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Rules of Engagement
Jill
pulled in a deep breath and let it out slow. So what if everyone knew she and Morgan Price
were staying at the Inn together? she thought rebelliously and sat up straighter. Big
deal. They were both adults. Adults everyone believed engaged to be married. Homer,
Illinois may be a throwback to Mayberry R.F.D., but Jill Cassidy had stepped right off of
Wilshire Boulevard where sharing a hotel room with man was as common as rush-hour traffic.
"Besides," Morgan said, drawing her
attention to the lopsided grin tipping his oh-so-sexy mouth. "Nothing is going to
happen."
Now there was a point she could easily argue.
Morgan's objection was a mountain she had every intention of climbing, and conquering. She
grinned. "Really? We will be sleeping in the same bed, you know."
His grin faded. "Sleeping, Jill. That's all
we'll be doing."
"Hmm." She stood and grabbed her
suitcase, ignoring the firmness of his voice. Setting it on the bed beside Morgan, she
snapped the locks and flipped it open.
"What does that mean?" he asked, his
brows pulling together in a frown.
"Nothing," she said with an innocence
she was suddenly very far from feeling. Morgan was a challenge. Too bad he didn't know she
thrived when challenged.
Poor man. He was about to embark upon a path of
discovery he'd never forget.
Lifting the sheer creme teddy she'd bought with
him specifically in mind, she felt decidedly wicked. Rising to the challenge, she turned
to face him, holding the whisper thin material against her. The look filling his gaze told
her his thoughts were equally wicked.
"It just sounds like you're trying to
convince yourself that's all we'll be doing," she said, then re-folded the teddy to
place in the drawer of the dresser.
He let out a long breath of air and stood.
"Maybe I am," he admitted, looking down at her.
She pulled a satin floral chemise from her
suitcase.
Desire flashed in his eyes.
Oh yeah, they would definitely be dancing the
horizontal mambo before heading back to the separate lives. An experience she had no doubt
would be more than pleasurable. She only hoped that in conquering his objections, she
didn't lose sight of her own important goals.
"Don't you own any flannel?" he
groused.
She gazed up at him with feigned innocence,
slowly shaking her head. "I like the feel of satin against my body."
She held the nightie toward him, the thin
spaghetti straps looped loosely over her fingers. He backed up a step as if she held
something cold-blooded and poisonous instead of a nightie she suspected was stirring some
very interesting thoughts in his mind.
At least she hoped so. Hers was working
overtime.
"Go ahead," she coaxed, dropping her
voice to a husky purr reserved for moonlit nights. "Touch it. Feel the way it just
glides across your skin."
He tucked his fingers in the front pockets of
his jeans.
Disappointed, but far from discouraged, she
shrugged and gently folded the nightie, then turned to place it in the drawer with the
teddy.
"What are you doing?" he asked when
she pulled a stack of lacy panties and matching bras from her suitcase. She hadn't really
imagined the slight panic in his voice, had she?
She glanced over her shoulder then quickly
turned away to hide the smile tugging her lips. Most definitely panic.
"Unpacking." She added a few camisoles
to the drawer. "We're supposed to be at my parents' house in a little over an hour
for dinner. I'd like to shower and change, but I need to unpack first."
He muttered something about water temperature
she didn't quite catch, then snagged his bag and disappeared into the bathroom.
She let out a sigh and continued unpacking. She
didn't feel much like a conquering warrior, but at least she'd managed to draw her
opponent into the open, until he'd retreated to the bathroom. She wasn't discouraged. By
the time she finished with her suitcase, she still had hope of emerging victorious.
Too bad her faith in happily-ever-after had
become so tarnished, she thought, hanging her garment bag and Morgan's in the closet. His
noble intentions were commendable, and no matter how endearing, unnecessary. He was the
kind of guy who could easily restore her faith in fairy tales, if she let herself be swept
away by all that nobility and honor. The fact that he had knight-in-shining-armor written
all over his glorious body didn't hurt either.
And she'd always been a voracious reader.
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