A Million Kisses or More (3 page)

“Really?” he asked with a hint of disbelief. Pushing himself up so he was sitting against the headboard, teasing her with his corrugated abs, he said, “Not a lot of people know about them.”

“And that is unfortunate,” she breathed, trying to keep her eyes on his face and not the happy trail that disappeared beneath the sheets. “Because the world Mr. Fallen builds is absolutely incredible and I think everyone needs to read them. You have no idea how exciting it is to meet a fellow fan. After that cliffhanger in that last book, I have been eager to discuss what might happen next. God, I’m dying to read the next book.”

He nodded his head towards the bookshelf behind her and murmured, “There’s a copy on the bottom shelf if you want to borrow it.”

With a gasp, she flung herself out of the chair and practically flew to the bookshelves, wondering how she could have missed such a treasure. Kneeling, she found it where he said it would be only it didn’t have the usual Justice covers. Instead, it was just a plain cover that had the title:
Justice Kane #4.
Slowly, she looked over her shoulder at the man in the bed, her thoughts catching up to the evidence. Her mouth dropped open at the smile on his face. “Please don’t tell me that you are Harris Fallen.”

“It’s my pen name,” he said with a casual shrug. “I don’t usually meet a lot of readers and I have definitely never met one this way before.”

“I should hope not,” she said, her heart racing in her chest at the realization that she was talking to Harris Fallen, and he was just as gorgeous as his hero. Hugging the book to her chest, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside… because she was talking to her favorite author and not because he was practically naked, she tried to think about what to ask him first. But it was like someone just asked her what her favorite food was and she couldn’t remember a single thing she liked. Finally, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “You know, I’ve always wanted to know more about the character of Mercy.”

His brows drew together as he asked, “Mercy?”

She winced internally when she realized she should have asked him what was going to happen next in the world of Justice Kane instead of talking about an unimportant, throwaway character. At his continued look of confusion, she explained, “She’s a minor character who showed up towards the end of the second book and gave Justice an extremely rare, extremely vital relic. The way she looked at him…. I always thought there was something between them but she has never been heard from again.”

Absently, she stroked the book, anticipating the story that she had been dying to read for nearly ten months. But here was the author and she was so torn between wanting to pick his brain and diving right back into the world of Justice Kane. He still looked a little bewildered so she added, “Of course, I might have hoped for more because the way she is described, she could almost be my twin. Except for her weird eyes. What is she?”

“I’ll have to reread the book,” he grumbled in his sleep roughened voice, not answering her question.

With his messy hair and slight stubble, he looked incredibly sexy and she burst out, “Jeeze, I should have taken advantage of you while you were sleeping. Then I could have told everyone that I had had sex with the amazingly talented Harris Fallen… not that I go around and have sex with strangers. Or anyone really. And I definitely don’t go around bragging about it. But I would have slept with you.”

A slight scowl pulled his brows together as he swung his legs out of bed. “Actually, my name is Harrison. Harrison Miller. And sleeping with me isn’t really that big of a deal. I’m nowhere near famous enough for bragging rights.”

“I beg to differ,” she said, standing up and going over to the bed, briefly wondering where this strange and overly flirtatious Ana came from and glad that she finally decided to show up, even if she did blurt out completely inappropriate things on occasion. Sitting down next to him, she held up the treasured book and was about to tell him how amazing it was. She opened her mouth to do so but then she remembered the uniform he had been wearing and her mind tried to make sense of it. He was too gorgeous to be a cop, wasn’t he? Not that cops couldn’t be gorgeous, but still she asked, “Are you a stripper or something?”

He arched an eyebrow at that, looking devilishly handsome and making her realize how close she was sitting next to him and all of his warm body heat. He was warming up all of her internal parts so he had to be a stripper…. “No, I’m not a stripper.”

“Then what’s with the cop uniform?”

