Read Online His Heart Aflame (Beach Haven Book 2) by A.J. Goode - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: A.J. Goode
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to come in?" she stammered.
He snorted. "I think we both know that's not a good idea."
They walked up the beach in silence until they reached the lighted back patio of the B&B. She caught his arm as he turned to go. "Sean, don't—"
"A little late to say that, isn't it?" he said bitterly. "This should never have happened. I'm so sorry, Maggie."
She recoiled as though slapped.
"Your friend will be here tomorrow, right? Then you can go back to Chicago and forget you ever met me."
What if I don’t want to forget? She bit back the words and watched him stalk away into the night. Stupid man .
How could he possibly just walk away and leave her here after what had been the single most erotic experience of her life? He couldn't be thinking he had taken advantage of her, could he? She thought she'd made it pretty damn clear that she was a willing participant.
She felt her face grow warm as she thought back to those moments on the beach. W hat was I thinking ? she wondered. Sure, he was handsome, and there had been an undeniable attraction from the moment she touched his hand back at Ronda’s Place. She had to admit that there was something appealing about the way he seemed to be looking out for her, too, from searching for her in the rainy woods while she cowered in the back of his truck to vouching for her with the Carringtons to get her a room at their Bed and Breakfast.
He seemed to be a genuinely good guy.
He deserves better than a liar . Maggie groaned and let herself into her room, flinging her key on the dresser and flopping back on the bed. He’d been so upset after towing Devon’s car. Was it because he’d figured out who she was? Was he angry because he realized he had vouched for a liar and a car thief?
She mentally kicked herself for not chasing him across the parking lot and forcing him to talk to her. But if she’d done that, she would have had to tell him the truth about everything; somehow, she didn’t think a confession at this point was going to make him feel any better. She should have tried harder to tell him the truth earlier when he stopped her.
Stop . She needed to stop her whirling thoughts from chasing each other in circles around her brain. She was too tired and confused to come to any kind of decision about what to tell him and when, and she was fed up with the constant recriminations.
Maggie turned on the TV to distract herself, and ended up on a 24-hour news channel. Maybe there had been an earthquake in some Third World country that would make her feel sufficiently ashamed of herself for thinking her own problems were so big. She watched a financial report and tried to pay attention to the perky weather girl who was attempting to explain why the upcoming summer was supposed to be hotter than usual, but her mind kept wandering back to the beach.
“And now for some breaking news from the entertainment world.”
Maggie’s attention snapped back to the TV.
“There has been a break in the case of missing reality star Maeve Renault. According to police reports, Devon Rock’s missing sports car has been found in a small town in southwest Lower Michigan. While there is still no sign of Renault, this network has been able to secure photographs of what is now being called a crime scene. A warning to some of our more sensitive viewers: some of these pictures are quite graphic.”
“Oh, no.”
The first picture showed Devon’s car tucked into the shadowy spot between Ben Jacobs’ barn and a willow tree. The next showed the interior of the car, followed by close-ups of the piles of blonde hair, the bloody smears on the upholstery and the tattered pieces of duct tape. One last picture showed her as Maeve in her full bridal glory, taken just moments before she had fled from the church.
It looked so bad that even she felt a spasm of horror. There was a perfectly logical explanation for everything in those pictures, but without that explanation, it certainly seemed to show that the
He snorted. "I think we both know that's not a good idea."
They walked up the beach in silence until they reached the lighted back patio of the B&B. She caught his arm as he turned to go. "Sean, don't—"
"A little late to say that, isn't it?" he said bitterly. "This should never have happened. I'm so sorry, Maggie."
She recoiled as though slapped.
"Your friend will be here tomorrow, right? Then you can go back to Chicago and forget you ever met me."
What if I don’t want to forget? She bit back the words and watched him stalk away into the night. Stupid man .
How could he possibly just walk away and leave her here after what had been the single most erotic experience of her life? He couldn't be thinking he had taken advantage of her, could he? She thought she'd made it pretty damn clear that she was a willing participant.
She felt her face grow warm as she thought back to those moments on the beach. W hat was I thinking ? she wondered. Sure, he was handsome, and there had been an undeniable attraction from the moment she touched his hand back at Ronda’s Place. She had to admit that there was something appealing about the way he seemed to be looking out for her, too, from searching for her in the rainy woods while she cowered in the back of his truck to vouching for her with the Carringtons to get her a room at their Bed and Breakfast.
He seemed to be a genuinely good guy.
He deserves better than a liar . Maggie groaned and let herself into her room, flinging her key on the dresser and flopping back on the bed. He’d been so upset after towing Devon’s car. Was it because he’d figured out who she was? Was he angry because he realized he had vouched for a liar and a car thief?
She mentally kicked herself for not chasing him across the parking lot and forcing him to talk to her. But if she’d done that, she would have had to tell him the truth about everything; somehow, she didn’t think a confession at this point was going to make him feel any better. She should have tried harder to tell him the truth earlier when he stopped her.
Stop . She needed to stop her whirling thoughts from chasing each other in circles around her brain. She was too tired and confused to come to any kind of decision about what to tell him and when, and she was fed up with the constant recriminations.
Maggie turned on the TV to distract herself, and ended up on a 24-hour news channel. Maybe there had been an earthquake in some Third World country that would make her feel sufficiently ashamed of herself for thinking her own problems were so big. She watched a financial report and tried to pay attention to the perky weather girl who was attempting to explain why the upcoming summer was supposed to be hotter than usual, but her mind kept wandering back to the beach.
“And now for some breaking news from the entertainment world.”
Maggie’s attention snapped back to the TV.
“There has been a break in the case of missing reality star Maeve Renault. According to police reports, Devon Rock’s missing sports car has been found in a small town in southwest Lower Michigan. While there is still no sign of Renault, this network has been able to secure photographs of what is now being called a crime scene. A warning to some of our more sensitive viewers: some of these pictures are quite graphic.”
“Oh, no.”
The first picture showed Devon’s car tucked into the shadowy spot between Ben Jacobs’ barn and a willow tree. The next showed the interior of the car, followed by close-ups of the piles of blonde hair, the bloody smears on the upholstery and the tattered pieces of duct tape. One last picture showed her as Maeve in her full bridal glory, taken just moments before she had fled from the church.
It looked so bad that even she felt a spasm of horror. There was a perfectly logical explanation for everything in those pictures, but without that explanation, it certainly seemed to show that the
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