She moaned softly and stirred, but didn’t open her eyes. Ryan bit back a groan as images of her stirring just like that in his bed slammed through him. Visions of tangled sheets falling away from long, bare legs taunted him.
“Maggie,” he repeated with more urgency. “Time to go home.”
He said the latter to remind himself that home was where she belonged—her home, not his.
Another moan. Another stretch. And then a sigh as her eyes flickered open. A smile curved her lips. “Hi,” she said softly.
“Hey, sleepyhead.”
“I guess I fell asleep. What time is it?”
“After one. I need to get you home.”
She kept her gaze steady on him. “I could stay here. Save you the trip.”
Ryan stood up and backed away so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet. “Not a good idea.”
She seemed amused by his reaction. “Surely you have a sofa I could sleep on,” she said, her expression innocent. “Where do you live, by the way?”
“Upstairs.”
“Well then, that’s a whole lot handier than driving all the way to my place.”
“Maybe so, but something tells me I don’t want to tangle with your father and your brothers, who might find the idea of you staying at my place a little premature.”
She grinned. “Premature, not out of the question?”
“Maggie.” It came out as part protest, part plea.
“I just want things to be absolutely clear between us,” she said.
“And I’ll be happy to let you know when I have them figured out,” Ryan retorted.
“You’re assuming you’re the only one who gets to have a say,” she accused lightly. “Wrong, Devaney. I’m part of this equation.”
“Didn’t you tell me that your life is in a bit of a muddle right now?” he asked. “You don’t need to add to that by getting mixed up with me.”
She rose gracefully from the chair and crossed the room until she could reach up and place a hand against his cheek. Ryan felt that touch straight through to his toes.
“What if I want to get mixed up with you?” she asked.
“Why would you want that? I’m not an easy man to be with, Maggie. I don’t let people in. I like my privacy. I like the status quo.”
She laughed. “If that was supposed to scare me off, it missed the mark. You’ve just made the game more interesting.”
“Is that all it is to you, a game? Because if that’s it, maybe we have something to talk about after all. But if it’s more you’re after—” he captured her gaze and held it “—I’m the wrong man.”
Her gaze never faltered. “I suppose time will tell about that, won’t it?”
She stood on tiptoe and touched her lips to his, a quick brush of soft heat that invited more. Too much more.
Before Ryan could stop himself, he’d dragged her back for another kiss, this one deeper and more urgent. He was only dimly aware of the soft-as-satin texture of her mouth under his, of the faint taste of coffee and the heady scent of perfume. What truly captured his attention was the jolt to his system, the rush of blood and lick of fire that had him wanting more...needing more. Her body—soft and pliant—molded to his, as close as a second skin, as tempting and dangerous as anything he’d ever known.
He was on the brink of dragging her straight upstairs, not to his sofa but to his bed, when reason kicked in. Breathing hard, he backed away and dragged a shaky hand through his hair.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized.
“I’m not,” she said, sounding more triumphant than shaken. “I’ve been waiting my whole life for a kiss like that.”
Warning bells went off in Ryan’s head. “It was just a kiss,” he said, regarding her uneasily.
“That’s like saying the Revolutionary War was just a little disagreement over tea.”
Despite his wariness, the analogy amused him. “There was the Boston Tea Party,” he reminded her.
“Tip of the iceberg,” she countered. “It’s okay, though, if this was just a kiss for you. Maybe then you won’t mind doing it again.”
He heard the teasing note in her voice and decided to ignore the challenge. “Not tonight. Grab your coat and let’s get out of here.”
“Chicken,” she murmured as she passed him.
“Damn straight,” he replied without apology. Anything else and he’d be making the kind of decisions a man would only live to regret.
6
When Maggie finally crept into the house, it was nearly three in the morning. No sooner had she crossed the threshold into the kitchen, though, than the light was switched on. Maggie nearly jumped out of her skin.
“A little late, aren’t you?” Katie inquired, looking thoroughly pleased at having scared the daylights out of her big sister.
“What are you doing up?” Maggie asked irritably. “Come to think of it, what are you doing here? I thought you’d gone back to your own place.”
“Since my big sister’s visiting, I thought I’d spend some time at home,” Katie said. “Imagine my surprise when I arrived and found that no one was home. I waited for hours before Mom and Dad got here.”
Maggie thought of her parents’ delight at the prospect of going home to be alone. “I’m sure they were thrilled to find you here,” she said dryly.
Katie frowned. “Actually, they did seem a bit taken aback. What was that about?”
Maggie smothered a grin. “Just think about it, okay?” She glanced at Katie’s mug of hot chocolate. “Is there more of that?”
“There are packages in the cabinet. I zapped it in the microwave.” When Maggie shuddered, she added, “Dump enough marshmallows on the top and you can’t tell the difference.” She stood up. “Here, I’ll do it. You sit down and put your feet up. You look beat. What did you do tonight?”
“Mom and Dad didn’t tell you?”
“They made some cryptic remark about you being with Ryan.”
“That’s right. Actually, I helped out at the pub.”
Katie paused with the cup halfway into the microwave and stared. “I thought you swore you would never wait tables again after you worked out at the Cape that summer during college.”
“This was different.”
Katie grinned. “Because Ryan was there,” she guessed. “Ah, the things we do for love.”
“I’m not in love with him,” Maggie protested. She was fascinated, curious, in lust...but love? No way. She might believe in it, but she wanted to get the rest of her life in order first.
“Just halfway there?”
“Not even halfway,” Maggie insisted, though the memory of that bone-melting kiss they’d shared sent heat shimmering through her all over again. “He’s an attractive man and a decent, complicated guy. I want to get to know him.”
“In the carnal sense, I imagine,” Katie said slyly.
“Katie O’Brien, you shouldn’t say such things,” Maggie protested indignantly.
“Well, if you don’t, you’re crazy.” She handed Maggie the mug of nuked chocolate with four marshmallows