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His for the Taking. Ann MajorЧитать онлайн книгу.

His for the Taking - Ann Major


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should he? He’d come here to find her, hadn’t he?

      Slowly she dipped a rag—no, it was her T-shirt—into the water and squeezed it so tightly that rivulets of sparkling liquid showered her throat and breasts.

      “Ah, nothing like icy water on a hot day,” she purred huskily as she put the T-shirt back into the pool and dripped more fluid diamonds over her body. “I was burning up.”

      The dog was panting hard. Cole was burning up, too, but his condition wasn’t entirely due to the heat.

      Erect, spellbound, he watched as the blade of grass got caught in the currents of water tracing down her smooth, gleaming belly before sliding down to her navel. When a slender fingertip plucked it off her skin, heat shot through Cole. His sex, hot and hard, swelled painfully against tight denim. When Cinnamon walked onto the dam and shook water all over Maddie, she screamed even as she giggled.

      “You are all dog,” she said huskily, but she laughed, teasing the mongrel rather than chastising him.

      Damn her to hell and back for being so gorgeous and unnervingly sexy. She seemed sweet, too, just as she always had—the very essence of everything feminine.

      But looks could deceive.

      Even though he knew what she was, memories of the first time she’d lain with him struck him full force.

      She’d been flushed and naked as she’d whispered she loved him and always would. She had begged him to take her.

      He’d kissed her throat and stroked her hair. “Are you sure about this?”

      “No matter what happens, I want it to be you…who’s first, I mean.”

      For a long time, his hands had skimmed over her body, touching her, caressing her. She’d been so innocent and so infinitely precious to him.

      Determined not to hurt her, he’d been gentle and patient even though his youthful hormones had been raging. Hell, he’d even told her he loved her, too. Worse—he’d meant it.

      Don’t think about it.

      But how could he forget how tight she’d been, or how she’d held her breath so long after he’d entered her, she’d scared the hell out of him?

      “Are you okay?” he’d whispered.

      “Better than okay.” When she’d pressed her soft mouth to his throat she’d sent him over the edge. He’d apologized, but she’d begun to kiss him again, and he’d hardened inside her almost instantly.

      “I’ve had a crush on you for years,” she’d said. “I just never thought you could care for someone like me.”

      “Well, I do.”

      “Sometimes I still have to pinch myself so I know I’m not dreaming.”

      Now, determined to push the bittersweet memories aside and regain control, he counted slowly…backward from one hundred to zero. Long before he reached zero, more memories bombarded him, each one sweeter than the last. Then he couldn’t count, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but feel his testosterone-engorged body thicken.

      More than anything, he wanted to touch her warm, velvet skin, to taste her sweet lips…just one more time. Maybe once he was sated, he would be rational enough to remember how shabbily she’d treated him.

      As if she sensed him, she slid into the water, screaming because it was so cold, and then swam away from the dam, leaving a trail of graceful ripples flashing in her wake.

      Instead of listening to the voice of reason that told him not to play with fire, he strode down to the bank and stood above her in the long shadows of the cypress trees, watching her swim, willing her to turn and face him.

      When she did, her face whitened with shock. “Cole! What are you doing here?”

      The alarm in her slanting blue-violet eyes cut him to the quick. But still his tone was hard when he said, “I heard you were chasing Cinnamon on my land, so I came looking for you.”

      When her exotic face went even whiter, his own craven desire made his gut clench.

      Without another word, she dived underneath the water and swam as far away from him as she could. When she finally came up, she crossed her hands over her breasts and scrambled behind the nearest rock. “I—I didn’t mean to bother you!” she began, blushing furiously as she gasped for breath. “If I’d known you were in town—I would never have come here! Your brother, Adam…He told me you wouldn’t be back anytime soon. I swear he did!”

      “Didn’t you see the No Swimming signs? A kid nearly drowned here a couple of years ago, after a flood. Cinnamon is not worth risking your pretty neck by swimming here alone.”

      “Okay. I won’t do it again. If you’ll just leave, I’ll dress and go.”

      “The last thing I want is you dressed and gone.”

      The stark look of terror reappeared in her eyes. “Don’t start!” she whispered. “Please—”

      The shame and fear in her frantic gaze tore at his heart. He remembered how sensitive she’d been on the subject of her mother and how shy she’d always been about sexual matters, especially in the beginning. But she’d never been this skittish. Suddenly he wished he could take back the suggestive comment.

      “Somebody told me a while back that you’re a mother now…that you have a little boy…”

      Her violet-blue eyes widened with even more fear. Why?

      “I just meant that as a mother, you shouldn’t take unnecessary risks—like swimming here alone.”

      “My son is no concern of yours!” Her voice was high and thin. “You made that very clear—”

      “When did we ever discuss your son?”

      “What?” She seemed to catch herself. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. I saw your signs. It’s just that I’m upset because you startled me. I shouldn’t have gotten in the water without a buddy. If you’ll just leave, I’ll get out, dress and go. Like I said.” She had begun to shiver, and her lips were blue.

      “You can swim as long as you like…now that I’m here to watch over you.”

      “I don’t want you here watching over me.” Her teeth were chattering.

      “Right.” He set his hot, insolent gaze on her.

      “Cole, I’m…I’m freezing. If…you won’t go, would you please turn your back so I…can get out and dress?”

      “Okay, already.” Halfheartedly, he turned his back.

      Not trusting him, she hesitated. A moment or two later, he heard water splash on limestone, followed by the whisper of damp feet on grass and the breaking of twigs as she scampered across the rocks to retrieve her clothes.

      When a low curse escaped her lips, he turned out of concern and was rewarded with another glimpse of her tantalizing breasts and thighs. His breath hitched as she struggled to push her slim arms through the knotted sleeves of her wet, tangled T-shirt. Absorbed in pulling on her jeans, she didn’t look up and see that he couldn’t take his tortured eyes off her.

      When she’d fastened her cutoffs, she looked up. “You cheated,” she said.

      “Sorry.”

      “I guess I shouldn’t wonder, since you’ll always think I’m the kind of girl who doesn’t deserve your respect.” With an indignant frown she leaned down and secured the now-docile Cinnamon with a leash.

      “Damn,” he muttered, feeling guilty as well as angry.

      That she could chastise him, for anything, when she’d jilted him for Turner, was gallingly unfair.

      “Don’t worry. I won’t presume to trespass on your land again,” she


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