Deception of the Heart Read Online Free PDF

the cover slipped just enough to offer him a glimpse of a perfectly rounded, perky breast tipped with rose petal pink. She was still gorgeous, and he cursed his own stupidity. He’d gotten caught in her web of sexual allure with an ease that was almost offensive, all things considered.
    He hadn’t planned on going to the dinner, of course. It was a last moment decision, born mostly of boredom and the wish to escape the loneliness of the last evening before a project. He hated those last hours, his body already pumped with adrenaline while he had to wait, doing nothing, minutes dragging on like some kind of never-ending torture. He’d always been a man of action, eager to proceed and get results. Patience had been a learned virtue for him, and not an easy one to acquire. So in the end, he dragged himself to Bernard’s house, deciding that a few hours in his friend’s company offered enough distraction to make the wait more bearable.
    Daphne was there, waiting. The moment her green, catlike eyes spotted him enter ing the large, elegant living room, she was at his side, purposefully ignoring his rather lukewarm welcome. He hadn’t wanted to talk to her and looked for the first viable excuse to escape her presence without causing a scene. And she would cause a scene. Never one to worry about appearances, she’d embarrass not only him but mostly Bernard and his wife, which was unacceptable. So he behaved, enjoying the excellent dinner and the wine that flowed freely with the meal. Each additional glass took away some of his reservations, making the pressure of Daphne’s red-tipped fingers on his arm more and more welcome.
    She knew how to seduce a man , he thought as he lifted himself carefully from the bed, hoping not to wake her up. He had a massive headache. With barely a few minutes to gather his wits, any confrontation was out of question. He’d call her later, and they’d talk it out. His inborn sense of righteousness didn’t approve of sneaking out. She might not have been his favorite person, but he did sleep with her, which made him equally responsible for what happened. As such, he would have to deal with it, no matter how daunting that seemed.
    She ’d managed to convince him to drop her off at her place. They shared a cab. His head buzzed pleasantly as he sat there with her long nailed fingers scratching gently against the fabric of his jeans. He should have moved away, but he didn’t. His long suppressed sexual needs had finally resurfaced again in the worst possible moment. She kissed him, and he kissed her back, enjoying the texture of her soft, mobile mouth under his lips. She tasted great, and even the flood of memories from another, better time was unable to break the spell he found himself under. He wanted to savor the moment, regardless of the little voice of reason that kept warning him to stop and leave. He silenced it successfully as he paid the cab driver and walked her to her place, his hands impatient to peel off the light coat she wore over her emerald green dress. The moment the lock fell into place, they were all over each other, tearing off their clothes and kicking off their shoes, too impatient to take it slow. She led him to her bedroom, and they sank to her large, king size bed, their passionate lovemaking raw and hectic.
    He’d have to thank Bernard for that. He collected his clothes, his bare feet silent on the high pile cream carpet. How about, “Thanks for letting me have amazing sex with my ex-fiancée who dumped me six years ago for our building manager while I stayed in Iraq? Who wrote me a letter explaining that she’d gotten tired of waiting for me and preferred to start fresh.” He still had the letter somewhere, faded and frazzled. The two pages of her neat, schoolgirl-like writing lost the power to hurt him any longer. He kept it nevertheless, if only to remind himself that nothing in this world really lasted and perceptions were often misleading. He had to have it and