Fall Into Love (Simone: Part One Naughty Nookie Series) Read Online Free Page A

That granddad saved grandma, when she nearly
broke her back in a nightclub.  A unique first meeting, or
what?
    Eek! I shouldn’t be thinking so far ahead
and this is the main reason I’ve never partaken in one-night
stands.  I sink too deeply, too quickly into thinking
something exists, where it doesn’t.  Differentiating between
sex and feeling is nigh on impossible for me; another reason for my
celibate state.  Not just my latent guilt over
divorcing.    
    “ That sounds like a
promise,” I murmur, trying to remember what we were talking about
and getting hot and bothered at the same time. 
    “ Might be because it’s
just that.”
    “ Just?” Pretending to be
put out, I pout.  
    Honest to God pucker up. 
    I’m not a pouter, have never been one
either.  If anyone in my little trio of friends is likely to
pucker up, it’s Marina.  She has that whole sulky, sultriness
that men go crazy for, down cold.  But for me, that kind of
thing has never worked.  I’m way too much the
girl-next-door.  The girl that gets ignored, that gets
looked over and then finally, if she’s lucky, gets seen and snapped
up.  In my experience that rarely happens. 
    So why, if I am the girl-next-door type, am
I pouting?
    I have no idea.  From
the glint in his eye, he likes this newly discovered side of
me. 
    “ Just?” I repeat, waiting
to see how he’ll answer. 
    He grins at me, eyes sparkling and says,
“Well, the reason I managed to save you, was because I was studying
your butt all night.  The minute it moved an inch, I did
too.”
    As soon as those words escape his mouth,
relief fills me.  Not one part of me wants to mess this up and
now, I know I can’t.  He wants me like I want
him.  
    This isn’t some coyote-ugly situation.
    Thank. Fuck.
    “ Ah, so you weren’t my
knight in shining armor,” I tease, tongue in cheek.  “But a
stalker!”
    The richness of his chuckle surprises even
him.  I can tell.  He looks almost shocked that he can be
amused.  As though he can’t believe it’s possible for him to
laugh anymore.
    Such engrained sorrow disturbs me. What made
him like that? The war? Life? I don’t know… I’d like to find
out.
    This man of few words has me on the edge of
my seat, wanting to know more.
    I’m in dangerous territory, but who can
resist a brooding hunk?
    I know I can’t.
    “ Well, I wouldn’t class
myself as a stalker, honey.  But you never know.  I guess
it depends on how deep you hook your claws into me.”
    Tapping my nails against
the scratched and scarred tabletop, I curl my fingers, lifting them
to my mouth and blow along my nails as though I’ve just painted
them. Then, proffering them to him, say, “I doubt they can do much
damage.”
    My nails are short.  Practical. 
And un-lacquered.  Unlike Marina and Eddie who seem to change
the color of their nails every day of the week.  I only bother
to paint my toes.
    If I could ask why he’d been watching me,
why his eyes had been on me and not them, without sounding needy or
insecure, I would have.  Instead, I keep quiet and stop myself
from messing up a good thing. 
    The more I see him in
unflattering or flattering light—either way works just fine for
Zane—the more attractive I realize he is.  It’s also more
astounding that he’s settled for little old me, but in light of
this new information, he hasn’t settled .  I’ve been chosen by
him. 
    And suddenly, my
self-esteem shoots up another ten notches.  I hate the fact
that a guy has done that.  Twenty-first century or not, a
woman should not be relying on a man to feel good.  But
dammit, when a man looks this fine, how can I not be pleased ?
    Hell, how can I not gloat?!
    “ Where are you staying?” I
ask, hoping he’ll make an invitation of his own. 
    Smiling a little as he accepts my hand and
curls his own fingers about mine, he says, “Oh, just the Kensington
Park.”
    I chortle at the use of
the word just with the Kensington Park hotel.