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so,” she said in a shaky voice. Her accompanying nod was barely perceptible against the expanse of his chest. Her hurried breaths fanned his left biceps, sending shivers up and down his spine.
    “That was far too close,” he whispered in a husky tone, fighting his inner demons. Roxie could so easily have been killed right in front of his eyes.
    “Uh-huh.” She didn’t stir against him, her arms tightly circled around his neck, the soft suppleness of her body pressed to the length of his. The fragrance from her hair enveloped him, teasing, coaxing, arousing.
    He was oblivious to the traffic passing by until a gravelly male voice called out, “Hey guys! Get a room!”
    She gave a little laugh, but Charlie couldn’t make out whether it was from embarrassment or some other emotion. As he rushed across the street with her tightly pressed against his aching body, he wondered if she’d felt the same heightened sensations he had.
    Angry with himself for being wound up to fever pitch by his own desire, he paused under the bus shelter’s roof, and spun Roxie around. “Were you trying to get yourself killed?” He hadn’t meant the words to sound so harsh, and bit his lower lip. Where had his self-control gone? He released her and pushed her down onto the unyielding wooden slat bench. Of all the stupid things, to want a woman after she’d just about been run over by a maniac trucker.
    Her blue eyes went wide and her glossy lips edged apart slightly. “I wasn’t intending to get killed,” she murmured, her gaze fixed somewhere near his nose. “I thought you might like something cold to drink.”
    Her tiny earrings glittered in the sunlight. His gaze slid from her twinkling eyes to her quivering mouth. He could bend ever so slightly and kiss her, taste her, drive himself further into this insanity of longing. He cleared his throat, struggling to find the right words. She’d been crossing the street with a cold drink for him? Had she been watching him?
    Highly erotic thoughts of what those parted lips could do to him flooded his feverish mind. She’d kiss his mouth in a fierce onslaught and they would leave a fiery trail down the length of his body, from his throat to his navel and beyond. Oh God, Charles Vernon. Stop tormenting yourself like this. Why couldn’t he think about anything but sex in Roxie’s presence? Heck, and out of it too, he told himself, remembering his much too vivid fantasy of the ballroom floor.
    “That semi would have run you over,” he told her. It wasn’t hard to drum up the fury rising from within his chest. His blood was still boiling, not only from the exertion but from the fear he’d felt as he’d seen what was about to happen.
    Roxie touched his forearm. “Thanks.” She blushed prettily and tantalizingly. “For saving me.” She clearly meant every soft-spoken word. Her gaze caught his and her pupils dilated. Her nipples budded against the thin fabric of her bodice.
    Though skilled at hiding his emotions, Charlie couldn’t let go of his anger. “Do you understand that you could have been severely injured or worse yet killed?” He should have been thankful that she cared enough about him to come out into the sweltering heat, but his mind’s imaginative eye conjured up a terrifying picture of mangled, bloodied limbs.
    Blue eyes squinted closed in shock before she flashed them open. “You were clearly miserable. I was trying to do something nice for you.”
    “If you want to do something nice—” Charlie cut his retort off just in time, or else he’d have admitted that if Roxie did want to do something for him, she could take care of the raging need she’d single-handedly inspired. No, that wasn’t wholly true. The woman in black leather this morning had had a lot to do with cranking up the heat.
    She assessed him quickly, lowered her gaze and pursed her lips. Her hand fell to her side. “I thought you might be hot but the only place you’re steaming now is under the