“I’m a cop,” he said with a wry twist of his lips. Her gaze dropped to the book and she was fairly certain she resembled a fish with her mouth gaping open. She just couldn’t believe the man who wrote such a dark anti-hero was on the right side of the law. He stiffened next to her and when she looked at him, he was scowling even more fiercely. “What? Do you think a caveman can’t write?”

She slowly blinked her eyes, trying to reconcile the fact that this gorgeous man was her favorite author and he was a cop and not a stripper. “What? No, not at all. I don’t think cops are cavemen and I certainly don’t think that
you’re
a caveman. I was just wondering when you find the time to write. I mean, these books are really dark and intricate and I’d think that you’d spend all of your time lost in this universe that you created. How can you concentrate on police work when it’s obvious your brain has a whole other universe in it?”

“I write when I wake up,” he said, looking down at her and making her world wobble off its orbit. Time slowed between one heartbeat and the next and she wanted to know everything there was to know about this man, and strangely it had very little to do with the fact that he was her favorite author. She had never had such a visceral reaction to anyone and it scared her as much as it thrilled her. And then his words registered and she leapt off the bed when she realized she was keeping him from his writing. He grabbed her wrist and kept her from bolting. Holding her in place, he stood up and said, “Don’t worry about it. It usually takes me a few minutes to go through my routine and lately the Muses have been deathly silent.”

His words barely registered because the moment he touched her, it was as if the world shifted, gravity disappeared, and she was thrown into outer space. Licking her lips, she slowly extricated her hand from his clasp because she wasn’t foolish enough to fall in love with the exceedingly talented and handsome Harris Fallen. Harrison Miller, on the other hand, was full of possibilities. It might be foolish, especially since now was the worst possible time to get involved with anyone, but a little harmless flirtation never hurt anyone. “I should still get going. I have a book to read.”

He smiled down at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners letting her know that he was no frat boy but a fully grown man with a real job and a mortgage. Then she noticed them, the little crevices on either side of his lips, and her heart stuttered in her chest. Oh, god! He had dimples! Despite his youthful appearance, he had to be closer to thirty than twenty-five, another point in his favor. There was something about the fact that he was a few years older than her almost twenty-three that made her melt, which only added to the trouble she was going to get into with this man. “At least tell me your name.”

“My name?” Crap, why couldn’t she remember her name? Because all of that hard, male flesh was corrupting her thoughts. “Um, Ana. You should put a shirt on or something.”

Shaking his head, chuckling softly, he grabbed a t-shirt and pulled it on. She could only stare as his muscles flexed and shifted until his chest and stomach were finally covered. If she had been smart, she would have bitten her tongue and enjoyed the view while it lasted. After all, a guy this gorgeous, this intelligent, had to have a girlfriend or significant other or something. In his sleep-rough voice, he asked, “Is that better?”

“Not at all but it helps my brain work,” she muttered, taking a step away from all of that temptation. Hugging the book to her chest, taking another step away from him, she said, “And I really need to get going so you can write.”

He glanced at his wrist, which didn’t have a watch, and then looked at her with that pantie-melting smile. “You’re probably right.”

Surely that wasn’t disappointment that wrapped around her and weighed her down. “Oh. Okay.”

He chuckled as he put his hand at the small of her back and lead her out of his room. The hallway was covered with pictures of an absolutely adorable little girl who had Harrison’s melted chocolate brown eyes and his dimples. Pausing in front of one of the pictures, she asked, “Is this your daughter?”

“It is,” he answered and she could hear the pride in his voice in those two simple words. “She’s eight, almost nine, going on eighteen and she’s the world to me. Her name is Jolie.”

Her heart melted even more at that. Her favorite author was not only gorgeous and a cop, but a devoted father as well. If she wasn’t careful, her ovaries might explode from too much stimulus. “Does she live with her mother?”

“No, she lives with me,” he said, urging her to continue down the hall. “She’s at her grandparents’ house for the weekend but I’ll head out to pick her up in an hour or so.”

