Read Online Cypress Nights by Stella Cameron - Free Book Online Page B

very different man, who expected the same service. She wouldn’t go there again.
    â€œSorry,” he said. “It’s probably right in front of me, but could you tell me where the towel is?”
    â€œIt’s over here,” she told him, feeling small-minded.
    He saw where she was heading and beat her to the oven. “Wow, that feels good,” he said, chafing at his hands and arms. “It’s probably more expensive to keep turning the air on and off than keeping it steady.”
    She felt as if Roche filled the kitchen, just as he seemed to fill every space where they encountered one another. Rather than look any closer at him, standing in sunlight through the window, she scooted to put the air-conditioning on. Fortunately, it responded quickly.
    Roche felt cold air blast from a vent over his head and turned his face up to enjoy it. He was smooth, but not so smooth that Bleu wouldn’t know he was going to pressure her to spend some time with him. Unsettling her was not fun, but this woman had issues and if he let her, she would slide into her cocoon again and any further attempts to reach her would only get more difficult. He intended to reach all of her.
    â€œIt cools down fast,” she said, coming back to him. “I’m sorry it was uncomfortable.”
    â€œWhy are you sorry?” he said automatically.
    â€œBecause you were uncomfortable.” Her hands came together as they did so often and she laced her fingers hard enough to turn the knuckles white.
    â€œYou didn’t want me in your home. I barged in. The only person who’s comfort matters around here is yours.”
    He knew he should go, but he didn’t want to.
    Suddenly, she smiled. “You’re welcome here.” Her face brightened and her green eyes flashed. She tossed her hair back.
    â€œThat’s a killer smile, Bleu.” A catch in his throat surprised him.
    â€œIs that a compliment?” she asked.
    â€œI guess so. It means that your smile slays me, it’s so beautiful. You look sad too often. You were meant to laugh a lot.”
    â€œHah.” She lifted her hair off her neck and pointed her chin at the cool air still pouring into the room. “I like the way you think. No one ever said that to me before.”
    â€œThey should have.” Watching her, the lines of her profile and neck, the tender underside of her uplifted arm—such a slender arm—turned his skin cold, set his brain on fire. He’d like to see her dance, naked, without her knowing he was near. He could watch her endlessly.
    What he really wanted was to have his hands on her, and his body. Painting her skin with something warm and wet, smoothing her breasts and belly, sweeping down between her legs, molding her with his fingers…. She would flush while he aroused her, and soon she’d be urging herself against him, asking for more.
    He must go. Now.
    â€œIt’s a beautiful day,” she said, dropping her arms and putting her hands on her hips. She swayed a little, setting the hem of her dress flipping about her pretty legs.
    No pat answer came to mind. The battle with his sex drive was on. He couldn’t lose this time, or ever again.
    â€œThank you for staying with me this morning,” she said. “I try to be tough, but I need people as much as anyone does. The least you deserve for putting up with me is some fresh coffee. You couldn’t have had enough, of anything, not with all the interruptions at All Tarted Up. Sit at the table.”
    He sat where she said, at a round, light-wood table with matching chairs. It would be classified as 1950s retro. She must polish the table regularly. The furniture he could see was all older, but well-kept and from the same era. Therewas a large lime-green phone with a dial on the counter, and she had a corner booth that was classic Coca Cola diner. He made a guess at its purpose and decided she must use it as some sort of