Ryan's Place by Sherryl Woods Page A

Another stretch. And then a sigh as her eyes flickered open. A smile curved her lips. “Hi,” she said softly.
    “Hey, sleepyhead.”
    “I guess I fell asleep. What time is it?”
    “After one. I need to get you home.”
    She kept her gaze steady on him. “I could stay here. Save you the trip.”
    Ryan stood up and backed away so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet. “Not a good idea.”
    She seemed amused by his reaction. “Surely you have a sofa I could sleep on,” she said, her expression innocent. “Where do you live, by the way?”
    “Upstairs.”
    “Well then, that’s a whole lot handier than driving all the way to my place.”
    “Maybe so, but something tells me I don’t want to tangle with your father and your brothers, who might find the idea of you staying at my place a little premature.”
    She grinned. “Premature, not out of the question?”
    “Maggie.” It came out as part protest, part plea.
    “I just want things to be absolutely clear between us,” she said.
    “And I’ll be happy to let you know when I have them figured out,” Ryan retorted.
    “You’re assuming you’re the only one who gets to have asay,” she accused lightly. “Wrong, Devaney. I’m part of this equation.”
    “Didn’t you tell me that your life is in a bit of a muddle right now?” he asked. “You don’t need to add to that by getting mixed up with me.”
    She rose gracefully from the chair and crossed the room until she could reach up and place a hand against his cheek. Ryan felt that touch straight through to his toes.
    “What if I want to get mixed up with you?” she asked.
    “Why would you want that? I’m not an easy man to be with, Maggie. I don’t let people in. I like my privacy. I like the status quo.”
    She laughed. “If that was supposed to scare me off, it missed the mark. You’ve just made the game more interesting.”
    “Is that all it is to you, a game? Because if that’s it, maybe we have something to talk about after all. But if it’s more you’re after—” he captured her gaze and held it “—I’m the wrong man.”
    Her gaze never faltered. “I suppose time will tell about that, won’t it?”
    She stood on tiptoe and touched her lips to his, a quick brush of soft heat that invited more. Too much more.
    Before Ryan could stop himself, he’d dragged her back for another kiss, this one deeper and more urgent. He was only dimly aware of the soft-as-satin texture of her mouth under his, of the faint taste of coffee and the heady scent of perfume. What truly captured his attention was the jolt to his system, the rush of blood and lick of fire that had him wanting more…needing more. Her body—soft and pliant—molded to his, as close as a second skin, as tempting and dangerous as anything he’d ever known.
    He was on the brink of dragging her straight upstairs, not to his sofa but to his bed, when reason kicked in. Breathing hard, he backed away and dragged a shaky hand through his hair.
    “I’m sorry,” he apologized.
    “I’m not,” she said, sounding more triumphant than shaken. “I’ve been waiting my whole life for a kiss like that.”
    Warning bells went off in Ryan’s head. “It was just a kiss,” he said, regarding her uneasily.
    “That’s like saying the Revolutionary War was just a little disagreement over tea.”
    Despite his wariness, the analogy amused him. “There was the Boston Tea Party,” he reminded her.
    “Tip of the iceberg,” she countered. “It’s okay, though, if this was just a kiss for you. Maybe then you won’t mind doing it again.”
    He heard the teasing note in her voice and decided to ignore the challenge. “Not tonight. Grab your coat and let’s get out of here.”
    “Chicken,” she murmured as she passed him.
    “Damn straight,” he replied without apology. Anything else and he’d be making the kind of decisions a man would only live to regret.

Chapter Six
    W hen Maggie finally crept into the house, it was nearly