Wedding at Willow Lake Read Online Free PDF Page A

hand and then, satisfied with the outcome, placed it over his growling belly. He wasn’t sure if the churning was caused by hunger or the rampage of need she’d awakened with her touch. His next words held double meaning. “I’m starving.”
    “In that case, you’re cleared for lunch.”
    “Finally.” He stood and backed away before he said something he’d regret. He was starving, all right, but not in the way she imagined. Dangerous ground. Time to divert and switch gears. Warning lights in his brain signaled impending danger—the train was about to fly off the tracks. He reached for the carafe. “More coffee?” His voice was gruff with need.
    “Please.”
    “Anything else?”
    “Such as…?” The question hung between them like a flash-fire of heat.
    “You name it.” Brody slashed the silence as he gripped his wounded finger, now throbbing in unison with the quick, steady clip of his heart. He squeezed his eyes shut and massaged his forehead as the room swam. He felt like someone had just ripped the floor from beneath his feet. “Never mind. I must be delirious.”
    “Are you OK?” Her soft scent teased his senses as she crossed the room to close the distance between them, her voice suddenly full of concern. “I didn’t hurt you too much, did I? Your face is flushed. How long ago did you cut yourself?”
    “I’m fine, Cate.” He rubbed the scruff of his chin, and then winced as the wound made contact with stubble. His disorientation had nothing to do with his finger and everything to do with her. He felt as if the earth had shifted on its axis. Coffee sloshed over the carafe as he bobbled it and dropped it back onto the burner. “Call off the dogs.”
    “Let me take another look.” Catherine eased in closer, her shoulder brushing his. Her perfume was a powerful elixir.
    “Don’t.” His chest constricted painfully. He could hardly draw a breath. Perhaps he was having a heart attack, and she’d have to scrape him off the floor before it was all said and done. Now that would be something. “Don’t touch me.”
    “Maybe you have a fever.”
    “I’m warning you.” A thread of panic rose as his resolve weakened. His breath came in short, painful gasps. “Don’t come any closer, Cate.”
    “Brody, you’re being silly. Stop backing away.” Catherine closed the distance that remained between them. She lifted her hand and pressed a cool palm to his forehead. “Are you hurting?”
    “Oh, I’m hurting.” Something inside him snapped, and Brody gritted his teeth as clarity came. He took her by the hands, pulling her toward him so they were merely inches apart. The office was suddenly an inferno. “But not the way you think.”
    “Brody…” Her breath was warm on his face. “Please.”
    “Say it again…my name.” Every nerve ending hissed, each synapse crackled. His chest might very-well explode if this continued, yet he couldn’t make himself stop. Not until he had some answers and spoke his piece.
    “Brody, we shouldn’t—”
    “Hush and listen. It’s my turn now to have my say.” He slipped his fingers through her hair, stroking the silky mass as his gaze captured hers and held tight. He waited a moment, two, for the room to stop spinning. “I never quit loving you, Catherine. All this time…all the distance. I’ve never, not for even the slightest moment, quit loving you.”
     
    ****
     
    The force of his words stole Catherine’s breath. The room closed in, and the aroma of coffee mingled with roast beef as his pulse throbbed against her wrist. She was aware of his breathing, fast and shallow to match hers while his scent, clean and purely masculine, covered her like a fine mist. Sunlight spilled through the picture window, turning the room to a sauna.
    She found her voice. “You can’t mean that. You can’t still have feelings for me. Not like that.”
    “I do.”
    “Surely, after all this time, you’ve stopped—”
    “No.”
    “Why are you telling me