Faking It by Dorie Graham Page A

pierced his, seeking, searching for whatever truth he might hide.
    Why would she ask that? Should he tell her he’d been ill? It didn’t seem to matter. He’d woken up this morning with more energy than he’d had in months. Judging by the way she’d attacked her food, she hadn’t suffered any ill effects.
    “Jack? You okay?”
    “Fine. I woke up today feeling like I could conquer the world. Haven’t felt that good in I don’t know how long.”
    “Really?” Her gaze darkened in that way that melted his insides. “That’s wonderful. I’m so happy to hear that. I slept like a rock myself.”
    He tamped down on the little voice that whispered he was lying by omission. His illness last night didn’t have anything to do with Erin. Besides, what if it had something to do with his heart? He’d have to check with his doctor, but for now he wasn’t ready to tell her about his condition.
    A cool breeze brushed over them. He faced her. “You seemed upset when you left.”
    “That wasn’t like me at all last night. I can’t imagine what you must think of me. I swear that I have never come on to anyone like that, especially not a client.”
    “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a very long time. I want you to do my condo, but if the whole client thing is an issue, then we can always delay this job. Or I can find someone else.”
    “That’s entirely up to you. I won’t hold you to that contract and I’ll return your deposit if that’s what you want.”
    “No, that isn’t what I want. But I want you to be comfortable working with me and…” He took her hand again. “I want to be with you.”
    “Jack—”
    “We’ll be discreet. I don’t know anyone in the design circles except for you. I want to get to know you, Erin. I want more nights like last night and I don’t see why we have to wait until you’re finished with the redesign on my house.
    “That’s much less important. If you can tell me that’s what you truly want, then I’ll do my best to leave you alone, but you have to tell me honestly that you don’t want me. Can you do that?” he asked.
    Her gaze again met his and a sense of well-being settled over him. A small smile played across her lips. “No, Jack, I can’t.”
    His smile matched hers and his body hummed with anticipation. “So does that mean I get a good-night kiss when I take you home tonight?”
    The curve of her throat captured his gaze. He imagined kissing her there, his mouth watering for the taste of her.
    She stopped and turned to him. “Why don’t you take me home and find out?”

8
    H EAT COURSED THROUGH Erin as Jack pressed her to the wall and kissed her neck. How they’d made it back to her apartment was a blur. One minute they’d been walking after sharing a civilized meal and the next they’d been falling through her door on top of each other.
    She should stick to her guns, revive her plan to give up men. But Jack wasn’t just any man, and all her well-thought-out intentions flew out the window when he was near.
    His mouth skimmed over her collarbone, then up her neck, sending awareness shimmering through her. Hell, she’d known in the restaurant she wouldn’t be able to protest. He hadn’t been ill last night. The thought sent happiness and desire flowing through her.
    Had she found the one man she could be with?
    She tugged his already unbuttoned shirt from his pants, then slid her hands up his abdomen, over his chest, her fingertips alive with the feel of warm, hard muscle beneath them.
    “I want you, Erin,” he said, his voice rough with desire.
    She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body so close to his, his heart thudded against her breast. His mouth found hers and his tongue greeted her with hungry strokes. For long moments she stood mesmerized by his kiss, her body drinking in the feel of him so near, his scent wrapped around her and his hands stroking her, holding her close.
    Then he traced his mouth down her throat