Familiar Stranger. Шарон СалаЧитать онлайн книгу.
get up.”
She shrugged. “I was trying to be quiet. You were sleeping so soundly I thought you must need the rest.”
“That’s beside the point,” David said. “There were lots of days and nights I went without sleep and I still stayed alert. It made the difference in my ever seeing another sunrise.”
She cupped his face with her hands. “Yes, but that was when you were in danger, right?”
“Yes.”
“So…subconsciously, you knew there was nothing here to fear. End of story. Now come sit down. Breakfast is almost done.”
She was right, and the answer was so simple, he didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to him first. Maybe he’d spent too much of his life in hiding to be able to do this normal-guy stuff.
“Need any help?” he asked.
“No, but thanks.”
He took a seat, thinking he couldn’t remember the last time he sat down to a meal with flowers on the table. Then he saw the basket of hot blueberry muffins and his heart skipped a beat. He felt Cara’s hand on the back of his neck.
He looked at her. She was smiling.
“You remembered,” he said softly.
“How could I forget,” Cara said, and then brushed a brief kiss across his mouth. “We had breakfast together at Flanders’ Deli the morning you left for basic training. I was so mad at you and I still came to say goodbye.”
David sighed, unwilling to think about the negative aspects of their parting. “It was blueberry muffins with some kind of sugary stuff on top.”
“Streusel. It’s called streusel.”
David touched the corner of her mouth. “You had it stuck right here.”
Cara smiled. “And you removed it with your tongue. Caused quite a scene there in the deli, as I recall.” Then she frowned. “Someone told my parents. When I got home, there was the proverbial hell to pay.”
“Sorry,” David said.
“I’m not. Even though they’ve been gone for several years, after knowing what they did to us, David, I don’t think I can ever forgive them.”
“Holding on to grudges isn’t healthy,” he said, thinking of Frank. “Let’s just focus on here and now.”
Cara sensed he was alluding to more than what her parents had done, because that dark look was back in his eyes. Determined not to talk about anything negative, she handed him a muffin and made herself smile.
“Start on that while I get the rest of our food.”
The bread was warm against his palm, and when he broke it open, the scent of sugar and blueberries made him feel like a kid of sixteen all over again. Ignoring the butter and jam, he took a big bite, savoring the taste as well as the thought behind it.
“What do you think?” Cara asked as she set a plate of bacon and scrambled eggs at his place.
He swallowed. “I think Ray Justice was a damned lucky man.”
At first, the mention of her deceased husband was startling, until she began to accept the compliment in the manner in which it had been made. She smiled.
“Why, David…what a genuinely dear thing to say.”
He arched an eyebrow. “I have my moments.”
She laughed and then went to get her own food, leaving David with the sound of her laughter echoing in his ears and the knowledge that whatever happened later, he’d been right in coming.
They finished their meal in near silence, each absorbed in the simple wonder of sharing food. For Cara, the whole experience seemed surreal. Day before yesterday, David Wilson was a heartache from her past, and now he was sitting in her house, at her table, eating the food that she’d prepared. But this David was nothing like the boy who’d left her behind. He was hard and secretive and rarely smiled. She wanted her old David back. Not only that, she wanted more—so much more. But she kept remembering an old saying about being careful of what you wished for. Her life was settled. If he stayed, could she live with a man with so many secrets—a man who had to wear himself out physically to be able to rest? She sighed. God help them both, because she had never wanted anything so much in her life and she was afraid she wouldn’t be up to the task.
David got up to pour himself another cup of coffee.
“Want a refill?” he asked.
“No, I’ve had enough.”
Her words wrapped around his senses, reminding him that he would never have enough of her. The smile he’d been wearing stopped at the corner of his mouth as he sat the cup down on the counter, unfilled. Then he walked across the room, pulled her up from her chair and into his arms.
“You sure?” he asked, his voice husky with promise.
She smiled. “Maybe I was a little hasty.”
“If you come back to the bedroom with me, we can take all the time you need to decide.”
A shiver of longing rolled through her as she slid her arms around his neck.
“The way I’m feeling right now, it won’t take any time at all.”
A rare smile broke the somberness of his face as he scooped her up in his arms.
“I can walk,” she said, as he carried her down the hall.
He laid her on the bed and then crawled on top of her, straddling her legs. There was a gleam in his eye as he began to undress her.
“Tell me that again afterward,” he said.
Breath caught in the back of her throat as his hands tugged her shirt from the waistband of her slacks. From where she was lying, he seemed indomitable. And then he leaned forward and centered his mouth across her lips. She moaned.
He leaned even closer, his mouth against her ear as he whispered something dark and promising that sent her sense of self into a tailspin. Could she do something like that—even with a man she loved?
Clothes came off, flying in every direction.
Her slacks.
His shorts.
Her bra.
His shirt.
When there was nothing left between them but his promises, he turned her over on her stomach.
Cara shivered as his hands encircled her ankles. After that, nothing in her life would ever be the same.
Cara stepped out of the shower to find David waiting on her. She smiled slowly, gazing her fill of his strong, naked body and the look in his eyes.
David returned her grin as he wrapped her in a towel.
“What?” he asked.
“It would have been an absolute tragedy if I’d lived my whole life without experiencing that.”
The corner of his mouth tilted, but not much. “That, as you call it, is one of the most interesting pages of the Kama Sutra.”
“Oh? And here I thought you’d learned that from some Mata Hari type during your world travels.”
“Hell, honey, it wasn’t a James Bond type of life, I can tell you that. I could count the number of women I’ve slept with in the last twenty years on one hand and have fingers left over.”
“Oh, I wasn’t speaking from jealousy,” Cara said. “Quite the reverse. I was going to suggest that if I’m ever with you and you see any of those women again, please introduce me.”
“Why?”
“I want to thank them for whatever they added to your expertise.”