Abandon The Night Read Online Free PDF Page A

wicked, wicked smile on her well-kissed lips. Naked.
    “Zoë,” he said, not caring if he sounded desperate. He was. Oh, bloody fucking hell, he was desperate…so desperate he thought about begging. Bloody Quent Brummell Fielding, begging for a woman.
    “Well, shit, if you’d take off your damned clothes, I might be convinced to stick around,” she said. “They’re cold as hell and sticky too.”
    Quent let out his breath in a gust of humor as he realized that, indeed, he was still fully clothed except for the raging hard-on thrusting from his open fly. He tore off his shirt and peeled the bloody jeans off, and when he’d slapped them to the floor in a damp pile, he looked up.
    She moved toward him, pushing him back onto the bed, none too gently. The next thing he knew, Zoë had settled over his hips, her hands flat and warm over his chest, and lowered herself down.
Oh God…God…
    He squeezed his eyes shut, clamped his hands on her to keep the bloody damned minx from moving before he could regain control. Her deep, low laugh teased him like a smoky whip and he opened his eyes to meet hers, to read the same lust blazing there.
    She tightened around him, he groaned as the pounding surged harder, almost lost it, and brought himself back.
    And…
no.
In this way, he would be in control. With a swift move, he flipped her onto her back. Zoë half laughed, half gasped in surprise and delight as he took over, as he wasted no time before he brought them into the long, sleek rhythm.
    The ride turned frantic, and Quent lost all sense of details but for the soft gasps and sighs, the slide of leg, the scrape of nails, soft lips, the rising, gathering pleasure, and everything became slick and hot and pounded through him, barreling to the edge…and over.
    At the last second, he remembered, somehow, and twisted away with a deep grunt of release and effort…blinding pleasure trammeling through him as he reached what he needed. And held on as he slipped into the hard-won ease of sleep.
    10 June 2010
    6:00 A.M
.
    Devi is up and making coffee while I log in to check email so that he doesn’t notice. He’ll scold me if he knows, for we are on holiday. Three more days, and I’m back at the office to revise another design for the die shop. But for now, Dev and I have our first holiday since our honeymoon, and we are enjoying every moment of it. Even though we haven’t left home and there is much work to do, it’s nice to have a break from the rigors of the office.
    10:00 A.M
.
    Something odd is happening. There are reports of very strong earthquakes in Phoenix, LA, Dallas and Vegas, Denver, St. Louis…everywhere. And at the same time, dark gray clouds are rolling in here. Looks like a nasty storm coming. I find it very disconcerting and a little bit creepy that it should come on the heels of massive earthquakes. Devi and I are surfing the Net on our laptops, looking for updates.
    Noon
    The ground is trembling here, in southern Nevada. Are we having an earthquake here? The Internet is down. Cell phones are dead. TV too.
    Something very frightening is happening.
    —from the diary of Mangala Kapoor

CHAPTER 2
    “You did it again.”
    Quent opened his eyes. He had no idea how long it had been…had he slept for hours or minutes?…but he didn’t care. Zoë’s voice, husky from disuse, and, he hoped, pleasure, was always welcome.
    Because that meant she hadn’t slipped off into the night.
    The room was dark but for the glow of the small lamp he always left burning when he exited the place. The curtains were drawn tightly enough that he couldn’t tell if a seam of daylight might play around the edges or not.
    She lay next to him, propped up on one elbow, her breasts shifted slightly down toward the bed, tempting him with their perky nipples and smooth, feminine curves. Zoë and Quent weren’t touching, but he could feel the warmth of her body, and the slightest dip in the mattress from her insubstantial weight.
    “Right,” he