Forbidden Lovers. Kimberley TroutteЧитать онлайн книгу.
What in the hell? He hadn’t meant to say that. He ignored his feelings 99 percent of the time. Julia could pull his inner thoughts out of him in a way no one could.
“Really?” The mix of compassion, sorrow and longing on her face made him want to demand answers.
I did have someone, but you gave up on us. Why’d you stop loving me?
He ground his teeth. She wasn’t going to see him fall apart. They were past that now. Instead, he opened the side door and stepped into his favorite place in the mansion—the kitchen. As a kid, he’d sought solace here when his parents were fighting. The kitchen ladies had made growing up a Harper bearable.
“Evening, ladies,” he called out.
Donna, his favorite chef of all time, was using a scary-looking knife to slice large barbecued tri-tips. “Busy here.”
The other staff members were plating appetizers and refreshing the cheese and fruit displays.
“Just passing through.” He snagged a chunk of hard cheese and two glasses of champagne. “Sustenance.” Breaking off a piece of cheese, he fed it to Julia. “Need your strength to keep up with me on the dance floor.”
She chewed, and swallowed a sip of champagne. “You said dancing was for women.”
“That’s what I was taught, but I picked up some moves.”
“I’d like to see them.”
“You will.” He laced his fingers with her empty hand and led her down the hall toward the music. “I’m going to use them all tonight, sweetheart.”
* * *
Oh, mama.
She wanted to learn a few moves from this smoking hot man. Okay, all the moves.
She’d only slept with one man—Matt Harper. And calling him a man was laughable. He’d been seventeen and she’d started to wonder if she’d ever have hot sex with a grown man. At this time in her life she didn’t need a husband, or anything long-term. Where would a man squeeze in between her son, her family, school, animal activism and her budding career? No one should feel like he was the last priority on her list.
But, heaven help her, she missed passion. And being touched. Sheesh, when Captain whispered in her ear and touched her cheek, she’d all but combusted. When he’d fed her and laced his fingers with hers, she felt...cherished.
Which was a big batch of crazy mole. A man she’d just met couldn’t adore her like Matt had.
Captain was a hot pilot who’d happened to land on her doorstep. For tonight only. He was a good choice for a few hours of passion, no doubt about it. As long as she kept her memories from jumping out right and left to attack her heart. The bike, the garden where they used to walk hand in hand, the gazebo where she’d received her first kiss... Matt was everywhere.
The first year after he’d died, she’d seen him in every guy’s face, every swagger. She’d heard him calling her at night and would run outside in her pajamas to find an empty yard. It had taken a long time to get control of her desperate imagination and yet here it was bringing Matt along on the first real date she’d had in years. It wasn’t fair to her date or to her.
How could she tell Captain he walked like her old boyfriend? Sort of smelled like him. And his voice, although deeper, had the same cadence. When he touched her cheek, she’d closed her eyes and Captain was Matt. Gah! She couldn’t tell him that.
The only difference was the way he drove the motorcycle. Matt would’ve taken those curves faster and leaned in like he was one with the machine. This guy was far too safe on the bike for her liking.
But she did like him. He was sexy, strong, gentle...and did she say sexy? Plus, when he’d admitted he didn’t have anyone, her heart had puddled in her chest. Her instincts were to reach out and pull him under her wing like she did all strays. She sensed a deep sadness in him. Maybe because she was sad, too.
If she had a hot man to heat up her sheets for a while, maybe she could forget about the deep chasm in her heart that refused to heal. Captain was just here for a few days. She couldn’t keep him. No, this connection with him was about one hot night.
I’m definitely going to learn his moves.
“Ready to be blown away?” he asked, his hand on a door handle.
The sounds of music and people were coming from the other side of that door. She knew what she’d see when he opened it—the grand hall. The last time she’d been in there she’d danced with Matt during his seventeenth birthday party. Well, she was dancing and he was crunching her toes. She’d had to throw her sandals away after the party. Bruised toes and broken shoes hadn’t mattered one bit because that night he’d told her he loved her.
Pressure built behind her eyes. No. Stop. Matt is gone.
“Julia?”
She let out a deep breath and fixed her harlot blouse. “Show me what you’ve got, Captain.”
“That’s my girl.” He threw the doors open wide.
“The music’s getting loud downstairs.” RW poured champagne into a crystal flute and handed it to Angel. “To you, my darling.”
She clinked her glass with his water bottle. “To second chances.”
He’d toast to that. She was his second chance, even if she didn’t want to be. Couldn’t be because she was his therapist. He’d never known what it felt like for someone to understand him, to see his inner demons and not run away.
Angel had saved his life, plain and simple, and now she pushed him toward the final phase of his therapy. Together they had hatched up an intricate plan designed to heal all the wounds created by his illness. He didn’t think the plan would work, but for her, he would try.
After her first sip she asked, “Did they all come?”
“Chloe and Jeffrey arrived this morning. I haven’t seen Matthew yet, but the staff tells me he’s around. I’m waiting for him to make his presence known.” RW tried to relax his fist. He was holding his bottle too tightly. The veins in his neck were pounding. “I’m sure however he chooses to arrive, it will be a showstopper.”
“Give him time. He’ll come around.”
“Maybe. He’s a Harper, after all. We’re all a bit bullheaded.”
“Don’t I know it.” She winked at him. Playful and sweet. He’d be lost without this woman.
“You’ve changed me. You see that now, don’t you?”
She eyed him. “Well, you do look as handsome as a pirate.”
Not what he meant. He wanted to press her, ask if she’d thought about his offer again. But his instincts said to wait and give her time to consider it. Consider them.
She drank the last of her champagne and put the glass on the marble table. “All right, pirate. Go down to your party. Just remember the plan. It’ll work.”
“What if it happens again?” He swallowed hard, not wanting to remember how he used to be, unable to stop.
She put a cool hand on his. “It won’t.”
When she smiled up at him, the gnawing, twisting thing in his gut eased. She was the only one who could calm him. With her by his side, he dared to believe he was ready to put the plan in motion and call his children home. He touched her bare shoulder with the back of his knuckle. God, she was so soft, so perfect. “Will you stay?”
“I shouldn’t.”
“Why?