Ghostwalker 06 - Predatory Game

up. “I was not the one who came strolling out of my bedroom wearing one of my shirts and nothing else when she came to visit.”
    His smile did something to her heart. “It wasn’t like that and you know it. You didn’t even mention having a sister, dragon king. How was I to know who she was? And you know very well why I was in your bedroom, wearing your shirt.”
    “Another one of your unfortunate accidents—a mud puddle, wasn’t it?”
    “Laugh about it.” Saber swept a hand through her wet hair, glaring at him. “You dropped me in the mud puddle on purpose. I know you did. I wasn’t about to go dripping up the stairs and into my bedroom.
    And I wasn’t going to stand around in filthy clothes.”
    “You decided all by yourself to pay me back by dirtying up my bedroom,” he pointed out. “And it wasn’t my idea for you to come out of my bedroom looking as sexy as hell when my nosy sister showed up. You did that all by yourself.”
    Saber stamped one bare foot in feigned outrage. “Hey now. I did not know she was here. You could have warned me.” Only Jesse had ever made her feel this way—joy, laughter, a sense of belonging. Fun.
    He created fun. “I was not about to stay dirty. You knew very well I had taken a shower and put on your shirt. I was being silly—it was a joke. I did not look sexy. I’m totally incapable of looking sexy.”
    Amusement softened the hard edge of his mouth. “Yeah? Who says? Believe me, honey, you looked sexy. I didn’t blame Patsy for jumping to the wrong conclusion.”
    “And you didn’t deny it when she did,” Saber accused, snuggling deeper into his robe, wishing it were his arms, wishing she dared press her mouth to his.
    “Neither did you. As I recall, you wound your arms around my neck and looked provocative.”
    Deliberately he provoked her, wanting the shadows gone from her eyes, wanting to see her laugh, the real thing, the one that she reserved for him alone.
    “Provocative?” Violet sparks were fairly shooting through her blue eyes.
    She looked young, tousled and very tempting, so small in his huge, thick terry cloth robe. If he reached out, he could catch the lapels of the robe and tug her close, bring his mouth to hers and just go up in flames.
    “Provocative,” he said decisively.
    “Now that is untrue and you know it, Jesse.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Provocative. What rot.
    And you pulled me onto your lap prior to my winding my arms around your neck. Which, incidentally, was a major mistake; it should have been my hands around your throat. I had no idea Patsy was your sister. I thought she was some ex-girlfriend you wanted to get rid of. I was merely obliging you.”
    “Ha!” he snorted inelegantly. “More like you thought she was a new one you wanted to get rid of.”
    Saber’s bare feet beat a little tattoo on the floor in total frustration. She looked around for something to Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    throw at his head, and settled for her damp towel. “You wish, caveman. Don’t flatter yourself. You are so arrogant, Jesse, it drives me crazy.”
    He reached out, captured her hand, and brought her fingers to the disturbing warmth of his mouth. “You love it, baby.” His thumb feathered over her knuckles, sending little darts of fire racing along her nerve endings. “You love arguing.”
    She jerked her hand away as if she’d been burned. Maybe she did, but she wasn’t admitting it. “One of these days someone is going to take you down a peg or two.”
    He shrugged his powerful shoulders, his smile mocking. “It won’t be you, angel face.”
    “Don’t count on it, dragon king. As it happens, my week to cook is coming up fast. I know at least seven recipes for tofu. Shape up or eat soybean.”
    Jess burst out laughing, the sound so infectious she found herself joining in.“Vengeful little brat, aren’t you?”
    “You know it.” Saber didn’t bother to deny the accusation. “I’m going upstairs.”
    “Is that an invitation?”
    “Stop leering, although I can tell you’re very experienced at it,” she retorted. “Good night.”
    He let her get to the bottom of the stairs. “Don’t keep me up all night with that mournful twanging garbage you refer to as music.”
    “Mournful twanging garbage?” Saber echoed, outraged. She raced up the stairs, his soft, goading laughter following on her bare heels.
    He didn’t like her usual country music, did