Read Online To Love a Man by Karen Robards - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Karen Robards
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were squeezed tightly shut as she fought to exclude the images that tormented her. He had aroused her with cool calculation, she told herself despairingly, and she would never get over it—never. She would hate him for the rest of her life. If only she could get out of her mind the picture of herself naked in his arms, clinging to him shamelessly as she pressed hot little kisses into the salty brownness of his neck!
After a while it occurred to her that she was still in Sam’s tent, lying in his cot, as naked as the day she was born. If one thing was more certain than any other in this crazy world, it was that Sam would be sure to return. With a complete reversal of her earlier opinion of it, she longed for her own tent. The small green shelter seemed to offer a security that she desperately needed. She sat up abruptly, aiming to return to her tent before Sam returned to his. If he found her here, naked, he would probably assume that she was shamelessly waiting for him. . . . Lisa’s face burned at the very idea. Detestable, arrogant beast! She swung her legs off the cot and stood up, determined to leave that very instant. Wildly she looked around for something to cover her nakedness. There was only the blanket. . . . Lisa’s hell-bent desire to make herself scarce faltered momentarily at the picture of herself parading through the already-sure-to-be-snickering camp clad only in a blanket. But what other choice did she have? Anything was preferable to still being there when Sam returned.
The thought galvanized Lisa into action. She grabbed the blanket from the floor and wrapped it around herself in the same sarong style she had used earlier. What did it matter if the whole camp laughed and drew their own conclusions about what had happened inside Sam’s tent? It was preferable by far to having to face Sam again right now. . . . Lisa headed purposefully toward the flap. A slight sound from just outside stopped her in her tracks. Someone was approaching the tent—and she had a shrewd idea of who that someone had to be. She froze, her face coloring ridiculously, her eyes glued to the tent flap. Her worst fears were confirmed when Sam entered, ducking his dark head as he stepped inside. Her clothes and shoes dangled from one strong brown hand.
He straightened, surveying her briefly as she stood there poised for flight. His mouth quirked, and then he reached out a hand to flick on the battery-powered lamp that stood on an overturned crate near him. The tent was immediately flooded with light. Lisa automatically put up a hand to shield her eyes, hating the brightness that would reveal to him every nuance of her expression. She thought she would want to die if he should guess how very sick of herself he had made her. Finally she realized that she would have to drop her protective hand. She did so, reluctantly, to find that Sam was watching her, his dark face inscrutable.
“Here,” he said, tossing her clothes at her.
Lisa made no move to catch them, and they fell to the floor at her feet, surrounding her. Her eyes seemed glued to Sam’s face. To her fury, she could feel hot pink color wash into her cheeks. Sam grinned hatefully. It was that grin that allowed Lisa to get a grip on herself. Her temper began to simmer, thankfully driving out the humiliation that threatened to make a bigger fool out of her than he had done already. Her eyes glittered like green glass as they met his. It was an effort to hold back the hot words that trembled on the tip of her tongue. But she knew that she would only amuse him if she let him know how much his particular brand of punishment had gotten under her skin. For the sake of her own self-respect, she had to show him that she was as unmoved by their late, unlamented encounter as he seemed to be.
“Thank you,” Lisa said evenly, and was pardonably proud of herself for her coolness. Sam’s eyes narrowed as they rested on her face. Whatever he had been expecting, she realized that she
After a while it occurred to her that she was still in Sam’s tent, lying in his cot, as naked as the day she was born. If one thing was more certain than any other in this crazy world, it was that Sam would be sure to return. With a complete reversal of her earlier opinion of it, she longed for her own tent. The small green shelter seemed to offer a security that she desperately needed. She sat up abruptly, aiming to return to her tent before Sam returned to his. If he found her here, naked, he would probably assume that she was shamelessly waiting for him. . . . Lisa’s face burned at the very idea. Detestable, arrogant beast! She swung her legs off the cot and stood up, determined to leave that very instant. Wildly she looked around for something to cover her nakedness. There was only the blanket. . . . Lisa’s hell-bent desire to make herself scarce faltered momentarily at the picture of herself parading through the already-sure-to-be-snickering camp clad only in a blanket. But what other choice did she have? Anything was preferable to still being there when Sam returned.
The thought galvanized Lisa into action. She grabbed the blanket from the floor and wrapped it around herself in the same sarong style she had used earlier. What did it matter if the whole camp laughed and drew their own conclusions about what had happened inside Sam’s tent? It was preferable by far to having to face Sam again right now. . . . Lisa headed purposefully toward the flap. A slight sound from just outside stopped her in her tracks. Someone was approaching the tent—and she had a shrewd idea of who that someone had to be. She froze, her face coloring ridiculously, her eyes glued to the tent flap. Her worst fears were confirmed when Sam entered, ducking his dark head as he stepped inside. Her clothes and shoes dangled from one strong brown hand.
He straightened, surveying her briefly as she stood there poised for flight. His mouth quirked, and then he reached out a hand to flick on the battery-powered lamp that stood on an overturned crate near him. The tent was immediately flooded with light. Lisa automatically put up a hand to shield her eyes, hating the brightness that would reveal to him every nuance of her expression. She thought she would want to die if he should guess how very sick of herself he had made her. Finally she realized that she would have to drop her protective hand. She did so, reluctantly, to find that Sam was watching her, his dark face inscrutable.
“Here,” he said, tossing her clothes at her.
Lisa made no move to catch them, and they fell to the floor at her feet, surrounding her. Her eyes seemed glued to Sam’s face. To her fury, she could feel hot pink color wash into her cheeks. Sam grinned hatefully. It was that grin that allowed Lisa to get a grip on herself. Her temper began to simmer, thankfully driving out the humiliation that threatened to make a bigger fool out of her than he had done already. Her eyes glittered like green glass as they met his. It was an effort to hold back the hot words that trembled on the tip of her tongue. But she knew that she would only amuse him if she let him know how much his particular brand of punishment had gotten under her skin. For the sake of her own self-respect, she had to show him that she was as unmoved by their late, unlamented encounter as he seemed to be.
“Thank you,” Lisa said evenly, and was pardonably proud of herself for her coolness. Sam’s eyes narrowed as they rested on her face. Whatever he had been expecting, she realized that she
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