Lori Foster - Hot In Here

He also thought of the shoebox he’d found, and the tantalizing prospects it had presented. Harris was strangely aware of the photo in his back pocket, and Clair’s hand in his.

Two women, both of them making him nuts.

What the hell was a guy supposed to do?

* * *

CLAIR STOPPED in front of her steps. So far, Harris seemed more than a little interested in sex, but she wanted more than that. She wanted him to want her, in and out of bed. She felt manipulative, teasing him and then pulling back. Making comments that she knew would get him thinking about sex. But she didn’t know what else to do.

And already it was working with Harris. He wanted her now—but he still wanted her alter ego, the Naked Lady, too. Somehow, she had to get him to give up the fantasy prompted by those stupid photos.

Feeling awkward, Clair said, “It’s early yet.”

A light sheen of sweat dampened Harris’s bare shoulders and chest. He had his hands on his hips, breathing deeply, watching her. “You pulled our run short.”

Clair shrugged, adjusted her glasses nervously. “Want to come up?”

His gaze sharpened. Like a blue laser, his gaze pinned her in place. Slowly his hands dropped from his hips and he took a step closer. “Are you playing with me again?”

Man, he was still primed, ready to jump the gun—apparently ready to jump her. “I’ve had you up to my place a dozen times, Harris. For drinks, a snack.”

His hands came to settle on her waist. “For more?”

Despite her urge to say yes, Clair laughed. “We’re both sweaty and you have to be up early.”

“I’m never too tired for—”

“Will you send me in alone if I say I just want to talk?”

For a brief moment, his hands tightened, then the heat left his eyes and he released her with a sigh. “What the hell. I always enjoy talking to you.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Lead the way.”

Her apartment was dark when they first went in. Clair turned on lamps as she headed to the kitchen. “You want something to eat or drink?”

“Just some water.” He trailed behind her, far too close, in Clair’s opinion.

She filled two glasses with ice, then got the spring water from the fridge. “So tell me what the attraction is.”

“To you?”

He looked perplexed enough that Clair wanted to hit him. “No, not to me. Far as I know, you’re not attracted to me.”

He cocked one brow, then looked pointedly at her body. “I’d be more than happy to prove you wrong on that.”

Clair groaned. “So then why do you want the woman in the photos so bad? She gets naked and that makes you so interested you can’t let it go?”

He immediately shook his head. “She does look hot, no way around that. I mean, any woman who’s comfortable being naked is okay in my book.”

“Really?”

He grinned. “Hell yeah. If it was up to me, all women would stay naked. At least when we were alone together.”

That had Clair blushing a bit, especially as Harris let his gaze roam over her, no doubt imagining her in such a state. Not that he had to imagine, if he only realized....

“But the woman in the photo also said some nice things in her notes.”

“So?”

Harris rubbed the back of his neck and paced away. He had a gorgeous back, strong and broad, sleek and hard with muscle. His shorts rode low on his hips, hugging a narrow behind and strong thighs. “This is kind of embarrassing.”

She knew all about embarrassing. “Why? We’re friends.”

He nodded, turned to face her. “She said I’m generous.” Harris looked uncomfortable. “And funny and heroic.”

Men could be such dolts. “Well, of course she did. Because you are.” Clair handed him his water. “You’re one of the greatest guys I know.”

The water never made it to his mouth. “You think so?”

“Absolutely.”

“But I didn’t know....”

“Harris,” she said with aggrieved sigh. “Do you think I’d hang out with a guy who was an idiot?”

His mouth tipped in a crooked grin. “You call me an idiot all the time.”

Too true. It had always been her way of making sure she kept her feelings to herself. A self-protection mechanism of sorts that reminded her she wasn’t to get too romantic with Harris.

Clair moved back to the living room and dropped onto her overstuffed, oversize couch. She stretched out her legs, caught Harris staring at them, and smiled. “Yeah, well, I insult you with affection. I don’t mean it.” She sent him a quick grin, just to keep her comments from getting too dramatic. “If I didn’t like, respect and admire you, I wouldn’t want your company.”

His brows came down, his expression arrested. Clair stared at him over her glasses. “Now what’s wrong?”

With a small shake of his head, Harris muttered, “I need to think. You’ve sort of thrown a bunch of stuff at me all at once.”

“Thinking is good.” Clair waited while he, too, plopped onto the sofa. Because of their conversation, sitting so close to him felt different this time. “You should decide what you’ll do once you find this woman. I mean, have you considered that?”

He propped his big feet on her coffee table and let his head fall back. “At least a hundred times.”

Clair stared at his abdomen. It, too, was hard, lean and ridged with muscle. A dark, silky line of hair led from his navel to beneath the waistband of his shorts.

She held herself in check, when what she wanted to do was attack him again. “So,” she said, sounding a little strained, “what if she’s a witch? What if she has an ogre’s personality? She could be like a fatal attraction or something. A nut. A slasher even.”

Harris rolled his head toward her. “You made your point early on, hon. Now you’re just stretching it.”

Clair shrugged. “But the point is valid.”

“Maybe.” Harris stared at her, surveying her face as if trying to read her thoughts. “She didn’t sound like a slasher in her notes. She sounded like a nice lady.”

Here we go again. “You don’t want a nice lady, Harris, remember? You want someone who’s out for kicks. Nice women tend to get serious thoughts when they’re having sex with a guy.”

His blue eyes filled with speculative interest. Still lounging back lazily, he said, “You’re nice.”

Nervousness fluttered through her. Was there a point to that? Maybe something she was missing? She took a big gulp of her water, then agreed, “I’m very nice.”

Harris warmed to his topic, leaning toward her a bit, resting his arm along the back of the sofa. His fingers just touched her nape, teasing her a bit. “So if we slept together,” he asked in a slow drawl, “you’d want to settle down with me?”

Lord yes. She wanted to claim him as her own, and have babies and make love every night.... “I dunno.” Her feigned indifference was laudable. “See, even if we did sleep together...”

“Yes?”

“I have an advantage.”

“Do tell. I’m on the edge of my seat here.”

Smugly, Clair stated, “Unlike other women you know, I have no illusions. I’ve watched you revel in your bachelor ways.”

“I don’t revel.” His mouth flattened in distaste. “You make it sound like I go around dancing and singing about it. I just enjoy my life, that’s all.”

“Thing is,” Clair continued, ignoring his protests, “I’m not sure you really know what you want or feel.”

“So I can’t figure out you or me, huh? What a dope I must be.”

“I didn’t say that, Harris. Don’t put words in my mouth.” He grinned at her, seeming far from insulted. “Look at the way you’re panting over a photo. That proves you’re anxious for a serious relationship.”