Read Online To Have and to Hold by Diana Palmer - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Diana Palmer
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arms contracted slowly, with an aching need, pressing her relentlessly closer to that powerful, husky body. A tremor ran through her at the almost intimate contact, closer then she'd ever been to a man.
"The only women I want to follow me wouldn't," he replied in an odd, husky voice.
The brunette, of course, she thought miserably and with a tired sigh.
He felt her withdrawal, as if he could see into her mind, and silently loosened his hold so that she could step back.
"I could sure use a cup of coffee," he said tightly.
She forced a smile. "I just happen to have one."
He sat down at the kitchen breakfast bar and smoked a cigarette while he waited for her to pour the coffee, his dark eyes never leaving her for an instant.
She darted an occasional glance his way, puzzled by the intensity of the gaze, the dark, inscrutable look in his eyes.
"Have I done something to make you angry?" she asked finally when she'd placed the coffee in front of him and was sitting beside him.
"No." he said, as she watched him take a long draw from the cigarette.
There was a long silence, filled with the sound of rain crashing down on the bushes outside the window.
"Isn't the rain lovely?" she asked finally, just for something to say. "It's been so dry lately. My tomato plants were gasping."
"Ummmm," he murmured, his eyes blank as they stared into the thick black liquid in his mug.
"You're dead on your feet, aren't you?" she asked softly.
"Worse than that." He finished off the coffee and set the mug down. "I haven't slept in forty-eight hours."
"Cal! What are you trying to do, kill yourself?" she burst out.
He lifted an eyebrow at the concern in her voice. "Why, Miss Blainn, you'll make me conceited. I might think you care."
She blushed furiously and averted her eyes. "You're my friend," she whispered. "Of course I care!"
He stood, and she felt his eyes on her bent head. "How about dinner tomorrow night?"
She glanced up at him with a smile. "I'd like that."
"I'll pick you up at six."
"All right."
He leaned over and ruffled her hair. "I missed you, Burgundy," he said gently.
She looked up with warmth overflowing in her eyes. "I missed you, too," she whispered.
His eyes narrowed, glittering. They dropped to her mouth an d lingered there like a slow, lazy caress, bringing her heart into her throat, making her pulse run wild. "You make me feel my age sometimes, little girl," he murmured deeply.
"You're not old, Cal," she said softly.
There was a brief pause, and she heard him move. Suddenly he was kneeling beside her chair, his height making his head level with hers.
His big hand went to her throat, her fingers caressing and slow and warm. "Why did you freeze on me earlier, when I was holding you?" he asked, his eyes looking deep into hers.
She could barely get her breath, the nearness of his big body worked on her nerves so. "I...I didn't realize I had," she lied unsteadily.
"Liar," he whispered, and his face moved toward hers, dark, solemn and relentless.
She stiffened involuntarily in anticipation, feeling his breath, warm and smoky, whipping across her lips as his mouth touched hers for the first time. She felt a surge of warmth explode inside her at the contact, a starburst of sensation that was new and a little frightening. His mouth was warm and exquisitely gentle at first, giving her time to adjust to the change in their relationship. But then, just as she began to relax, to let that powerful hand at her neck coax her face closer, his mouth began to open on hers, forcing her lips apart in an intimacy she'd never experienced before. She struggled quickly free and sat there staring at him blankly, her eyes dark and wide and her mouth softly trembling.
He watched her, his face impassive, but there was an expression in his eyes that shook her. "Little innocent," he said quietly, and it sounded strangely like an endearment.
She dropped her eyes in embarrassment. "I can't help being stupid about things," she
"The only women I want to follow me wouldn't," he replied in an odd, husky voice.
The brunette, of course, she thought miserably and with a tired sigh.
He felt her withdrawal, as if he could see into her mind, and silently loosened his hold so that she could step back.
"I could sure use a cup of coffee," he said tightly.
She forced a smile. "I just happen to have one."
He sat down at the kitchen breakfast bar and smoked a cigarette while he waited for her to pour the coffee, his dark eyes never leaving her for an instant.
She darted an occasional glance his way, puzzled by the intensity of the gaze, the dark, inscrutable look in his eyes.
"Have I done something to make you angry?" she asked finally when she'd placed the coffee in front of him and was sitting beside him.
"No." he said, as she watched him take a long draw from the cigarette.
There was a long silence, filled with the sound of rain crashing down on the bushes outside the window.
"Isn't the rain lovely?" she asked finally, just for something to say. "It's been so dry lately. My tomato plants were gasping."
"Ummmm," he murmured, his eyes blank as they stared into the thick black liquid in his mug.
"You're dead on your feet, aren't you?" she asked softly.
"Worse than that." He finished off the coffee and set the mug down. "I haven't slept in forty-eight hours."
"Cal! What are you trying to do, kill yourself?" she burst out.
He lifted an eyebrow at the concern in her voice. "Why, Miss Blainn, you'll make me conceited. I might think you care."
She blushed furiously and averted her eyes. "You're my friend," she whispered. "Of course I care!"
He stood, and she felt his eyes on her bent head. "How about dinner tomorrow night?"
She glanced up at him with a smile. "I'd like that."
"I'll pick you up at six."
"All right."
He leaned over and ruffled her hair. "I missed you, Burgundy," he said gently.
She looked up with warmth overflowing in her eyes. "I missed you, too," she whispered.
His eyes narrowed, glittering. They dropped to her mouth an d lingered there like a slow, lazy caress, bringing her heart into her throat, making her pulse run wild. "You make me feel my age sometimes, little girl," he murmured deeply.
"You're not old, Cal," she said softly.
There was a brief pause, and she heard him move. Suddenly he was kneeling beside her chair, his height making his head level with hers.
His big hand went to her throat, her fingers caressing and slow and warm. "Why did you freeze on me earlier, when I was holding you?" he asked, his eyes looking deep into hers.
She could barely get her breath, the nearness of his big body worked on her nerves so. "I...I didn't realize I had," she lied unsteadily.
"Liar," he whispered, and his face moved toward hers, dark, solemn and relentless.
She stiffened involuntarily in anticipation, feeling his breath, warm and smoky, whipping across her lips as his mouth touched hers for the first time. She felt a surge of warmth explode inside her at the contact, a starburst of sensation that was new and a little frightening. His mouth was warm and exquisitely gentle at first, giving her time to adjust to the change in their relationship. But then, just as she began to relax, to let that powerful hand at her neck coax her face closer, his mouth began to open on hers, forcing her lips apart in an intimacy she'd never experienced before. She struggled quickly free and sat there staring at him blankly, her eyes dark and wide and her mouth softly trembling.
He watched her, his face impassive, but there was an expression in his eyes that shook her. "Little innocent," he said quietly, and it sounded strangely like an endearment.
She dropped her eyes in embarrassment. "I can't help being stupid about things," she
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