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.She bit her lip hard at the thought, willing herself not to cry, a feeling reinforced when she heard a car in the front of the house.She would not allow Lynn or Laura or anyone else to see her grief.Resolutely, Celia climbed the ladder to begin the upper half of the painting.Footsteps crossed the porch.Heavy footsteps.Curious, Celia paused in her work to look over her shoulder.The ceilings were ten feet high, however, and all she could see was a pair of worn brown boots, the most common by far of all the shoes men in this town wore.But in spite of herself, she dropped the paintbrush.It fell all the way to the plastic tarp on the floor and landed with a splat, spraying pale pink paint in a little arc all around it.Just as it hit, the booted person rapped hard on the screen door.Celia jumped and cursed.She started to climb down, but the door opened.Eric stepped through.She froze for a moment, unprepared.His shirt hung unbuttoned around his chest and a shadow of unshaven beard darkened his strong jaw.He looked up at her a moment without saying a word, his vivid blue eyes shining with a light Celia had never seen in them before.Stung, dizzy with his presence and the roiling emotions it brought up, she said harshly, “What? Did you forget your guitar?”“No,” he said.“I forgot my woman.”Without her paintbrush, Celia had no prop, but she faked it.She brushed a lock of hair from her face with violently trembling fingers.“I don’t know who that might be, but this woman is staying right here.”He smiled, a slow, sexy, devastating smile.” So am I.”A flush of fury raced through her.She wanted to slap that sure smile from his face, kick him hard to hurt him, do something to even the score.Instead, she slammed her hand against the ladder.“Damn you!” she whispered.He sobered and she saw the flash of understanding in his eyes.So quickly that she had no defense, he crossed the room and pulled her down from the ladder, pulled her hard against his broad chest.“You want to beat me up, don’t you?”She punched his shoulder, trying to resist the opiate of his scent, that lush smell of hot nights and passion.He held her as she struggled, accepting the punch as his due.“Go ahead,” he murmured.“Hit me as hard as you can.I deserve it, Celia.I really do.I know it.I’m sorry.”But somehow, he was kissing her, his mouth tender and sweet and tasting of oranges.All the fight left her.She made a little cry against his mouth and suddenly there were hot tears flowing over her face, tears of release she couldn’t halt, tears she could taste on his mouth.“Oh, Celia, sugar, I’m sorry,” he said, and pulled her close, so close she could barely breathe.“I’m as dumb as a mule about things sometimes.” His hand stroked her hair, and Celia pressed her face into the shelf of his collarbone, breathing in his strength and tenderness.He lifted his head and she saw him swallow.“There were a lot of things I could get over,” he said in his rough voice.“You weren’t one of them.” He cupped her face in one broad, scarred palm.“I love you, sugar.”Celia closed her eyes.To her dismay, she was so dizzy she felt very close to a swoon.For one long moment, she let his words and his touch and his apologies sink in.Then with a breath, she stepped out of the circle of his arms.“I spent my whole childhood with people who were up one minute, down the next,” she said.“Brooding, stormy, creative people.” She licked her lips.“I love you, too, Eric, but I can’t face that kind of craziness for the rest of my life.”A glimmer lit his eyes in the dark face, giving them an almost neon hue.His lips curled into a seductive smile, and almost too casually, he settled his hands on his hips.Celia felt her breath catch on an instant, furious wave of desire.She stepped back with one foot.His grin widened and he looked for all the world like a picture on an album cover, like a movie clip, like every erotic promise ever made.“This isn’t fair,” she said.He stepped closer.Celia stepped back.“What’s not fair, Celia?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.His dark voice rumbled over her spine in a moonshine rush of heat.For an instant she realized what he must be like on stage, singing, all his charisma unleashed and turned toward the audience.Overwhelming.In a panic she turned away, covering her ears and closing her eyes.She had to think.When he grabbed her playfully from behind, Celia yelped.A rich, low chuckle sounded close to her ear.He kissed her neck.“All’s fair in love and war, sugar.” His big hands moved deliberately on her belly, circling.“And I told you I’ve got my own little area of expertise.Remember?”Celia shuddered.This was a side of him she’d rarely seen, the man who had fished on the banks of Jezebel and teased her in the attic and…He bent his head to her neck again, and helplessly, Celia turned in his arms.His eyes glimmered with humor, and the dark, hard planes of his face were gentle.“Kiss me like you do,” he whispered.“You had me from the very first time.”Celia lifted her face, but he did the kissing.It was a kiss like no other, slow and long and deep—like the blues.There was no trembling in his limbs now, no war he fought with himself—just a pure and direct focus on Celia’s mouth, and he played it with the same expertise he brought to the harmonica.His hands played her body, slipping here and there, sliding over heated centers now, tickling cool places into flames.He pressed her into his hips.“You drive me crazy, Celia,” he growled.“I want to be inside you day and night, and when I’m not, that’s what I’m thinking about [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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