Read Run the Risk for Free Online Page B

trailing the backs of his fingers over her cheek, he took
his own seat. “Dig in.”
    “Thank you,” she said again.
    He thoughtfully watched her as he ate. “You know, I just had my
tongue in your mouth, so you don’t have to be so formal.”
    Pepper gasped—and choked on her pizza. What was he thinking,
saying something like that over dinner? Did he have no sense of propriety at
all?
    After a bout of wheezing, she caught her breath, looked at him,
saw he was still eating while studying her reaction, and decided that no, he did
not have any sense of decorum.
    “It bothers you?” he asked. “Kissing me, I mean? Is that why
you’re over there strangling yourself?”
    “No—”
    “Sure looked bothered to me.”
    “I didn’t expect to discuss it over dinner!”
    He ignored that. “I’m wondering,” he said, “if I mentioned how
bad I want to get you naked, would you keel right over?”
    Throwing the slice of pizza at him seemed like a good idea.
Instead she put it back on her plate. Should she leave? Show disdain?
Embarrassment?
    She decided on a dose of honesty instead. “You’ll never see me
naked.”
    “No?” As if only mildly curious, he asked, “Why not?”
    “Because I won’t allow it.”
    His eyes narrowed—and his gaze went to her chest. “Too shy,
huh?”
    She sat back in her seat. “You don’t talk like a man who ever
hopes to be successful. You’re so mocking, it’s almost an insult.”
    “Don’t mean to be.” He put another gigantic slice of pizza onto
his plate. “Truth is, Sue, you confound me.”
    “Confound you?”
    She had to wait while he devoured half the pizza. After he
wiped his mouth with a napkin, he crossed his arms over the table. “You’re as
interested as I am. I wasn’t the only one on the couch who wanted more.”
    Since he waited, she said, “No.” She’d probably been far
needier than he was. For certain, she’d been celibate longer.
    “So why are you so skittish? Why the mixed messages?”
    Shoot. She had been pretty inconsistent. But how could she
possibly explain the past that held her back, the fears that dictated she show
discretion in all things?
    He saved her by reaching for her hand. “You can tell me, you
know.”
    No, she most definitely could not. She eyed him warily. “Tell
you what?”
    “If someone hurt you. If you’re just inexperienced. If you’re
modest or afraid or…whatever the problem might be.”
    All that? What exactly did he think? That she’d lived in a
convent? That she’d been a victim of abuse? For certain she couldn’t tell him
any part of the truth. Even with the passing of time, even with Morton Andrews’s
club, Checkers, being in another county—distant enough that they wouldn’t run
into him, close enough that Rowdy could keep tabs on him—the truth would be
risky.
    But she had to say something, so
she looked at his big hand holding hers. “I am shy. And I am modest.” A really
good liar, too.
    “But you want me.”
    Did she ever. Whether she should or not, whether it was wise or
not.
    “Sue? Whatever you tell me, it’s okay. I’m not going to start
rushing you.”
    Baloney. That’s all he’d done so far. She met his gaze.
“Yes.”
    It took several heartbeats before he repeated, “Yes…what?”
    “I want you.” Let him deal with that. “Your interest has been
flattering,” she added, trying to sound a little more uncertain. “But I’m not
comfortable with anyone seeing me.”
    His sharpened attention moved over her. “Naked, you mean?”
    “Yes, that’s what I mean.”
    A heated stillness fell over him. “You don’t have anything I
haven’t already seen, right?”
    She almost choked again. He had no idea the surprises she kept
hidden. “I’m not disfigured, if that’s what you’re asking.”
    “No, I wasn’t. Just making a point, that’s all. And if modesty
is the only problem—”
    “It’s not.” No, there were a million reasons why she shouldn’t
get too involved with him,