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Her eyelids were becoming heavy, weighted down by her growing need. It was all she could do not to grab his head and yank him down to her. Finally when she was ready to scream with frustration, his lips brushed hers and a shower of reaction drenched her. Goose bumps popped up on her arms, and shivers chased after them. To her massive disappointment Conal made no effort to deepen their kiss. Instead, he raised his head, staring down at her, his expression unreadable.

What was he thinking? Unease began to nudge aside the pleasure Livvy felt. Had he found their kiss a disappointment? Chagrin drove the last lingering shreds of desire from her mind. The thought that Conal might find her deficient in the area of lovemaking made her feel confused and uncertain. Her relationship with him to date might not have developed along the lines she’d wanted, but at least it had been fairly clear and uncomplicated. It hadn’t reduced her to this present dithering mass of uncertainty.

Livvy watched as Conal took her hand and gently pushed the ring over her finger. It was a perfect fit. An omen? All it signified was that the girlfriend that Conal had bought it for had the same size hands she did. She mentally chided herself. The idea that she was nothing more than one of an interchangeable line of women moving through his life infuriated her.

“Thanks,” she snapped, and turned to her suitcase, which was sitting open on the sofa.

Conal frowned slightly at her clipped tone, wondering if it was the ring she objected to or if the problem was with the man who had placed it on her finger. Or could it simply be that she was nervous about the coming weekend? He didn’t know. There was so much he didn’t know, he thought uneasily. Starting with how to act around her family. His experience with families was limited to visits to his married friends and what he’d seen on television. He wasn’t so naive as to believe that sitcom characters represented reality. At least he sure hoped not.

Concentrate on what you can do and don’t worry about what you can’t, Conal reminded himself of the motto he’d shaped his life around. He had finally managed to breach Livvy’s seemingly impenetrable professional shield. Or rather, her mother had breached it for him. But whatever the reason, he now had the opportunity to get to know Livvy on a personal basis.

Conal swallowed as his body clenched beneath the onslaught of images he had of just how personally he would like to get to know her. He wanted so much to take her in his arms again. To nuzzle the velvety skin of her cheek. To run his lips down over the soft flesh of her neck. To explore the precise texture of her breasts. To... He took a deep, steadying breath. For so long he’d felt starved for the taste and feel of her, but strangely enough, the brief kisses they’d shared had only made his hunger worse. Before, he’d only had his imaginings; now, he knew exactly what it felt like to have her in his arms and he wanted more. Lots more.

Conal totally lost his train of thought as Livvy bent over to close her suitcase and the well-worn jeans tightened over her hips. His eyes narrowed as he savored the sight. She had the most fantastic shape, slim and yet femininely rounded. The only way she could look any better would be if she were naked. He gulped as he felt sweat pop out on his forehead.

You’re in a bad way, Sutherland, he told himself. You need a woman. No, he corrected himself. He didn’t need a woman; he needed Livvy Farrell and he needed her very badly. He was getting damn sick and tired of spending hours every evening trying to work off his frustrations in the gym.

The snick of Livvy’s suitcase locking echoed loudly in the still apartment, cutting through his thoughts.

“Is that all you’re taking?” He gestured toward the case.

“That and five dozen bagels.”

Conal blinked. “Five dozen bagels?” he repeated. “What are you going to do with five dozen bagels?”

Livvy grinned at him. “At the risk of appearing obvious, I’m going to eat them. Or rather, my mother is going to serve them at the buffet dinner this evening. Mom swears that only a real New Yorker can make a proper bagel.”

“She’s right. You get the bagels, and I’ll bring the suitcase.”

Livvy grabbed the bagel sack off her kitchen counter, checked once more to make sure that everything was turned off and hurried after Conal who was carrying her heavy suitcase as if it weighted no more than a few pounds.

She stole a furtive glance at his upper arm. Just how strong was he? she wondered. He’d played professional football until two years ago when he’d retired and opened the ad agency. Football players were supposed to be very strong.

Maybe she would have a chance to explore the exact state of his musculature over the weekend. A shiver of anticipation danced over her skin. The possibilities seemed endless.

To Livvy’s surprise, Conal was a competent driver who showed an amazing patience for the idiosyncrasies of the other drivers on the road. Apparently he had escaped the macho speed syndrome that had infected so many of the men she’d dated over the years.

“Now where?” Conal asked her, once they had left the expressway in Scranton.

“Turn right at the light and go straight for a while.”

“Interesting place.” Conal glanced curiously at the old houses that lined the hilly streets. “Did you grow up here?”

“Uh-huh. My family has been in the Scranton area for a hundred and fifty years. Before that, they starved in Ireland.

“Turn right at the next light,” she said absently, as she tried to decide what she should tell him about her family. Should she warn him about potential conversation pitfalls like mentioning the health hazards of smoking to her great-uncle Harry, or politics to her aunt Rose, or tax audits to her grandfather, or the state of the public school system to her cousin Henry? It seemed kind of unfair to let Conal meet her family with the assumption that they were all rational adults who would respond to seemingly innocuous conversational gambits politely.

Livvy shifted in the rental car’s soft leather seat, feeling guilty at what she was letting Conal in for. He probably came from a nice, normal family whose members were all polite to guests no matter what the provocation. Not that she knew much about his family background. In fact... Livvy frowned as she searched her memory, she knew almost nothing about Conal’s background, period. Just that he’d played pro football and worked in the advertising business in the off-season until an injury to his knee had forced his retirement. That and the fact that he’d wanted to belong to a big family when he’d been a kid.

Her feeling of unease grew the more she thought about it. Why hadn’t Conal ever mentioned his family to her? Because he didn’t believe in mixing his work life with his personal life, and he didn’t foresee her, or really any woman, ever occupying a meaningful niche in his personal life? Strangely enough, the thought made her feel slightly more optimistic. Conal had absolutely no idea that she harbored long-range plans where he was concerned. No idea that she wanted a whole lot more than just a weekend from him. And since he didn’t know he wouldn’t be on guard. If she were lucky, she might be able to slip underneath his defenses before he realized what had happened. If she were very lucky, she might also find out why he seemed to have ruled out a wife and children for himself.

She glanced sideways at Conal, her eyes lingering on the strong line of his square-cut jaw. Slipping under Conal would be a distinct pleasure. Livvy shifted restlessly as the memory of his lips pressing against hers sent a burning sensation over her nerve endings.

Even though she didn’t begin to understand it, kissing Conal was far more than she’d ever believed a simple kiss could be. Far more than her previous experiences would have led her to believe was possible. Which made her wonder what making love to him would be like. Her breathing developed an uneven cadence.

7
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