Undercover Passion by Raye Morgan Page B

more interested. Instead, she got the feeling he was looking toward the door, wishing it would open and give him an escape route.
    Ordinarily that would have been the end of it for her. She never pushed into situations where she wasn’t wanted. But for some reason she couldn’t let it go tonight. She couldn’t really believe he didn’t feel any attraction. Not after the way he’d kissed her earlier that evening. Just thinking of it made her breath come a little faster. Nobody else’s kiss had ever had that effect on her.
    â€œAbby, you deserve a man who will treat you right. A man who has a future for you. Someone who has your type of background and your type of friends and—”
    â€œMaybe you’re right,” she broke in. If she let him go on, he would be putting her on a pedestal so high she was bound to break a leg falling off. “Maybe I do deserve some fabulous mythical paragon of excellence.”
    Uncoiling from her comfortable place at the end of the couch, she began to move toward him.
    â€œBut I don’t want that, Daniel O’Callahan.” She touched his cheek and smiled into his eyes. “I want you.”
    â€œYou want me.” He echoed her words mindlessly, grabbing her hand and pulling it away.
    â€œNo, Abby. Listen, you’re crazy. You don’t really want me. You want some nice guy who will treat you nice and take you to the country club and play tennis and do what’s right. I’m not like that. I work the streets where things get ugly. I hang out with people you wouldn’t let in your front door. I’m used to having things a little rough, a little dirty.”
    Something was quivering deep inside her. He was making her absolutely insane with wanting him.
    â€œYou seem okay to me.”
    He swore softly, turning his shoulder as though to stop her from coming closer and his eyes looked very dark. “Abby, I’m barely housebroken. I don’t belong with a nice girl like you.”
    She pulled her hand back and placed it on his bare chest, spreading the fingers against his smooth, hard flesh and gasping softly at the feel of him.
    â€œWhy don’t you shut up and kiss me?” she murmured breathlessly.
    He hesitated. He was still going to try to get out of it. So she took matters into her own hands—literally—wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down until she was rewarded with ashuddering groan that seemed to come from deep inside him and his mouth took hers.
    The room faded. Reality lost all importance. The only thing that seemed to matter was the sweet, hot taste of his tongue, the feel of his hands on her skin, the way her body was responding to his, as though she’d found a new world, a new state of being, and she never wanted to leave it again. He smelled so good, felt so smooth and hard, she was on a long slide to something new and she was ready to go.
    But it all crumbled quickly, and he jerked away from her, rising and looking down at her, his green eyes a bit wild. He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head, breathing hard.
    â€œOkay, that’s all,” he said. “I’m getting out of here. If the shirt’s still wet, I’ll wear it anyway.”
    She looked up at him, feeling cold without his touch, not sure what he meant. “But—”
    He shook his forefinger at her. “No more out of you. I know where all this passion is coming from.”
    She blinked, trying to clear her head. She was still fuzzy from his kiss. Maybe she always would be.
    â€œYou do?” she said, wishing she knew what the heck he was talking about.
    â€œI do.”
    She frowned. “No, you don’t.”
    He held up his hand. “Save it for the funny papers, lady. I’ve got your number and I’m already gone.”
    She sat where she was, frowning in bewilderment as he made his way down the hall and came back, his shirt hugging that wonderful