he couldn’t identify, then the bathroom door opened.

  Haley stood dwarfed by her cotton nightgown. The fabric hung to the floor and concealed every single curve and womanly feature. She was pale, but she no longer looked quite so desperate. Her wet hair stood up in spikes. She’d said she was twenty-five, but right now she could pass for twelve.

  “I still feel pretty awful,” she said.

  “That’ll teach you to suck down margaritas at the speed of sound. The good news is you got most of the alcohol out of your system tonight. You’ll be fine in the morning.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  He stood and pulled back the covers. She slid into bed, sitting up against the pillows instead of lying down.

  “You need plenty of water,” he told her, filling a glass from a bottle she had on the small table. “You want to stay hydrated.”

  She nodded as he put the glass on the nightstand. “Are you leaving?”

  Her eyes seemed bigger than before. Her mouth trembled slightly and her voice shook as she spoke. She looked like a drowned kitten.

  Good sense insisted that he head out now that he knew she was all right. There was no point in staying. In the morning she could get back to whatever it was she’d been doing, and he would catch a flight back to D.C. where he was expected for a two o’clock meeting.

  He stared at her, then the door. Her fingers twisted the sheet. “I’ll be fine,” she whispered. “You’ve been really nice and I don’t want to take advantage of that.”

  He called himself eight different names, none of them fit for her ears, kicked off his shoes and sat on the bed.

  “I’ll stay for a little while,” he said, shifting close and putting an arm around her.

  She snuggled against him, resting her head on his chest where her damp hair quickly soaked his shirt. Oddly, he didn’t mind.

  He told himself looking after her was like caring for a child. Except she didn’t feel very childlike in his arms. Nor was his reaction to her even close to paternal.

  “You know all about me,” she said after a few minutes. “What about you? Where are you from?”

  “A place you’ve never heard of. Possum Landing, Texas.”

  She glanced up and smiled. “Possum Landing?”

  He nodded. “Lived there all my life. My brother and I were born in the Dallas area.”

  “You have a brother?”

  “Fraternal twin. Nash works for the FBI.”

  She sighed. “I always wanted a sister, although a brother would have been nice. Sometimes it got quiet, what with there only being me.”

  “Your father never remarried?”

  “No. He and my mom were really in love. He used to tell me that no one could ever take her place. When I was little I thought that was really romantic, but as I got older, I thought it sounded lonely.”

  Kevin agreed. His mother and stepfather had a good, strong marriage, but if something happened to one of them, he would hate to think the other was destined to a solitary life. Not that he was in a position to talk. After all, he’d managed to avoid matrimonial bliss for all of his thirty-one years.

  “You’re a pretty young woman,” he said. “How come you’ve only kissed three guys?”

  She raised her head and looked at him. “You think I’m pretty?”

  “Fishing for compliments?”

  She smiled. “If you knew how seldom they came along, you wouldn’t be asking the question.”

  He didn’t like the sound of that. Why weren’t people complimenting her? Then he remembered the ugly dress and even worse-looking shoes. Maybe it wasn’t such a stretch to think she’d been overlooked.

  “Yes, I think you’re pretty,” he said. “Tell me about dating.”

  “You mean, not dating.” She dropped her head back onto his shoulder. “I can’t really explain it. Some of the reason I never went out much was because I was busy with school activities and different things at church. Some of it was my dad. He used to lecture me on the importance of setting an example and doing the right thing. Plus everywhere I went in town, I knew people. They reported back any hint of unacceptable behavior.”

  She shifted slightly, as if getting more comfortable. The covers slipped, and instead of touching layers of sheet and blanket, he suddenly found his hand resting on her hip. Only the voluminous cotton nightgown kept his fingers from touching bare skin.

  He could feel the heat of her body and the arc of the curve. Ugly clothes or not, she was a woman, down to her toes. An attractive woman who, for reasons he couldn’t explain, appealed to him.

  Touching her hip made him think about touching other parts of her body…such as her breasts. Need flared inside, bringing his own male heat to life.

  Down boy, he told himself. Not this night, not with this woman. Still, a man could dream.

  “Sometimes it seemed easier not to go out,” she continued, apparently unaware of the change in circumstances. “Not that there are all that many guys beating down my front door.” She glanced up at him again. “I’m sure you dated a lot.”

