Read Online Lover in the Rough by Elizabeth Lowell - Free Book Online
Authors: Elizabeth Lowell
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though. Never just me .”
It wasn’t an easy thing to admit. The anger and humiliation in Reba transmitted itself to Chance. His hands gentled, moving slowly over her arms, savoring her warmth beneath the black silk sleeves.
“I’m not like your ex-husband, chaton ,” he murmured. “I’ve never been interested in virgins.”
Reba stared through Chance, refusing to see him, waiting only to be released.
“Look at me,” Chance demanded in a rough voice. “Do you think I’m like the other men you’ve known?”
Her eyes focused on him, clear and hard. “No,” she said coolly, “I don’t. You don’t seem to want any of the usual things from me. I doubt that your bed is ever cold unless you want it that way. You’re too self-confident to need me to build your ego, and I suspect that there’s damn little I could teach you about the gem trail that you don’t already know. As for money—”
He stood very still, searching her eyes, his face tense. “As for money,” he said harshly, “I have enough. Or don’t you believe me?”
“I don’t care,” she said simply. “You didn’t know who I was in Death Valley, and you wanted me then. That’s why I trusted you so much, so quickly. You didn’t know me but you helped me, held me . . . and then you kissed me. You wanted me . That never had happened to me before.” She looked at his face, hard and very male, black hair like a sleek, softly curling pelt, his eyes a silvergreen unlike any gem she could name, his mouth firm and yet so sensual it was all she could do not to stand on tiptoe until she could feel his lips moving across hers. She looked away. “I’ve answered your question. Now let me go.”
“I can’t,” he said, bending down until his mouth was so close she could feel the warmth of his breath. “What happened in Death Valley was like walking down a dry streambed and finding a hundred-carat diamond blazing in the sun. The thought of you sharing that incredible fire with someone else made me angry.” Chance laughed abruptly. “Let me rephrase that. Now that I know you, the thought of any man but me touching you makes me killing mad. It’s not rational or polite or pretty. It simply is .”
Reba looked up at Chance again. There wasn’t anything in his eyes that comforted her now. Tiger God, burning bright. As she sensed the wildness seething beneath his control, something deeply buried in her stirred and stretched, awakening. When she spoke her voice was soft and very certain. “I don’t want any man but you to touch me.”
Slowly the tension left Chance’s body. Muscles that had stood out against his soft shirt became supple again rather than rigid. Without holding her, he kissed her gently, brushing his lips over hers until her mouth softened and her breath sighed out. When his tongue touched hers, he made a sound deep in his throat. He pulled her close, holding her as though she were water slipping through his fingers and he must drink now or be forever thirsty.
When he finally lifted his mouth, both of them were breathing raggedly. “If you’ll share your beach with me,” he said in a husky drawl, “I’ll promise to behave.”
“You won’t have any choice. The beach really isn’t that private.”
As he turned to get the comforter out of the trunk again, her voice stopped him.
“Chance . . .”
He looked over his shoulder.
“This is the first time I’ve come here with anyone.”
“I know.” He smiled crookedly. “I used to think that the old saying about green eyes and jealousy wasn’t true. I was wrong. I just hadn’t found anything worth being jealous of.”
Chance opened the trunk, draped the comforter over his shoulder and took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. The subtle roughness of his palm, like his total alertness to movement around him, was a reminder of what his life had been like. He was a man who had lived and worked in harsh places. It showed in everything about him, even the
It wasn’t an easy thing to admit. The anger and humiliation in Reba transmitted itself to Chance. His hands gentled, moving slowly over her arms, savoring her warmth beneath the black silk sleeves.
“I’m not like your ex-husband, chaton ,” he murmured. “I’ve never been interested in virgins.”
Reba stared through Chance, refusing to see him, waiting only to be released.
“Look at me,” Chance demanded in a rough voice. “Do you think I’m like the other men you’ve known?”
Her eyes focused on him, clear and hard. “No,” she said coolly, “I don’t. You don’t seem to want any of the usual things from me. I doubt that your bed is ever cold unless you want it that way. You’re too self-confident to need me to build your ego, and I suspect that there’s damn little I could teach you about the gem trail that you don’t already know. As for money—”
He stood very still, searching her eyes, his face tense. “As for money,” he said harshly, “I have enough. Or don’t you believe me?”
“I don’t care,” she said simply. “You didn’t know who I was in Death Valley, and you wanted me then. That’s why I trusted you so much, so quickly. You didn’t know me but you helped me, held me . . . and then you kissed me. You wanted me . That never had happened to me before.” She looked at his face, hard and very male, black hair like a sleek, softly curling pelt, his eyes a silvergreen unlike any gem she could name, his mouth firm and yet so sensual it was all she could do not to stand on tiptoe until she could feel his lips moving across hers. She looked away. “I’ve answered your question. Now let me go.”
“I can’t,” he said, bending down until his mouth was so close she could feel the warmth of his breath. “What happened in Death Valley was like walking down a dry streambed and finding a hundred-carat diamond blazing in the sun. The thought of you sharing that incredible fire with someone else made me angry.” Chance laughed abruptly. “Let me rephrase that. Now that I know you, the thought of any man but me touching you makes me killing mad. It’s not rational or polite or pretty. It simply is .”
Reba looked up at Chance again. There wasn’t anything in his eyes that comforted her now. Tiger God, burning bright. As she sensed the wildness seething beneath his control, something deeply buried in her stirred and stretched, awakening. When she spoke her voice was soft and very certain. “I don’t want any man but you to touch me.”
Slowly the tension left Chance’s body. Muscles that had stood out against his soft shirt became supple again rather than rigid. Without holding her, he kissed her gently, brushing his lips over hers until her mouth softened and her breath sighed out. When his tongue touched hers, he made a sound deep in his throat. He pulled her close, holding her as though she were water slipping through his fingers and he must drink now or be forever thirsty.
When he finally lifted his mouth, both of them were breathing raggedly. “If you’ll share your beach with me,” he said in a husky drawl, “I’ll promise to behave.”
“You won’t have any choice. The beach really isn’t that private.”
As he turned to get the comforter out of the trunk again, her voice stopped him.
“Chance . . .”
He looked over his shoulder.
“This is the first time I’ve come here with anyone.”
“I know.” He smiled crookedly. “I used to think that the old saying about green eyes and jealousy wasn’t true. I was wrong. I just hadn’t found anything worth being jealous of.”
Chance opened the trunk, draped the comforter over his shoulder and took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. The subtle roughness of his palm, like his total alertness to movement around him, was a reminder of what his life had been like. He was a man who had lived and worked in harsh places. It showed in everything about him, even the
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