Read Online This Love Will Go On by Shirley Larson - Free Book Online
Authors: Shirley Larson
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reaction. Time hung in a curious suspension. She stared at him, the dark figure in an open jacket, hard, tough, lean and male, with flakes of snow melting in his amber gold hair.
He said, “If you still love him, I’ll stop the marriage.”
Her mouth lifted in a wry smile. “I thought you didn’t like playing God.”
“I owe you that much.”
She sighed. “You don't owe me anything, Jade.” She added dryly, “I'll send him a punch bowl.”
He said something under his breath. Knowing that stress and an excess of alcohol had driven him to offer her this weird apology, she chided, “You've had too much to drink. Come on, cowboy, you need some fresh air.”
She tried a push to get him moving. Her palm slid past his open jacket and connected with his chest. His reaction was immediate-and violent. He caught her arm and swung her around opposite him, pinning her against the side of the doorframe with a strength that both astounded and terrified her. She had thought him sloppily drunk, easy to handle. She’d miscalculated badly. She stared up at the profile of his face, seeing the hard determination the gritty agony of a man driven to the limit. His other hand grasped her waist in a grip of velvet steel. She wore a pullover sweater and heavy denim pants, but the material was no barrier to the warmth and weight of his hand. Against her hip, his palm fit as if it were the mold she'd been poured from.
“Don't you care?” he muttered.
“About Marc? No. Why should I?” Her breathing quickened.
“I thought you loved him,” he murmured his voice soft, as if he were thinking about it. “But you didn't, did you? You’re as incapable of loving a man as your sister was.”
That stung. Her voice bitter and acrid, she replied, “Well, now that you've discovered the truth about me and eased your conscience, I know you’ll sleep better tonight.”
“I'd rather be sleeping with you,” his voice was a low, seductive murmur poured into her ear.
Startled, she reeled with shock. She fought her reaction to his seductive words with anger…and the biggest lie of all. “I'm not…interested in you, \Jade.”
“Do you know what happens when you tell falsehoods?” He tapped the end of her nose lightly, chuckling. Then he pulled her closer and pressed his mouth to her forehead. “You're lying, honey. You melt in my arms when I kiss you. Your mouth is deliciously pliant when you open it under mine. I can feel how much you want me every time I hold you.”
Her skin burned. She forced her voice to steadiness. “You do have a colossal ego, Jade. Let go of me.”
He shook his head. “I could have walked out of here if you hadn't touched me.” He closed his eyes and lifted his hand to her cheek. His knuckles bent, he grazed the backs of his fingers over the smooth, satiny skin, raising fire. “But now,” he breathed, his voice soft as thistledown “now it's too late.” His caress explored her cheek until he uncurled his lean fingers and cupped her chin. “Tell me you hate having me do this to you.”
“Jade, stop it.” Her voice was breathless, huskily soft. “You don't know what you're doing.”
“Don't l?” He laughed softly and shook his head. “I’m doing what I always want to do whenever I get within fifty feet of you.” His words dissolved her resistance. She felt his hand slide around her nape and hold her head steady. Breathless, she waited for his mouth to complete that long, slow descent toward hers.
His lips were cool and scented with alcohol. He kissed her sweetly, like a boy wooing a girl on her first date. For a long tender moment, he made no move to deepen the kiss. He simply held his mouth on hers, as if the contact gave him a deep satisfaction he wanted to savor. Then he groaned a low sound of pain and pulled her deeper into his arms. Under the open edges of his coat, he 1ocked her in his male world, a world redolent with the aroma
He said, “If you still love him, I’ll stop the marriage.”
Her mouth lifted in a wry smile. “I thought you didn’t like playing God.”
“I owe you that much.”
She sighed. “You don't owe me anything, Jade.” She added dryly, “I'll send him a punch bowl.”
He said something under his breath. Knowing that stress and an excess of alcohol had driven him to offer her this weird apology, she chided, “You've had too much to drink. Come on, cowboy, you need some fresh air.”
She tried a push to get him moving. Her palm slid past his open jacket and connected with his chest. His reaction was immediate-and violent. He caught her arm and swung her around opposite him, pinning her against the side of the doorframe with a strength that both astounded and terrified her. She had thought him sloppily drunk, easy to handle. She’d miscalculated badly. She stared up at the profile of his face, seeing the hard determination the gritty agony of a man driven to the limit. His other hand grasped her waist in a grip of velvet steel. She wore a pullover sweater and heavy denim pants, but the material was no barrier to the warmth and weight of his hand. Against her hip, his palm fit as if it were the mold she'd been poured from.
“Don't you care?” he muttered.
“About Marc? No. Why should I?” Her breathing quickened.
“I thought you loved him,” he murmured his voice soft, as if he were thinking about it. “But you didn't, did you? You’re as incapable of loving a man as your sister was.”
That stung. Her voice bitter and acrid, she replied, “Well, now that you've discovered the truth about me and eased your conscience, I know you’ll sleep better tonight.”
“I'd rather be sleeping with you,” his voice was a low, seductive murmur poured into her ear.
Startled, she reeled with shock. She fought her reaction to his seductive words with anger…and the biggest lie of all. “I'm not…interested in you, \Jade.”
“Do you know what happens when you tell falsehoods?” He tapped the end of her nose lightly, chuckling. Then he pulled her closer and pressed his mouth to her forehead. “You're lying, honey. You melt in my arms when I kiss you. Your mouth is deliciously pliant when you open it under mine. I can feel how much you want me every time I hold you.”
Her skin burned. She forced her voice to steadiness. “You do have a colossal ego, Jade. Let go of me.”
He shook his head. “I could have walked out of here if you hadn't touched me.” He closed his eyes and lifted his hand to her cheek. His knuckles bent, he grazed the backs of his fingers over the smooth, satiny skin, raising fire. “But now,” he breathed, his voice soft as thistledown “now it's too late.” His caress explored her cheek until he uncurled his lean fingers and cupped her chin. “Tell me you hate having me do this to you.”
“Jade, stop it.” Her voice was breathless, huskily soft. “You don't know what you're doing.”
“Don't l?” He laughed softly and shook his head. “I’m doing what I always want to do whenever I get within fifty feet of you.” His words dissolved her resistance. She felt his hand slide around her nape and hold her head steady. Breathless, she waited for his mouth to complete that long, slow descent toward hers.
His lips were cool and scented with alcohol. He kissed her sweetly, like a boy wooing a girl on her first date. For a long tender moment, he made no move to deepen the kiss. He simply held his mouth on hers, as if the contact gave him a deep satisfaction he wanted to savor. Then he groaned a low sound of pain and pulled her deeper into his arms. Under the open edges of his coat, he 1ocked her in his male world, a world redolent with the aroma
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