Killing Time by Linda Howard

Author:Linda Howard [Howard, Linda]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Tags: Fiction, Suspense
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2005-06-14T04:00:00+00:00

17

Knox got up at his usual time and heated two cups of the leftover coffee in the microwave. Reheated coffee never tasted quite right, but he couldn’t see the point in letting coffee go to waste just because it had been cold for a few hours. Thank God Nikita drank her coffee black, so he didn’t have to worry about how much of what to put in it. Right off the bat he couldn’t find the single tray he knew he had, so he improvised and put the coffee cups on a baking sheet, then carried them both to her bedroom. As a peace offering, warmed-over coffee wasn’t much, but it was the best he had.

He deliberately wasn’t wearing a shirt, not to show off his manly physique, but because in his own experience the best way to get a woman to touch him was to take off his shirt. Pheromones, he guessed. For whatever reason, it worked, and he needed her to touch him. Physical contact would help bridge the gap between them, pull her closer to him.

He knew he was invading her privacy in a big way, but that didn’t stop him from knocking once, then twisting the doorknob and walking in.

Startled awake, Nikita sat up in bed. “What’s wrong?” she asked urgently, pushing her tousled hair out of her face.

Knox’s heart nearly stopped, and the baking sheet wobbled in his hand. The flesh-colored gown she was wearing was like some sort of fluid, pouring gently over her torso. It wasn’t tight, and he couldn’t see through it, but he almost didn’t need to, so faithfully did it follow every curve, every outline.

He swallowed, and managed a halfway normal tone. “I brought you a cup of coffee. I figured you might need it to jump-start you this morning.”

“Jump-start?” she asked, confusion wrinkling her brow.

He suppressed a grin. She probably wouldn’t like it if she knew how much he enjoyed her verbal miscues caused by her too-literal application of the language. “Jump-start means use an external source of energy to get you started. It’s a car term.” He took the tray over and set it down on the bedside table, then took a seat himself, settling beside her hip. He picked up both cups and extended one to her.

“Oh.” She accepted the cup. “Thank you.” She took a cautious sip of the steaming liquid, then made a face. “This doesn’t taste like it did last night. What did you do to it?” She glanced at his chest, then looked away.

“Nuked it.” He sipped his own coffee, glad for the hot liquid even if it wasn’t the best in the world.

Appalled, she stared at her cup, and he had to laugh. “It’s the same coffee from last night; I just reheated it in the microwave. It isn’t really radioactive,” he reassured her.

She took another sip, then said, “I would advise you to pour out the old coffee and make a fresh supply.”

He chuckled. “It’s hot, and it’s caffeine. That’s all I need.

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