A Night of Southern Comfort by Robin Covington Page A

Her voice was a hoarse whisper that curled around his gut in a tight clench. “I wasn’t looking for a man at all. That changed when I saw you. I picked you because I couldn’t not pick you.”
    At her words, his entire focus shifted to include only her. Kayla’s expression was defiant, daring him to refute what she’d said. He couldn’t. He couldn’t even speak, much less argue. Frankly, he didn’t know if he wanted to. The thought that someone like Kayla might actually want him scared the hell out of him.
    His mom approached the table and “tsked” at the untouched pie on his plate. “Y’all want anything else?”
    Never breaking eye contact with Kayla, Jack closed the distance necessary to cover her long, delicate fingers with his own.
    “Dr. Roarke will take the pie.” He briefly calculated just how dumb his idea was, but with all of his blood flowing to his crotch, he couldn’t count that high. “To go.”

Chapter Four
     
    Michaela shivered in the crisp air of twilight in early spring. The chill was in sharp contrast to the fire burning where Jackson grasped her hand.
    This was crazy. She was a fool to blurt out that confession, especially when it didn’t change a damn thing. Her skin tingled with a rush of blood, her arousal bringing Jackson into sharp focus, shifting the bustle of Main Street into the background. The sounds of the crickets and the aroma of early blooming flowers created a cocoon built for two. Needing to move, Michaela let go of his hand, turned onto the sidewalk, and headed toward home.
    Jackson followed her.
    To fill the silence, she said the first thing that came to mind. “I’m sorry.”
    “For what?”
    “I…I’m sorry for upsetting you.”
    “You didn’t upset—” With a deep breath, he spoke in what she now recognized as his usual, abrupt manner. “You just can’t say things like that.”
    She knew that. Whatever attraction brewing between them was a nonstarter. She couldn’t have a man in her life with the governor looming in the shadows and her future uncertain. If she had to leave, it would be easier if she didn’t have to leave someone behind. But if any man could tempt her, it was Jackson.
    Jackson curled his arm around her waist, the action a contradiction to the words he murmured in her ear. “I’m not staying here, so we shouldn’t start what we can’t finish. One night was one night…”
    She picked up his train of thought, “…but this would be two.”
    “Yeah.”
    “I’m not looking for a relationship right now,” she said.
    “And I never will be.”
    He stepped away from her, a chill replacing the sweet warmth of his body pressed up against hers. What was that ache in her belly? Disappointment? He’d just laid all of his cards on the table and she could play by his rules if she wanted. But she was beginning to think this game was too high-stakes for her heart.
    Their bodies brushed against each other too often to be accidental and the silence between them remained sexually charged as they turned onto the lane where she rented a carriage house from Crystal. The lane was lit by streetlamps, but her little driveway was bathed in shadow, broken only by the moonlight slanting through the trees. The smell of roses and the neighbor’s fresh-cut grass mingled with Jackson’s warm male scent and hinted at the spell warm Southern nights and a porch swing could cast over a pair of lovers.
    As they approached the front door, memories of standing in front of his hotel room flooded back. Was that only a month ago? Jackson laid his hand on her shoulder, halting her movements as well as her heart. Without thought, she turned to face him. The hot bulk of his body pressed against her from shoulder to thigh and anchored her against the cool wood of her door. Michaela shivered at the touch of his palm on the bare skin of her shoulder.
    “Kayla.”
    God, she loved that . The sound of his voice, rough and low, warmed her down to her marrow, the intimacy of