Linda Conrad - Slow Dancing With a Texan

“I’m not sleeping with you,” she huffed. “Not in anything.”

“Suit yourself.” He undid his belt, pulled it through the loops and hung it over the metal rod. “Mind if I turn on the TV, then? I sleep better with a little noise.”

“You can honestly think of sleeping at a time like this?”

“I’m tired. You’d be smart to try catching a few zees yourself.” His voice was edgy and not at all as sexy as it had been earlier. “You’ve got a big day tomorrow,” he continued as he flipped on the set and sat back down on his side of the bed.

She folded her arms over her chest and prepared to tell him exactly what she expected of him tomorrow. But for a second she was distracted by the local news and the eerie pictures of her office building with the front lobby windows blown out.

When she turned back to say something, he was already out cold. She couldn’t believe he’d become unconscious that fast. He’d better not snore.

Lainie got up and went to the bathroom, flipping off the overhead light on her way. When she was done, she left the bathroom door slightly ajar so the light in there could act as a nightlight.

She settled back down on her edge of the tiny bed and prayed the big lummox sleeping next to her didn’t roll around in his sleep. She’d hate to have to fight him off during the night. And there was no place else in the room for her to watch TV.

Frowning at the screen, where a late-night talk-show host was beginning his stand-up routine, she tried to ignore Sloan’s reclining body while she considered her options. The trouble was, she didn’t seem to have any options at all.

The longer she fumed over her predicament, the heavier her eyelids became. But she wasn’t going to lose control and fall asleep. No way. She intended to stay up, watching TV and keeping an eye on the very masculine body in her bed.

Sloan woke up with a cramp in his shoulder. He tried to move, but found himself wrapped up in long legs and soft female curves. Lainie’s head rested comfortably against his shoulder, and her peaceful expression in repose seemed a little too quiet, a little too angelic to suit him.

He took a breath and smelled woman, musty raincoat and a hint of soap. Her languid, slow breathing was intimate, familiar. Yet it was not at all like anything he’d ever shared with anyone.

He’d never slept all night with a woman before. The morning-after routine had always sounded too nerve-racking and embarrassing for his style. Why mess up a night of pleasure with the aggravation of trying to find a polite way out?

But there was just something about sleeping with Lainie that soothed him. Who would’ve guessed that an annoying yet lust-inspiring woman would be the one to make him feel all comfortable and homey?

Before he thought about it too much, Sloan brushed his hand over her sleep-tousled hair, pushing it back behind her ear. Deep-red silk. The satiny-soft feel of her seemed in stark contrast to the strong spirit and sexy brashness he knew she possessed.

His blood stirred and he had to remind himself that she was under his protection. She was quite a woman—a family-loving, advice-giving dream girl. And it was too damned bad that they hadn’t met at another time.

Speaking of time, Sloan glanced at his watch and realized that dawn was near. Time to check in with the captain and finalize plans to hide this erotic and baffling female.

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