Read Online Under Alaskan Skies by Grace Carol - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Grace Carol
Ads: Link
was never very deep.
Carrie came back with sheets, blanket and pillow. She set them carefully on the couch instead of handing them to him. She didn’t seem to want to get that close to him. He didn’t blame her. She probably didn’t trust him. She might think he couldn’t control himself. But he could. He’d had years of practice ofignoring his impulses. She started up the stairs, then paused and looked over her shoulder at him.
“Matt? Thanks for coming. I really appreciate it. All that talk about you and me? Let’s forget it ever happened, okay?” Her tone was brisk. He had no reason to doubt her sincerity.
He shrugged as if it was no big deal. Forget about it? No problem. If she could forget about it, so could he. Deep down he knew there was no way he’d ever forget anything about her. Even if he left at dawn tomorrow. Even if he married Mira tomorrow. Even if he underwent a course in behavior modification or hypnosis, whatever. As she said, there were some things you just had to live with.
Carrie lay in her bed unable to sleep. She hadn’t lied when she said she was tired. Her whole body cried out for sleep, but her brain was racing, replaying every word Matt had said, every gesture he’d made. Her lips stung from his kisses; her skin felt as if it was on fire. She was just as good at diagnosing her own problems as she was Matt’s. She knew exactly what was wrong with her, and she had no intention of letting it get the best of her.
She only had to use her willpower and build up her immune system. Today she’d been vulnerable, she’d been weak, she’d allowed herself to give in to her emotions, but only temporarily. Tomorrow she’d be strong. Tomorrow he might be gone. If not, she’d go about her life as if he weren’t here. She had the library, she had her friends in the village, she had her boat and her plane and…and…what else? There must be more. She wanted more. She wanted so much more. God help her, she wanted him.
The last time this happened, when she’d fallen for someone almost as unattainable as Matt, she’d fooled herself into thinking it would work out. He would learn to love it in the bush. He’d adapt to her way of life, even though it was completely unreasonable to think so. Hadn’t her own mother walked out on her and her father because she couldn’t stand the isolation?
This time she was smart enough to know it would never work. She knew this was just a crush on the most attractive man she’d ever met. She knew how to get over it. There was time. There was work. There was…oh, there must be something else.
She heard water running downstairs. She pictured Matt in the kitchen getting a drink. Was he hungry? Did he want some tea, hot chocolate? Was he still wearing her father’s clothes or…
She turned over and hit the pillow with her forehead. She strained to hear something from downstairs. There was silence. She could not, should not, must not go down there. His words came back to torture her.
Make love to you on that fur rug in front of the stove…see your skin by firelight, see the flames reflected in your eyes…your hair …
No, she couldn’t do this. She had to think of something else. She had to forget what he’d said to her. She had to forget that hungry look in his eyes. The desire that flared and matched hers. The harder she tried to sleep, the more elusive sleep became. She turned over and looked at the clock. Almost midnight. She squeezed her eyes shut. She told herself she had to sleep. The tension of making an effort turned intoa headache. She went to the bathroom but couldn’t find the aspirin.
She tiptoed down the stairs. If he was asleep, she’d tiptoe right back up. He wasn’t asleep. He was sitting on the edge of the couch, leaning forward, his head in his hands. When she realized he was wearing a white T-shirt and boxer shorts, she quickly turned around to go back upstairs. There was just so much she could take.
He looked up when he heard
Carrie came back with sheets, blanket and pillow. She set them carefully on the couch instead of handing them to him. She didn’t seem to want to get that close to him. He didn’t blame her. She probably didn’t trust him. She might think he couldn’t control himself. But he could. He’d had years of practice ofignoring his impulses. She started up the stairs, then paused and looked over her shoulder at him.
“Matt? Thanks for coming. I really appreciate it. All that talk about you and me? Let’s forget it ever happened, okay?” Her tone was brisk. He had no reason to doubt her sincerity.
He shrugged as if it was no big deal. Forget about it? No problem. If she could forget about it, so could he. Deep down he knew there was no way he’d ever forget anything about her. Even if he left at dawn tomorrow. Even if he married Mira tomorrow. Even if he underwent a course in behavior modification or hypnosis, whatever. As she said, there were some things you just had to live with.
Carrie lay in her bed unable to sleep. She hadn’t lied when she said she was tired. Her whole body cried out for sleep, but her brain was racing, replaying every word Matt had said, every gesture he’d made. Her lips stung from his kisses; her skin felt as if it was on fire. She was just as good at diagnosing her own problems as she was Matt’s. She knew exactly what was wrong with her, and she had no intention of letting it get the best of her.
She only had to use her willpower and build up her immune system. Today she’d been vulnerable, she’d been weak, she’d allowed herself to give in to her emotions, but only temporarily. Tomorrow she’d be strong. Tomorrow he might be gone. If not, she’d go about her life as if he weren’t here. She had the library, she had her friends in the village, she had her boat and her plane and…and…what else? There must be more. She wanted more. She wanted so much more. God help her, she wanted him.
The last time this happened, when she’d fallen for someone almost as unattainable as Matt, she’d fooled herself into thinking it would work out. He would learn to love it in the bush. He’d adapt to her way of life, even though it was completely unreasonable to think so. Hadn’t her own mother walked out on her and her father because she couldn’t stand the isolation?
This time she was smart enough to know it would never work. She knew this was just a crush on the most attractive man she’d ever met. She knew how to get over it. There was time. There was work. There was…oh, there must be something else.
She heard water running downstairs. She pictured Matt in the kitchen getting a drink. Was he hungry? Did he want some tea, hot chocolate? Was he still wearing her father’s clothes or…
She turned over and hit the pillow with her forehead. She strained to hear something from downstairs. There was silence. She could not, should not, must not go down there. His words came back to torture her.
Make love to you on that fur rug in front of the stove…see your skin by firelight, see the flames reflected in your eyes…your hair …
No, she couldn’t do this. She had to think of something else. She had to forget what he’d said to her. She had to forget that hungry look in his eyes. The desire that flared and matched hers. The harder she tried to sleep, the more elusive sleep became. She turned over and looked at the clock. Almost midnight. She squeezed her eyes shut. She told herself she had to sleep. The tension of making an effort turned intoa headache. She went to the bathroom but couldn’t find the aspirin.
She tiptoed down the stairs. If he was asleep, she’d tiptoe right back up. He wasn’t asleep. He was sitting on the edge of the couch, leaning forward, his head in his hands. When she realized he was wearing a white T-shirt and boxer shorts, she quickly turned around to go back upstairs. There was just so much she could take.
He looked up when he heard
Similar Books
