Read Online Forbidden by Pat Warren - Free Book Online Page B

answered honestly, slipping his arm around her waist as they walked into her living room. “I’ve been
     at it for eighteen hours, and I have to be up at six.” After setting down his briefcase, he popped it open and withdrew a
     cellophane-wrapped package, which he handed to her.
    She melted. “Raspberries. My favorites. They’re almost impossible to find in October.”
    He’d stopped in to see his mother just as Sam’s greengrocertruck had arrived. “I have connections.” He removed his jacket, tossed it aside, and sat down.
    Liz set aside the raspberries and knelt on the couch alongside him. She placed her hands on his shoulders and began kneading
     the tense muscles. She never knew what to say when he came to her like this, which he did frequently. Should she tell him
     to leave for his sake or to stay for hers? “How did your meeting go?”
    “All right, I think. Might have won over a few.”
    “You did, I know.”
    He closed his eyes, letting his head fall forward, letting her magic fingers work on his tense muscles. “How can you sound
     so certain?”
    “Because I believe in you, in what you’re trying to do, in what you
will
do.”
    “I hope I never disappoint you.”
    She leaned in to kiss his neck. “You never could. Would you like a drink?”
    Adam shook his head. “It’d put me right out.” He leaned back, relaxing, looking around. He liked her apartment, which was
     a good thing, since he’d spent more time here this past summer than in his own. It was small but not confining, with her feminine
     touches everywhere: the colorful pillows tossed on the muted print couch, fresh flowers in several vases, framed art ranging
     from a vivid poppy to a serene seascape. And sculpted pieces in all shapes and sizes on every table, atop her desk, and on
     the bookcase shelves. All were her own work, showing a progression of growth as an artist that surprised and pleased him.
    He glanced over at her worktable in the far corner near the window. Narrowing his eyes, he studied the form taking shape.
     “You’re working on a new piece?”
    Her fingers moved up into his neck and dug deep. “Yes. Recognize my subject?”
    “I believe so.” He didn’t know if he was flattered or worried that she was doing a bust of him. He knew it wouldn’tbe an unemotional piece copied from a picture. From what he’d seen of her work, she tended to reach for the soul and put it
     in each piece. He wasn’t sure he wanted her looking that deeply inside him.
    “It’s not going well,” she confessed. “Something’s missing. I can’t get it quite right.”
    He shifted, easing her around until she lay across his lap. “Why make a bust when you have the real thing right here?”
    It was the eyes, she thought. Adam’s eyes were deceptively innocent. You had to look long and hard to see the rock-hard determination.
     She wanted to give a hint of that, but to temper it with the tenderness she knew was also a big part of him. She would keep
     at it until she got it right.
    Liz smiled up at him. “And I love having the real thing right here.” As she’d hoped, he kissed her, long and thoroughly. “Are
     you hungry? I could scramble some eggs.”
    He could smell bath powder on her and the moisturizer she’d put on her face, the scent of her already achingly familiar. He
     brushed back her hair, then framed her face with his hands. “I am hungry. Not for food. For you. Let’s go to bed.”
    “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just sleep? I can hold you and—”
    “The day I want to go to bed with you and just sleep, they might as well start carving my tombstone.”
    She smiled. “You flatter me.”
    But Adam was serious. “You excite me when I’m with you. Even when I’m not and I just think of you.” He gave an annoyed shake
     of his head. “I didn’t plan on this happening, Liz.”
    He didn’t say the rest, that he was unhappy about it, but he might as well have. She heard it loud and clear. She knew