Cross My Heart (A Contemporary Romance Novel)

necessary. “Michael’s not cold.”
    Allison shot her a sidelong glance as she slid behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition. “She said he was amazing in bed but a little detached. Like he’s not really a passionate person.”
    Jenna felt a sudden rush of anger. “I don’t suppose it ever occurred to her that she might have been the problem? With the right woman, he—”
    She stopped and looked at Allison. “Wipe that grin off your face. You used to look exactly like that when we were kids and you thought you scored some big victory.”
    Allison kept smiling. “I just think you’re pretty protective of a guy you’re not interested in.”
    Protective? Was she being protective?
    Yes…and defensive, too. A sure sign that she was feeling vulnerable. That something had gotten under her skin.
    Jenna thought about that little tug on her belly ring, gentle and yet subtly possessive, that had sent desire stabbing through her. She remembered Michael’s hand on her bare stomach, spinning a thread of want that spiraled through her whole body.
    Detached? There had been nothing detached about it.
    “You’ll be seeing Denise at the fundraiser tonight, by the way. She’s one of the speakers.”
    Jenna shouldn’t have cared. But in spite of herself, she was curious. What kind of woman could think Michael was cold?
    She’d only known him for two days, and she’d seen the warmth in him.
    Not to mention the fact that he’d managed to raise her temperature several degrees. She thought of those dizzying moments on her patio and felt blood rush to her cheeks.
    To a woman who didn’t want to get attached, Dr. Michael Stone could be a dangerous man.
    But he definitely wasn’t cold.
     

 
    Chapter Four
    Michael was reading a medical journal in the living room, sitting by a window that gave him a perfect view of Jenna’s house. When he heard the sound of a truck pulling up next door, he looked up.
    Allison had parked under a street light and he could see the two sisters clearly, talking and laughing for a minute before Jenna got out and slammed the door behind her. She waved as Allison pulled away.
    She didn’t even glance at his house before going inside her own. He, on the other hand, had been sitting by this window for the past hour.
    He was acting like a jealous lover. And from the moment he’d left Jenna on the patio, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her.
    He kept replaying those last few minutes in his mind. The small of her back. The indentation of her spine, dipping down to her slender waist. The curve of her hips, and the glimpse of smooth, rounded flesh when she’d tugged her shorts down an inch or two.
    That had nearly killed him. Even now, hours later, his body hardened when he thought of it.
    Her tattoo was beautiful—musical notes dancing their way across her flawless skin. He’d touched her before he could stop himself, tracing over the elegant black marks, and she hadn’t pulled away.
    Then she’d turned over. The sight of the silver ring in her belly button had shot straight to his groin. He’d felt a rush of possessiveness, something primal and primitive that he’d never felt for another woman.
    He’d tugged on the little piece of metal before stroking her bare stomach, and her muscles had tightened beneath his fingers.
    He’d looked into her eyes, and what he saw stunned him. He hadn’t really believed that Jenna Landry could be attracted to him—not like he was to her.
    Then her sister had arrived, and he’d done the only thing he could do: gotten the hell away and prayed that neither woman had noticed the erection straining against his jeans.
    He took a cold shower, which calmed his body for all of five minutes. Until he looked out a window to see Jenna leaving her house in a flame-colored dress, her dark gypsy hair floating loose around her shoulders.
    She was going to the oncology wing fundraiser in that dress. He thought of the single men who’d be there, seeing her like that, and the possessiveness that had rocked him on her patio swept through him again, leaving him shaking.
    He got a grip on himself and went into his study, hoping to calm himself down by working on one of his current research projects.
    Compiling data had always been a soothing activity for him, but tonight he couldn’t stay focused. He sat back in his desk chair and dragged a hand through his hair.
    What he needed to do was apply logic to the problem. That would put his feelings into