No More Mr. Nice Guy Read Free Page A

your brother-in-law-to-be?”
    “Did you like Stéphane?” she countered.
    Alan answered thoughtfully, “Well enough. He’s obviously intelligent, successful at what he does, sure of what he wants. I suppose I respect any man who marches to the beat of his own drummer.”
    Carroll turned her head. “Maybe he marches a bit too fast? Alan, do you think he’ll be faithful to my sister?”
    Alan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at the question. “Is that what you’ve been worried about? That he won’t make her happy?”
    “He’s a good-looking man. Maybe too good-looking. Used to a lot of bright lights and glitter, traveling around the world…”
    “Your sister isn’t exactly a stay-at-home type herself.”
    “No,” Carroll agreed absently. Nancy liked excitement, and if there wasn’t any readily available, she was good at creating it. So unlike Carroll, who had always found excitement in a fire on a snowy evening, who got high on a simple breeze on a spring day, who felt utter exhilaration in a storm. Carroll made no apologies about who she was, but comparing herself to her sister was like comparing violets to orchids.
    Alan pulled into the parking lot of her apartment house, and turned off the engine. “Still thinking about the two of them?”
    “No, not really.” She sighed. “Pay no attention to me, would you? I seem to be in the silliest mood. Believe me, it’ll go away with a good night’s sleep.”
    She stepped out of the car, and shivered. The black streets still shone wetly from the rain, and the night had turned bitter. Alan lifted an arm and tucked her into the warmth of his shoulder. Held close, she felt her restlessness almost disappear. Being held by Alan, touched by Alan, was to be cocooned in safety and warmth, safe from all the bitter winds.
    When he paused at the front door, she lifted her face for the kiss she knew was coming. His lips came down gently on hers, wooing, cajoling. His taste was familiar by now. Alan’s kisses were good; they were always good. His smooth-shaven cheek, the shape of his mouth, the softest swirl of his tongue inside her parted lips…she loved being kissed by Alan.
    When he raised his head, his eyes shone down on her like stars on a midnight lake. She saw the question in them. It wasn’t a question for tonight; it was late and both faced a normal busy workday in the morning. Still, the faintest trace of impatience was there on her features. He’d made it increasingly clear he wanted to spend his life with her. How long was she going to make him wait before inviting an intimate relationship between them?
    She didn’t know. She didn’t know, couldn’t think, and was tired of trying. Instead of pulling back as he undoubtedly expected, she laid her cheek on his shoulder and nuzzled closer for just a minute more, needing something she couldn’t name.
    “Caro?” His fingers sifted soothingly in her hair. His warm breath fanned her temples.
    “I love you,” she said fiercely. “Kiss me, Alan. Please. Just…”
    “Sweetheart, tell me what’s wrong.”
    “Nothing. Just…”
    There. His palms framed her face, and his mouth claimed hers with a sudden force that was distinctly un-Alan. She wrapped her arms around his neck, closed her eyes and willed a little of the magic she so desperately wanted to be there.
    In a moment, she didn’t have to will the magic. It was simply there. Alan, always so careful with her, always so patient, always so honorable in courting her, turned thief. Impatient, frustrated thief. Heavens, who would have guessed it?
    Her head reeled back from the pressure of his mouth. His tongue stole between her lips and dipped inside. That same tongue that had always invited the gentle swirl of tastes now possessively claimed the sweet corners of her mouth with dizzying speed. Her coat buttons flew open; he hadn’t asked permission. Neither the cold wind that whipped all around them nor the dark night was as shocking as the feel of Alan’s