on her list of favorite people, and it didn’t surprise her that he wouldn’t take time to help his best man find an apartment.
“How do you know I’m not?”
“I don’t. This isn’t a command, Ris. I’m asking a favor. Say no if you can’t. I’ll figure it out on my own. I just . . . wanted company.”
Something vibrated under the words, but she couldn’t think with him so close, so she pushed against his chest. He leaned back a few inches, but she harbored no illusions she’d moved him. He’d moved for her, and having that powerful body at her command struck at a very feminine place inside.
“I’m not going to sleep with you again.”
Big words when she was still half-naked and close enough to feel the heat of his erection against her belly, but she had to retain some measure of self-protection here. She chose bed partners without much regard for rules or convention, but something dark and dangerous occasionally breathed fire under Adam’s steel-hard exterior. He had the power to annihilate her. He’d done it before.
“Fine,” he said. He took one step back, all he could do in the tiny bathroom, giving her enough space to struggle back into her layers of shirts. In just seconds she was too warm, the first time that had happened in who knew how long.
“When?” she asked through her tightly closed throat.
“Tomorrow?”
An excuse to put off doing what she had to do, and no small sense of relief washed through her. When she nodded, he added, “I found a couple of apartment complexes online, and a few other rentals in the older parts of town. I’ll pick you up around nine.”
“Okay.”
“Just so you know . . . if you change your mind, ask anytime.” He bent forward and kissed her, soft, hot temptation personified, before he stepped back. “I won’t say no.”
An image flashed bright on the movie screen of her mind: Adam, in her bed, saying yes to everything she asked. She’d been shocked by electric currents before, and that’s exactly what happened now, the charged air between them zapping the breath from her lungs. Leaving the bedroom lights off, he covered the distance to the back door in four steps, then walked out into the rain.
6
A DAM TOOK THE steps two at a time, water splashing up from the depressions worn into the hundred-year-old marble blocks each time he planted his foot. He arrived at the front door of the Walkers Ford library just as Alana, in a long coat and scarf, struggled to unlock the front door with one hand while balancing two cardboard shipping boxes and a tote in the other. “Let me help you with those,” he said.
“Thanks so much,” she said, and offloaded the boxes and tote into his waiting arms. A plastic container of hummus and another of sliced carrots and celery peeked out from the top of her tote. Lunch, or maybe a morning snack, and not purchased at Walkers Ford’s lone grocery store. Based on the weight and her occupation, the boxes held books.
Sheltered from the rain by the portico, she struggled with the lock for a few seconds, jiggling both the handle and the key before it gave way. She stepped through and held the door wide open for him. Large windows let in enough of the day’s gloom for him to find the circulation desk and set down the boxes while she went to the bank of switches and turned on the lights.
“That’s better,” she said with satisfaction. “I was ready for biting cold and snow when I moved here, but not for weeks of rain with no end in sight.”
“Give it five minutes and the weather will change,” he said, repeating the old saw about weather on the high plains.
“I’ve been giving it five minutes for ten days straight. So far, that adage holds only rainwater,” she replied, her voice more amused than irritated as she adjusted the temperature. Under his feet the furnace whirred to life. She walked to the circulation desk, absently adjusting a display of children’s books as she moved through the big,
“How do you know I’m not?”
“I don’t. This isn’t a command, Ris. I’m asking a favor. Say no if you can’t. I’ll figure it out on my own. I just . . . wanted company.”
Something vibrated under the words, but she couldn’t think with him so close, so she pushed against his chest. He leaned back a few inches, but she harbored no illusions she’d moved him. He’d moved for her, and having that powerful body at her command struck at a very feminine place inside.
“I’m not going to sleep with you again.”
Big words when she was still half-naked and close enough to feel the heat of his erection against her belly, but she had to retain some measure of self-protection here. She chose bed partners without much regard for rules or convention, but something dark and dangerous occasionally breathed fire under Adam’s steel-hard exterior. He had the power to annihilate her. He’d done it before.
“Fine,” he said. He took one step back, all he could do in the tiny bathroom, giving her enough space to struggle back into her layers of shirts. In just seconds she was too warm, the first time that had happened in who knew how long.
“When?” she asked through her tightly closed throat.
“Tomorrow?”
An excuse to put off doing what she had to do, and no small sense of relief washed through her. When she nodded, he added, “I found a couple of apartment complexes online, and a few other rentals in the older parts of town. I’ll pick you up around nine.”
“Okay.”
“Just so you know . . . if you change your mind, ask anytime.” He bent forward and kissed her, soft, hot temptation personified, before he stepped back. “I won’t say no.”
An image flashed bright on the movie screen of her mind: Adam, in her bed, saying yes to everything she asked. She’d been shocked by electric currents before, and that’s exactly what happened now, the charged air between them zapping the breath from her lungs. Leaving the bedroom lights off, he covered the distance to the back door in four steps, then walked out into the rain.
6
A DAM TOOK THE steps two at a time, water splashing up from the depressions worn into the hundred-year-old marble blocks each time he planted his foot. He arrived at the front door of the Walkers Ford library just as Alana, in a long coat and scarf, struggled to unlock the front door with one hand while balancing two cardboard shipping boxes and a tote in the other. “Let me help you with those,” he said.
“Thanks so much,” she said, and offloaded the boxes and tote into his waiting arms. A plastic container of hummus and another of sliced carrots and celery peeked out from the top of her tote. Lunch, or maybe a morning snack, and not purchased at Walkers Ford’s lone grocery store. Based on the weight and her occupation, the boxes held books.
Sheltered from the rain by the portico, she struggled with the lock for a few seconds, jiggling both the handle and the key before it gave way. She stepped through and held the door wide open for him. Large windows let in enough of the day’s gloom for him to find the circulation desk and set down the boxes while she went to the bank of switches and turned on the lights.
“That’s better,” she said with satisfaction. “I was ready for biting cold and snow when I moved here, but not for weeks of rain with no end in sight.”
“Give it five minutes and the weather will change,” he said, repeating the old saw about weather on the high plains.
“I’ve been giving it five minutes for ten days straight. So far, that adage holds only rainwater,” she replied, her voice more amused than irritated as she adjusted the temperature. Under his feet the furnace whirred to life. She walked to the circulation desk, absently adjusting a display of children’s books as she moved through the big,
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