Mad About You Read Online Free Page B

right?”
    “Right,” she said casually, as if she weren’t hyperaware of him standing so close. She turned and smoothed down his collar, fascinated by the pulse beating in his tanned skin at the base of his neck. What was she doing noticing his body in such detail? Yet she found herself adding, “We might have to hold hands or something, too.”
    He reached for her right hand and entwined his long fingers with hers. The warm pressure of his palm against hers sent a shimmer of electricity up her arm. “This feels strange.”
    “We’ll just have to pretend to like it.” She paused, wondering how far she could push this. “Maybe you should practice putting your arm around me.”
    “Like this?” He slid his arm around her waist and turned so they faced their reflections in the hall mirror. “We could pass for a couple.”
    “I guess.” Cassy forgot to breathe. Scott standing so close, with his hard body pressing into her side, sent tingles over, through, and around her, like a rising spiral of cartoon sparkles in some damn Disney movie. But hell. It was magic to be dressed to the nines and going out with the most wonderful man in the world.
    Daryl had been a nice guy—stable and kind—and he’d adored her. But something had been missing. Something was always missing with other guys—the spark that got her hot and bothered and sent her out of control. Sex was usually…competent. Often good, but rarely great and never spectacular. She knew what brought her to orgasm and she wasn’t shy about asking for it. But just once she wished a man would know intuitively.
    Just once she wanted fireworks, rockets going off, a moon launch in her bed.
    Gazing into the mirror, she mentally stripped away Scott’s suit. It almost felt indecent to do that to a friend but she couldn’t help it. Her imagination filled in the gaps in her knowledge. Broad shoulders, sculpted chest and abs, long and muscular legs. For a guy who spent so much time in front of a computer or a microscope, he had a great body. Besides his mountain biking, he kept fit by working out. His apartment was equipped with a gym and so was his workplace.
    What kind of woman turned him on? She’d met a few of his girlfriends, but they never lasted long enough for her to get to know them well. Mostly, they came from his mountain bike crowd—tough, athletic women with muscled bodies.
    Unlike her. She was round and soft and could stand to lose five pounds. Or ten. She should start using his home gym while she was here. Her fingers made a cautious exploration of his waist under the guise of renewing her grip. Beneath his shirt, she could feel nothing but hard muscle and bone.
    “Cut it out,” he said, squirming. “You know I’m ticklish.”
    She yanked her hand away and took a step back to press the elevator button. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was groping him. “We should go.”
    He straightened his jacket. “Do you think we need to practice kissing?”
    “Oh, God no.” If she kissed him, she didn’t know if she could hide her feelings. And she didn’t want those feelings to become a problem. Scott was a man on a mission. He’d be horrified if he knew what she was thinking right now, that she’d love to blow off the cocktail party and spend the evening in bed together.
    Forget her dream of fireworks, even supposing her fantasies about Scott came true. Their friendship had survived intact for twenty years. She wasn’t going to do anything stupid to screw that up.
    …
    Scott felt slightly queasy as he stepped into the lounge of the luxury hotel with Cassy on his arm. Around two hundred people were gathered among the potted palms below the three-story atrium. Maybe two hundred and fifty. It wasn’t that he didn’t like people, but crowds gave him hives. The noise had a lot to do with it. Give him the peace of the forest, the quiet click of computer keys, or the genial laughter of a few close friends any day.
    He seemed to be the