“So you really need to get back to work,” she said, looking around the house and seeing the evidence of his daughter in the toys and a child’s paintings. She had been too frozen to notice anything earlier but now it was obvious the house wasn’t a bachelor’s pad. The colors were warm and inviting and someone took a lot of time to decorate it so was child-friendly but still masculine. She doubted the previous owners paid so much attention to such details. “You know, I have spent a few weeks here nearly every summer since I was fourteen and I have never been in this house. The previous owners didn’t like little kids or anyone really and they made it very clear that I wasn’t to step foot in their yard. It’s really unfortunate because I always wanted to explore this place.”

“Now that I’m the owner and you’re a little older, you’re free to come over and explore any time,” he said. His eyes widened and color crept into his cheeks as he stammered, “Um, I’m sure Jolie would love to give you the grand tour. Why weren’t you here this past summer?”

“I had to take one last class so I could graduate on time,” she explained. “And it was just my luck that it was offered in summer. Otherwise I would have had to wait another semester and that would have sucked. To be honest, I haven’t been here since sophomore year.”

He went very still and she could have sworn she felt a door slam shut on whatever it was that was developing between them. Increasing his pace, he strode into the kitchen and grabbed a key off a hook and thrust it at her. “Just leave it in my mail box after you let yourself back into your house. That way it will be available when you lock yourself out again.”

“Oookay,” she murmured, taking the key and wondering what the hell had just happened. Plucking at the front of the shirt she had borrowed, she said, “Um, I’ll get these washed up and return them to you when I return the book.”

“There’s no rush,” he said, practically pushing her out the door. But she didn’t want to leave just yet.

Trying to think of something else to say, anything else, she looked around and came up blank when she saw his naked legs. They were probably the best pair of legs she had ever seen, well-muscled and with the perfect amount of black hair. His boxer briefs molded to his powerful thighs and she felt the heat start to course through her body. Licking her lips, she rasped, “Um, you forgot to put on some pants.”

His cheeks turned even brighter red as he ushered her through the door and then closed it in her face. Her mouth fell open in shock, wondering how he went from hot and charming to downright rude. If she didn’t know any better, she would have sworn he had been attracted to her, at least she would have sworn to it before he kicked her out of the house. Maybe the reminder of his daughter had him reconsidering starting something with her, which was just as well because she was only going to be there for a few months. Come December 27
^th
, she was driving out to California to start her internship at Madd Talent Agency. It would be the deepest pit of stupid to get involved with anyone, let alone the gorgeous conundrum that was Harris Fallen… Harrison Miller.

*****

His flirting skills were definitely rusty but he had felt her respond. In the back of his mind, Harrison considered the possibility of maybe asking her over for coffee or something but then she confessed to taking a class to graduate on time. Taking everything into account, he realized she had to be no more than eighteen or nineteen, the same age as his little sister and barely legal. Jesus Christ, Ana was just a kid. The guys down at the station would give him so much grief if he started something with a girl just out of high school, especially a girl that looked like Ana. Hell, his family would tease him mercilessly for even thinking about her and his cousin would make his life downright miserable and consider it payback.

Storming back to his office, he threw himself into the chair and turned on his computer. He doubted he’d get a lot of writing in since his head had been embarrassingly silent since he wrapped up book number four a few weeks before. The last book had been the hardest to write and he knew that there wasn’t a lot of Justice left in him. Needing to write, however, he struggled to figure out another story even though there had been nothing. He was starting to think he might never write again.

With Ana occupying too many of his thoughts, he tried to think of a new character to write about, someone not as tormented as Justice. Grabbing a copy of
Justice Unleashed
from the shelf behind him, he started paging through it to find the passage Ana was talking about. He found it on page 315, the name Mercy jumping out at him.

“Who are you?” Justice asked, holding the point of his sword at the base of her throat.

Unafraid, she held his eyes as she murmured, “I’m Mercy.”