Rekindled Read Online Free PDF Page A

hair with infinite gentleness.
    “I know that,” he whispered. His eyes held the same tenderness they had on that night, when he had first introduced her to the art of love. Then, the world had been hers on a string. It certainly wasn’t now, still her heart pounded in her chest the very same way. Now, as then, she was being held by the most appealing man she had ever known. He was a leader, a freethinker. He was boldly gentle, gently bold. He had confidence without arrogance, success without acclaim. He was a man who didn’t mince words. She felt an instinctive respect for him.
    Much of this same appeal had beckoned to her on that night. Other details might be forgotten, but not Ross and the force that bound them. It was an unfathomable force, but frightfully powerful. Eleven years ago, it had driven the fact of her innocence from her mind. Now it obliterated all remembrance of what had happened so soon after that night to irrevocably change Chloe’s life and outlook.
    As Ross’s large hands framed her face, she felt a special warmth steal through her, awakening senses from hibernation like the coming of spring. Her cheeks flushed with the heat. Her lips parted. She was entranced all over again.
    He moved closer, his face lowering. When she closed her eyes it was to savor the feather touch of his mouth on hers. It seemed she had waited forever to know its sweetness again. And guilt? Guilt was light-years away, beyond a far horizon she hoped never to reach. It had been pervasive over the years, but was out of place now. She wanted more of Ross, if only to keep the past safely blotted from her mind.
    Opening her eyes, she found Ross’s hot above her. His breath was unsteady, but he waited. She sensed he was giving her a chance to turn and run, but that was the last thing she wanted to do.
    She met his kiss with an eagerness she hadn’t known for eleven years. All the power of her femininity that had been stored up and denied now burst forth. Ross’s lips were firm and knowing in response to her passion, dominating then submitting, teasing then yielding. They explored the ripe curve of her mouth with a thoroughness surpassed only when his tongue entered the act. And Chloe opened herself more with each darting flicker, with each exchange of breath.
    She had come alive and was aflame. At some point her arms found his neck and coiled beyond, drawing her slender body firmly against his longer, harder one. His hands played over her back, caressing every inch from hip to neck with the devastating touch of those long fingers. And she was caught in the web they spun, neither able nor willing to move away.
    Everything about Ross was utterly male, from the musky scent of his skin to the trim tapering of the hair at the top of his collar, to the lean line of his torso and the corded steel of his thighs. It was as though Chloe was innocent again, as though this was that first ecstatic night relived. She was intoxicated.
    When he groaned and crushed her to him, she understood the feeling. It was a statement of a shared primal need. Ross held something for her that no other man had begun to offer. She was driven by instinct closer, closer to him.
    At some point, soft bells of warning sounded. She didn’t know if it was when his hand slipped from her cheek to her throat, or when his fingers began to knead her breast, or when his palm turned to her nipple. She only knew of a tug between some relic of the past that clamored for recognition, and the quickly coiling knot of need deep inside.
    She fought that past by nurturing the need. Hands locked at the back of his neck, she closed her eyes, let her head fall back, and sought the mindlessness of sensual pleasure. Her lips parted; her breathing was short. But she needed more. Against her better judgment, against those tiny warning bells, she grew bolder. Bowing her head, bracing it against his chin, she was curved now, offering him an entrance he hadn’t had before.
    Small explosions