Playing for Love at Deep Haven Read Online Free PDF Page B

here,”
he said, his dark, stormy-sky eyes searching hers, one hand clutching the
headrest of her seat, his elongated, graffitied arm
tense and hard by her cheek. It threw off heat, and she concealed a shudder by
shifting in her seat. “Offer to share the house stands, Vile.”
    She hadn’t seen
anyone this sexy, this close up, in years. Her mouth went dry, and the muscles
between her legs clenched, begging her to reconsider.
    “I won’t be
back,” she whispered, tearing her gaze from him.
    “Whatever you
say,” he said. Then he turned away and sauntered into the house. She slammed the
door and turned the key, unable to keep her brain from processing the fact that
his ass in retreat was a thing of profound beauty in her headlights. She shook
her head and looked down at her hands, white-knuckled on the steering wheel,
and swallowed the lump in her throat.
    I say . . . not again . Never again.
    She pulled out of
Deep Haven’s driveway and drove back through the black woods toward town.
    ***
      Violet Smith. Vile. Violet-like-the-flower.
    The girl. The only girl. Ever.
    He clenched his
jaw until it ached as her taillights disappeared into the woods.
    Damn it, Zach. You’re just going to let her drive
away? Idiot! Do something!
    He stood
motionless on the front steps of the house, like his feet were planted in
cement. His brain, which told him to leave her alone and let her go, was at war
with his body, which had finally processed the shock of her appearance and
amped itself into highly aroused territory, hot and incredibly fucking bothered
to be near her again. His heart, just about numb from the shock of being face-to-face
with her after almost a decade, was finally calming down enough to recognize
that he’d let Violet Smith slip through his fingers. Again.
    “Fuck!” he shouted,
running his hands through his hair so roughly, the black rubber band in the
back snapped and fell to the ground.
    He’d barely
gotten over the shock of who she was before she was speeding back down the
driveway. How was he supposed to recognize her, anyway? Never mind that she sounded like a totally different person,
she also looked like a totally
different person. She’d probably lost about thirty pounds, and her hair was
straight and boring, dyed back to its natural dark brown. He probably should
have known her from her eyes, but without her glasses and wearing those
expensive, preppy clothes? She didn’t look a thing like the Violet he used to
know. She looked like a snobby, high-maintenance,
suburban priss —the kind of girl who crossed to the
other side of the street when Zach approached, the type of girl who would
barely give him a second glance unless she was slumming.
    Until he’d
looked closer.
    Her dark eyes
were as luminous as ever, and her long, black lashes still framed them so damn
beautifully, it took his breath away. Her lips were as red and bowed as he
remembered them, but College Violet wouldn’t have worn the glossy lip gunk Greenwich
Violet was wearing. Not that he minded, since it was sexy as hell. He swiped
his thumb over his lips thoughtfully, trying to find the imprint of her lips
beneath his. But he was too agitated to pull any meaningful memories from the
depths of his mind. Not to mention, a whole lot of anonymous lips had touched
his since hers.
    When the red
lights of her car were finally out of sight, he turned and stalked into the
house. He felt around in the kitchen drawers until he found a flashlight, then
opened the door to the basement and reset the main circuit. One flip and the
house was powered up again.
    Back upstairs,
he glanced out the front windows, hoping to see her car pulling back into the now-illuminated
driveway, but saw only his rented SUV.
    Zach pulled out
a tumbler, poured himself a glass of Scotch, and headed into the living room to
make a fire. One thought kept him from chasing after her: he was pretty sure
there was nowhere to stay within a fifteen-mile radius.
    If you luck out,