Between Duty and Desire Read Online Free PDF Page B

putting the wick of another candle against the lit one. It hit him that this was what some people did during wedding ceremonies. Alarm rushed through him. Now that was just too weird.
    “I’ll go get the flashlights now.”
    She returned with the flashlights and a battery-operated radio. “Good girl,” he said.
    “I may seem like an unprepared flake, but I’m not. We’d better finish eating before the food gets cold.”
    Finishing before she did, he messed with the radio and found an AM station where the deejay reportedmassive blackouts. The electric company warned that power might not return until morning.
    “Oh, goody,” she muttered. “I guess I won’t be working tonight.”
    “Do you have any cards?”
    “Somewhere. I haven’t played in a while.”
    “I thought you might like to try to beat me at James Bond Junior.”
    She gave a double take. “I always beat Rob at James Bond Junior.”
    “But can you beat me?”
    She lifted an eyebrow. “We’ll have to see.”
    He won the first two games and she was not at all happy. The way she fumed reminded him of a buzzing honey bee.
    “I demand a rematch. Those first two games were flukes.”
    “Flukes?” he echoed, enjoying taunting her just a little. “You’re just peeved because I’m beating the pants off of you.”
    “My pants are staying exactly where they are,” she retorted. “You’re the one who’s still not dressed. That’s your secret weapon.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “Your chest. It’s distracting. That’s why you’re winning. You play dirty.”
    He brushed her backhanded compliment aside, although he felt flattered as hell. “I wouldn’t call it dirty,” he said. “I just always play to win. You want to go again?”
    She met his gaze and he saw her bite her lip as she glanced at his chest then back to his face. Her expression was shockingly hungry and sexual. He immediately turned hard. He wanted to bring her small artist’s hand to his chest and feel her touch. He wanted to take that plump lip she was biting with his mouth and tongue. He wanted to slide his hands over the wonderland of her body and feel every inch of her skin against every inch of his. Then he wanted to sink himself so deep inside her—
    “Go again,” she said in a husky voice. “I’ll win this time.”
    The game began and he heard her breath and inhaled her scent. With every flip of the cards, he felt himself grow hotter. The image of her hair hanging around his face like a curtain, skimming over his bare skin, down his belly. He told himself to stop, but his body spurred his mind on. He wanted her small breasts in his mouth. He wanted to be inside her where it was warm and good.
    “James Bond Junior,” she said triumphantly. “I told you I would win.”
    “So you did,” he said.
    “What do you want to do now?”
    “Nothing, I ought to—” he muttered under his breath.
    “Pardon? I didn’t hear you.”
    “Nothing,” he said, moving his tight shoulders. It felt like his entire body was stretched tight. He suddenly felt her hand over his and his heart stopped.
    “Brock?”
    “Yeah?”
    “If I ask you a question, would you answer it with the truth?”
    His heart started beating again, way too fast. Her hand felt like a branding iron and he grit his teeth to keep from turning his palm over and pulling her to him. “What is this? Truth or dare now?”
    “Just truth. Why did you come to see me?”
    He sighed, conflicted. “Why do you ask?”
    “Because I want to know.”
    “He was afraid you would turn into a hermit if something happened to him.”
    She made a sound of disgust and jerked her hand away. “I haven’t become a hermit. I’ve been independent. I even moved to the beach. I always told him I’d wanted to live at the beach.”
    He raked his hand through his hair. If they were going down this road, then he was going to make her face the truth. “How many people have you met since you moved here?”
    “My landlord and