A Game of Chance by Linda Howard Page B

inadvertently bumping him with her knee. "This is so crowded I may have to sleep on top."
    She heard the words and in shock realized that she had actually said them aloud. She opened her mouth to apologize again.
    "Or I could be the one on top."
    His words stopped her apology cold. Her breath tangled in her lungs and didn't escape. His deep voice seemed to echo in the darkness, that single sentence reverberating through her consciousness. She was suddenly, acutely, aware of every inch of him, of the sensual promise in his tone. The kiss—the kiss she could write off as reaction; danger was supposed to be an aphrodisiac, and evidently that was true. But this wasn't reaction; this was desire, warm and curious, seeking.
    "Is that a 'no' I'm hearing?"
    Her lungs started working again, and she sucked in a breath. "I haven't said anything."
    "That's my point." He sounded faintly amused. "I guess I'm not going to get lucky tonight."
    Feeling more certain of herself with his teasing, she said dryly, "I guess not. You've already used up your quota of luck for the day."
    "I'll try again tomorrow."
    She stifled a laugh.
    "Does that snicker mean I haven't scared you?"
    She should be scared, she thought, or at least wary. She had no idea why she wasn't. The fact was, she felt tempted. Very tempted. "No, I'm not scared."
    "Good." He yawned. "Then why don't you pull off that sweater and let me use it as a pillow, and you can use my shoulder. We'll both be more comfortable."
    Common sense said he was right. Common sense also said she was asking for trouble if she slept in his arms. She trusted him to behave, but she wasn't that certain of herself. He was sexy, with a capital SEX. He made her laugh. He was strong and capable, with a faintly wicked edge to him. He was even a little dangerous. What more could a woman want?
    That was perhaps the most dangerous thing about him, that he made her want him. She had easily resisted other men, walking away without a backward look or a second thought. Chance made her long for all the things she had denied herself, made her aware of how lonely and alone she was.
    "Are you sure you can trust me to behave?" she asked, only half joking. "I didn't mean to say that about being on top. I was half-asleep, and it just slipped out."
    "I think I can handle you if you get fresh. For one thing, you'll be sound asleep as soon as you stop talking."
    She yawned. "I know. I'm crashing hard, if you'll pardon the terminology."
    "We didn't crash, we landed. Come on, let's get that sweater off, then you can sleep."
    There wasn't room to fully sit up, so he helped her struggle out of the garment. He rolled it up and tucked it under his head, then gently, as if worried he might frighten her, drew her against his right side. His right arm curled around her, and she nestled close, settling her head in the hollow of his shoulder.
    The position was surprisingly comfortable, and comforting. She draped her right arm across his chest, because there didn't seem to be any other place to put it. Well, there were other places, but none that seemed as safe. Besides, she liked feeling his heartbeat under her hand. The strong, even thumping satisfied some primitive instinct in her, the desire not to be alone in the night.
    "Comfortable?" he asked in a low, soothing tone.
    "Um-hmm."
    With his left arm he snagged one of the space blankets and pulled it up to cover her to the shoulders, keeping the chill from her bare arms. Cocooned in warmth and darkness, she gave in to the sheer pleasure of lying so close to him. Sleepy desire hummed just below the surface, warming her, softening her. Her breasts, crushed against his side, tightened in delight, and her nipples felt achy, telling her they had hardened. Could he feel them? she wondered. She wanted to rub herself against him like a cat, intensifying the sensation, but she lay very still and concentrated on the rhythm of his heartbeat.
    He had touched her breasts when he kissed her. She wanted