Read Online Jane Bonander by Dancing on Snowflakes - Free Book Online

knowing what she was feeling was not fear, but something else altogether, something much more frightening to her: a physical attraction that she’d never felt before and didn’t understand.

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    U pon rising the next morning, Susannah heard Max moving around on the porch, his paws clicking against the boards. Smiling, she stepped to the door and opened it. Max lifted his head and woofed, his tail whacking happily against the porch floor.
    She stepped outside and bent to scratch him. “Good morning, you handsome devil.”
    “Thank you. And, good morning to you.”
    Susannah gasped and stood, looking into the face of Nathan Wolfe as he climbed the porch steps. “Oh . . . I . . . I didn’t know you were already here.”
    He leaned against the porch railing, flicked his cigarette away, and gave her a half smile. His gaze moved slowly over her. “And here I thought you were talking to me.”
    His teasing unsettled her, giving her an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach. Little things about him—his gentleness with Corey, his willingness to work, the warmth of his touch—confused her.
    Remembering how she was dressed, and how little it took to arouse a man, she tied the sash to her dressing gown tightly around her waist, then pulled the lapels closed over her breasts. She gave him a quick glance; he still watched her.
    “I don’t ravage women,” he said wryly as he pushed himself away from the railing and started down the steps.
    A hot flush warmed Susannah’s chest and worked its way slowly into her face. “How lucky for me,” she snapped smartly. She went inside and purposely slammed the door harder than was necessary, angrier with herself than she was with him. Constantly remembering how her life was before was ruining the life she had now. Harlan and Nathan Wolfe were about as different as two men could be.
    With a slow shake of her head, she went into her bedroom to dress. Old sorrows were hard to bury. As much as she wanted to, she’d lived with Harlan too many years to just shut him out of her thoughts. He continually glided in, slithering about her memory like the cold, clammy snake he’d been.
    Had she responded so smartly to Harlan, she would have been punched, kicked or . . . or raped. It had always been a vicious circle. Her response to something he’d said or done would anger him, his own anger would arouse him, then she’d be at the mercy of the punishing end of his fist, or the hard toe of his boot, or . . . or the other. And despite her desire to protect herself against the other, her pregnancy with Corey had slipped through her defenses. But she wasn’t sorry. Oh, God, no. She wasn’t sorry she had Corey.
    Now, regardless of her desire to have Nathan gone, she spent an inordinate amount of time dressing. Still, when it came time to fix her hair, she barely glanced at herself in the mirror. For too long, she hadn’t liked what she saw. Black eyes . . . split lips . . . bruises along her jawline. And she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d actually looked at herself without clothes, but at least those bruises had been easy to hide.
    She fastened the last hook on her blue cotton dress and opened the bedroom door. Momentarily, she stood as if frozen. In her mind, what she saw was Harlan bending over Corey, like he’d been that day she’d had to kill him. She felt a cold rush of panic.
    “What are you doing?” She tried to keep her voice calm as she hurried to them.
    Nathan must have sensed her fears. “Don’t get your knickers in a knot, woman. I’m just changing his diaper. What does it look like I’m doing?”
    Susannah’s relief turned to anger. She roughly pushed him aside and finished the job, ignoring her shaky fingers.
    “You . . . you don’t have to do that. It’s not your responsibility.”
    He stood beside her, his thigh nearly touching her hip. “Sorry.” He didn’t sound apologetic at all. “But he was wandering around outside naked as the day he was born. I