Read Online Sinful Seduction by Ann Christopher - Free Book Online
Authors: Ann Christopher
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lovely.
And she wondered, again, about the many sides of Sandro Davies, the man who’d almost become her brother-in-law.
Chapter 6
S he showed up at ten-thirty that night, which was later than Sandro had expected. On the other hand, he’d prayed she wouldn’t come at all, so maybe this was the best outcome he could hope for.
He’d known, on some gut level, that giving Skylar the widest possible berth until she left his house—he hated to think he was avoiding her; that made him seem like such a coward—wouldn’t take care of the problem she presented. Actually, problem was the wrong word.
Temptation. That was the right word.
The good thing was, she gave him plenty of warning that she was on her way. Hobbled with her bad leg and the crutches, she’d thumped down the staircase like a kangaroo on a Pogo stick, and then roamed up and down the long hallways, tapping on the various doorways with her discreet knock, looking for him in the dark and quiet house. Now here she was.
He looked up from his book and stared at the fire’s dancing flames, waiting, his pulse a hard beat of anticipation in his throat.
She knocked.
He paused, torn between the right choice and what he wanted, which never seemed to be the same thing. Why should tonight be any different?
“Come in,” he called, choosing what he wanted, which was to see her. Just for a little while, and only because he hadn’t seen her today. Where was the harm?
The door swung open, and there she was, in all her injured glory, her face flushed with effort and her eyes bright with excitement.
God, she was beautiful.
He studied her under cover of the shadows, approving of what he saw. Her hair was in what looked like a damp ponytail, with curls falling across her forehead and over her ears. She’d changed into a long-sleeve T-shirt and a pair of those sleek black exercise pants (for yoga, weren’t they?) that emphasized the lean curves of her hips and thighs. Her pretty bare feet, with dark polish, were in black flip-flops, and her injured leg was pulled up, so that only her toes grazed the floor. Her leg didn’t seem to be unduly swollen or painful.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi.”
“Can I come in?”
“Could I stop you?”
Grinning, she didn’t bother to answer, but swung all the way into the room, shutting the door behind her. It took her a few hopping steps before she made it to the chair nearest his spot on the sofa and collapsed. Her restless gaze touched everything in his den: the neutral upholstery, the glass tables, the brass floor lamps, the fire, the flat-screen TV mounted above the mantel, the candles, his battery-operated book light, his book.
Her curiosity satisfied, she turned back to him. “Man cave, eh?”
“Apparently not.”
Skylar was, he’d discovered, impervious to hints and verbal darts, and this one, naturally, rolled right off her protective shell.
“Good news,” she announced. “I’m doing better.”
“I heard.” He’d had regular updates on her progress from Mickey.
“And even though you couldn’t be bothered to come see me all day—”
“I was outside, clearing the smaller branches from the road.”
“—I thought you’d want to know that I don’t have a fever and the stitches are holding. And my leg isn’t that swollen, which is good.”
“Excellent.”
“I took a nap and a shower.”
“Great.”
“Mickey brought me dinner.”
“The peanut butter and jelly was to your liking?”
“It was delicious. But I prefer blackberry jam over grape jelly.”
“I’ll make a note. Anything else? Before you head back to your room, where you belong?”
“Yes. I met Nikolas. I like him. He seems like a great kid.”
Was she joking? “Really?”
“Really. You don’t agree?”
“Let’s just say that the headmasters of the last two schools that expelled him didn’t agree.”
“So he has some issues, but what teenager doesn’t? He’ll be fine.”
“And you base this on… What? Your
And she wondered, again, about the many sides of Sandro Davies, the man who’d almost become her brother-in-law.
Chapter 6
S he showed up at ten-thirty that night, which was later than Sandro had expected. On the other hand, he’d prayed she wouldn’t come at all, so maybe this was the best outcome he could hope for.
He’d known, on some gut level, that giving Skylar the widest possible berth until she left his house—he hated to think he was avoiding her; that made him seem like such a coward—wouldn’t take care of the problem she presented. Actually, problem was the wrong word.
Temptation. That was the right word.
The good thing was, she gave him plenty of warning that she was on her way. Hobbled with her bad leg and the crutches, she’d thumped down the staircase like a kangaroo on a Pogo stick, and then roamed up and down the long hallways, tapping on the various doorways with her discreet knock, looking for him in the dark and quiet house. Now here she was.
He looked up from his book and stared at the fire’s dancing flames, waiting, his pulse a hard beat of anticipation in his throat.
She knocked.
He paused, torn between the right choice and what he wanted, which never seemed to be the same thing. Why should tonight be any different?
“Come in,” he called, choosing what he wanted, which was to see her. Just for a little while, and only because he hadn’t seen her today. Where was the harm?
The door swung open, and there she was, in all her injured glory, her face flushed with effort and her eyes bright with excitement.
God, she was beautiful.
He studied her under cover of the shadows, approving of what he saw. Her hair was in what looked like a damp ponytail, with curls falling across her forehead and over her ears. She’d changed into a long-sleeve T-shirt and a pair of those sleek black exercise pants (for yoga, weren’t they?) that emphasized the lean curves of her hips and thighs. Her pretty bare feet, with dark polish, were in black flip-flops, and her injured leg was pulled up, so that only her toes grazed the floor. Her leg didn’t seem to be unduly swollen or painful.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi.”
“Can I come in?”
“Could I stop you?”
Grinning, she didn’t bother to answer, but swung all the way into the room, shutting the door behind her. It took her a few hopping steps before she made it to the chair nearest his spot on the sofa and collapsed. Her restless gaze touched everything in his den: the neutral upholstery, the glass tables, the brass floor lamps, the fire, the flat-screen TV mounted above the mantel, the candles, his battery-operated book light, his book.
Her curiosity satisfied, she turned back to him. “Man cave, eh?”
“Apparently not.”
Skylar was, he’d discovered, impervious to hints and verbal darts, and this one, naturally, rolled right off her protective shell.
“Good news,” she announced. “I’m doing better.”
“I heard.” He’d had regular updates on her progress from Mickey.
“And even though you couldn’t be bothered to come see me all day—”
“I was outside, clearing the smaller branches from the road.”
“—I thought you’d want to know that I don’t have a fever and the stitches are holding. And my leg isn’t that swollen, which is good.”
“Excellent.”
“I took a nap and a shower.”
“Great.”
“Mickey brought me dinner.”
“The peanut butter and jelly was to your liking?”
“It was delicious. But I prefer blackberry jam over grape jelly.”
“I’ll make a note. Anything else? Before you head back to your room, where you belong?”
“Yes. I met Nikolas. I like him. He seems like a great kid.”
Was she joking? “Really?”
“Really. You don’t agree?”
“Let’s just say that the headmasters of the last two schools that expelled him didn’t agree.”
“So he has some issues, but what teenager doesn’t? He’ll be fine.”
“And you base this on… What? Your
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