  “Some.”

  Color flared on her cheeks. “You’ve probably even…you know.”

  Uh-oh. He deliberately moved his hand away from her body and rested it on the mattress.

  She cleared her throat. “You’ve probably been with a woman before.”

  He stared at her. “Are you talking about sex?”

  She blushed fiercely and nodded.

  Hell. Why were they talking about this? “I’ve had my way with a woman or two,” he said.

  “What’s it like?”

  Now it was his turn to groan. “We are not having this conversation.”

  “I know it’s not appropriate, but just once I would like someone to give me some details.”

  She wouldn’t be getting them from him, that’s for sure.

  Haley sat up and looked at him. “You’ve been really nice, but I’m feeling much better after the shower.” She yawned. “I guess I’m tired. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

  “I know.” He thought about leaving and realized he wasn’t all that much in a hurry to go. “I’ll head out in a little while.”

  She smiled at him, then. A warm, welcoming smile that stirred something in his chest. Something he hadn’t felt before. Then she picked up the remote on the nightstand before settling back against him.

  “Do you know they have cable here? We never had cable. There’s lots of really cool channels. Even one of those shopping shows.”

  “Great,” he muttered. “Maybe we could finish watching the ball game instead.”

  “Wouldn’t you rather shop?”

  “Not really.”

  She laughed. “Okay. Baseball, then shopping. How’s that?”

  “Sounds good.”

  Kevin didn’t remember falling asleep, but suddenly he came awake. Several bits of information flashed into his brain at once. First, he was in a strange bed, on top of the covers. He knew the woman in his arms, but not how she got there. Second, a man on television was holding up what looked like a pair of diamond earrings and listing all sorts of reasons one should purchase them. Third, his cell was going off.

  He flipped on the lamp on the nightstand and pulled the phone from its spot on his belt. The emergency message chased the last clouds of sleep from his brain.

  He listened to the information, swore, then hung up. Haley had stirred enough to ask what was going on.

  “I have to go,” he said as he pulled on his shoes. “There’s a riot at the prison. I need to get there now.”

  Haley’s blond hair had dried in spikes that stuck up all over her head. She blinked sleepily.

  “A riot?”

  “Yup.”

  Which was exactly how his day had been going. He paused and bent long enough to scrib
ble a number on the pad by the phone.

  “This is my cell number,” he said as he straightened. “Leave me a message in the morning to let me know you’re okay. Agreed?”

  She sat up and nodded. Her big eyes studied him. “I didn’t thank you for everything.”

  “Thank me on the phone. I gotta run.”

  Kevin was out the door before Haley could think of anything else to say. She clicked off the television, then slid over to turn out the light. His side of the bed was warm. She curled up in the dark and thought about all that had happened in the past few hours. She smiled as she realized she’d finally slept with a man. All things considered, the experience had been pretty wonderful.

  Chapter Three

  Haley woke with the sensation that she was late. Before her eyes had focused she was trying to figure out if it was choir practice or her morning to visit the shut-ins or—

  Then she blinked and realized she didn’t recognize her bedroom.

  In the split second it took to view the unfamiliar dresser, the window in the wrong place and the television, the events of the previous evening flashed through her mind like a silent music video. The montage included her entrance into the bar down the street, those scary men who had tried to get her to sit with them, and her rescue by Kevin Harmon. From there she recalled the margaritas, her reaction to the drinks and—

  Here the memories got a little fuzzy. Or maybe it was just that she didn’t want to remember, because honestly, it was too embarrassing to think that she’d actually thrown herself at a man. Worse, he’d turned her down.

  Haley groaned and buried her face in her pillow. The exact sequence of events wasn’t clear, but she definitely recalled something about wanting to be forbidden fruit, then having to throw up. They hardly combined to make a good first impression. And through it all, Kevin had been perfect.

  She sat up suddenly and brushed her too short bangs off her forehead, then stood cautiously and waited to see what her stomach was going to do. But except for an icky taste in her mouth, she felt fine. Certainly a whole lot better than she’d felt the previous night. Lying on that bathroom floor had been the closest she’d ever come to wishing for death. At least for herself.