Janelle Denison: Forbidden

Ignoring the ache in her chest, she made a mental note to call her realtor and broker first thing Monday morning and begin the sale proceedings on the house and the Wild Rose. Then she rummaged a clip from the vanity drawer, secured her hair on top of her head, and stepped into the spacious tiled shower.

Fifteen minutes later she exited the bathroom, feeling nore refreshed and awake, and determined not to alow the most emotionally fulfilling night of her life to interfere with her friendship with Josh.

She combed her hair and left it down, brushed her teeth, and put on a light application of makeup. Keeping in mind the various abrasions on her body, she opted for a hunter-green turtleneck and cream-colored slacks. Slipping on a pair of leather flats, she exited the bedroom, certain Josh was still there, considering she’d interrupted him before he could finish telling her about Anthony, and the case he’d been working on.

The living room was straightened, their coffee cups gone, the ashes in the grate completely cooled. The eat, folded pile of clothes and underthings she’d shed for Josh was the only evidence of what had transpired last night.

The sliding glass door leading to the deck was open, and through the screen she saw Josh leaning against the railing, staring out at the blue ocean, his long fingers wrapped around a coffee mug with curls of steam drifting from the rim. He was dressed in the clothes he’d worn yesterday, his shoulder holster back in place, his Beretta tucked securely inside. His posture was decep tively relaxed, but she knew at any given moment those lean muscles of his could spring into action-in less than two seconds he could have his gun out of the hol ster and drawn. He was trained to protect and serve and shoot to kill if the situation warranted it

Then he turned, as if sensing she stood there, and she had no choice but to open the screen door and step out onto the deck. She had no intention of avoiding him, on their morning-after conversation. The sooner they hashed things out, the better.

But she hadn’t counted on him looking at her with such tenderness. Never would have expected the sensual, possessive smile that curved his mouth. Couldn’t have anticipated that his smoldering brown eyes would touch her as intimately as his hands and mouth had last night.

She damned her traitorous body for responding to him after her stern lecture to herself in the bathroom.

“Good morning,” he said, bringing his coffee mug to his lips, watching her over the rim while he look a drink.

Even his voice was richer, she thought. Sexier than she could ever remember. It was a bad sign that she noticed. Real bad.

“Good morning,” she replied easily. Coming up be side where he stood by the white wooden railing encasing the deck, she stared out at the expanse of sane stretching toward the beach, still damp from the previous night’s rain. The bright sun shimmered off the calm ocean, and a cool breeze lifted her hair away from he face.

She filled her lungs with a breath of clean, sea air “Judging by the beautiful weather today, you’d never guess that there was such a ferocious storm last night.”

“That’s typical Miami weather for you.”

“Yeah, I suppose it is.” Like strangers, they were reduced to talking about the weather. Inane conversation when there were so many personal issues to address. She’d never had a problem talking to Josh before. Their ability to communicate freely was one of the things she’d loved best about their friendship. She hated to think that last night might have put a crimp in that aspect of their relationship.

An awkward silence stretched between them, until she wanted to scream in frustration. She could feel his gaze on her, knew he was watching her, and finally gathered the fortitude to look at him and be done with it.

Up close and personal she noticed he looked different. Then the change registered-no dark stubble this morning. “You shaved,” she said, the words escaping before she could stop them.

He ran a palm over his smooth cheek, a grin creasing his mouth. “Yeah. I used your razor. And your toothbrush. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” Considering the sensual things they’d done to one another during the course of the night, she wasn’t about to balk at that simple intimacy.

Catching sight of a light, purplish-blue discoloration on his jaw, she felt a wave of remorse wash over her. Without thinking, she reached out and lightly touched the tender spot. “You’re bruised.” Her voice was as soft as her gently probing fingers.

Awareness stirred in the depth of his gaze, darkening with the warmth of desire. For her. “You’ve got quite a left hook.”

Her pulse quickened, a feminine warning she heeded. Abruptly, she pulled her hand back. Lord, she couldn’t even touch him anymore, not even in casual concern, without sparks igniting between them. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for touching me,” he said, deliber- ately misconstruing her apology. “I like the way your hands feel on me.”

His blatant admission caused a frisson of heat within her. The rogue wasn’t going to make this easy on her “Josh, about last night-”

“Do you regret what happened?” he interrupted.

“No, I don’t.” She couldn’t lie. She’d needed him in ways she couldn’t explain. A part of her still did, but she didn’t take the time to analyze those feelings. “But it happened for all the wrong reasons.”

He set his empty coffee mug on the round glass table then pinned her with a direct look. “I’d like to think i happened for a few right reasons.”

Like the need they had for each other. She pushed that thought aside and focused on the future, which didn’t include giving her heart to another man who risked his life on a daily basis. “Josh, please don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what?” Determination and an edge of anger flared in his eyes, turning them a rich shade of gold “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, or feel guilty about We’re both consenting adults, and we didn’t hurt anyone by making love.”

His approach was about as subtle as a battering ram “No, I won’t argue with that.”

Her ambiguous agreement seemed to annoy him even more, as if he’d been expecting, wanted even, a debate. His mouth stretched into a tight line and his brows creased. “Are you on any kind of birth control?”

“Birth control?” she echoed, momentarily startled by his very personal question.

“Yeah, birth control.” His hands came to rest on his lean hips, and his gaze locked on hers. “We didn’t use any protection last night, Paige.”

Her stomach took a dive, and she pressed a hand to her belly before she could consider what she was doing, and how her actions might look to Josh. “Uh, no, I’m not on any kind of birth control.” She’d gone off the Pill when Anthony had died. The possibility of getting pregnant had been the furthest thing from her mind when she’d asked Josh to make love to her. “But I should be fine. My period is due to start soon.”

Her verbal reassurance didn’t alleviate the concern glinting in his eyes. “Will you let me know if you’re pregnant?”

The image of herself round with Josh’s child flashed in her mind, and her heart skipped a beat. She wanted children so very badly, had always dreamed of having a large family one day. But the emotional complication of having Josh’s baby wasn’t something she wanted to contemplate. Being pregnant would irrevocably change her life, force her to make choices and decisions she hadn’t figured into the equation of her immediate future.

So she opted for more positive thoughts on the matter. “I’ll let you know when I start my period.” Desperately wanting a diversion from that intimate topic, she broached a more unpleasant issue she knew Josh would eventually address even if she didn’t. “Last night you said there was more I needed to know about Anthony and the case he was working on.”