Double the Heat Read Online Free PDF Page A

make a hasty entrance into her apartment. “I need to get a shower.”
    Before she could get the door shut, he stepped in behind her. “Fine. Don’t mind me. I’ll wait for you in the kitchen.” She was about to protest that when he added, “Hard as it’ll be, I promise to behave myself. I’ll even save you a donut or two, so take all the time you want.”
    Yeah, right. No way would she feel comfortable lingering naked in the shower while Hart Winston moseyed around her place unattended. “Stay in the kitchen,” she ordered.
    He crossed his heart and grinned like the rascal she knew him to be.
    Rather than waste more time debating it with him, Lisa went into her bedroom, gathered a change of clothes, and ducked into the bathroom. When the lock on the door gave a loud click, she heard Hart laugh.
    Her reflection in the mirror was the stuff of nightmares. Sweaty, lank hair that had escaped her ponytail stuck to her neck and temples. Exertion turned her complexion ruddy. Heat had left her soft T-shirt limp and shapeless. She looked like a hag.
    So why had Hart acted so turned on?
    Lisa answered her own question—because the man was always ready, no matter what.
    The sooner she answered his questions, the sooner she could get him out of her life again. Much as that thought dismayed her, she knew it was the wisest choice.
    In record time, Lisa showered, washed her hair, and brushed her teeth. Dressing in her favorite pair of stay-at-home faded jeans and a beige tank top, she girded herself with a pep talk. After combing out her wet hair and leaving it loose, she put her glasses back on and was ready to rejoin Hart. Not more than fifteen minutes had passed.
    The second she came into the hall, he left his seat. For an extended moment in time, he just stared at her, from her bare feet to her snug, comfy jeans, to her beige tank.
    Lisa lifted her chin, almost daring him to comment.
    Instead, he cleared his throat and held out a chair for her at the kitchen table.
    She shook her head. No way was she getting that close to him. Not yet. Not with that particular gleam in his eyes.
    Sounding a little hoarse, Hart asked, “How do you like your coffee?”
    “In someone else’s mug.” She’d never quite gotten the taste for coffee. She preferred tea.
    “That’s what I thought, so I put the teakettle on to boil.” He no sooner announced that than the kettle began to whistle. “Where do you keep your tea?”
    That he offered to wait on her took her by surprise. “Sit down, Hart. I’ll take care of it.”
    “But this is my treat—my way of apologizing.”
    “Not necessary.” But it was still nice that he went to so much trouble.
    Did he really feel that bad about sneaking out the proverbial morning after, or was this more about him wanting her cooperation in sharing the details of what she’d overheard?
    He didn’t go to the table, choosing instead to prop his big body against the counter. Lisa inched around him to reach for a cup from the cabinet and then found a tea bag in the canister beside the stove. As she poured boiling water in the cup, she glanced at Hart.
    The man had the most tactile gaze imaginable. She felt his attention, and it unnerved her.
    “You have a good time last night?”
    “Hmmm?” She stirred her tea to buy herself some time.
    “Last night. Your big date?” He studied her. “Things go as planned?”
    “I didn’t have a plan.” Not after Hart had dropped in on her.
    “You were going to jump his bones, remember?” His brows came down in consternation, and he sidled closer. Softly, as if in commiseration, he asked, “Didn’t quite work out, huh?”
    Of all the . . . “None of your business.”
    Scrutinizing her, he drew his own conclusion and let out a relieved breath. “Right you are.” He gestured toward the table. “Let’s take a seat and chat.”
    Since that served her purpose, Lisa didn’t argue. “Fine, let’s.”
    He held out her chair first, then seated himself,