[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

man. Sarah remembered her father speaking often of the bruises the boys carried while they were
younger, and how they had changed after old man Joe had sent them off to foster on another ranch one
year. Not too much time had passed before the rumors started. How the men, young even then, would
become attracted to the same woman. They would pursue her, seduce her, share her among them.
The women they chose were experienced enough to enjoy such play, but they were also gossips,
relishing in the shocked gasps their tales brought. Sarah s father had been sympathetic, but she
remembered several occasions when he had warned her to steer clear of their interest.
They were sinfully handsome. Dark, lusty, so sexy it made a woman s heart beat fast just to look at
them. Sighing deeply, denying the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes, she looked around the dimly
lit kitchen. She was home, and she was alone. Brock was gone.
 Goodbye, she whispered to the empty room, and she wondered if she were saying goodbye to the
man, or to a young girl s empty dreams.
* * * * *
Work. She worked because she wanted to. Because she enjoyed it. The inheritance her father had left
her on his death had been hidden from Mark, thanks to her father s careful planning, rather than her own.
Her mother s portion had been all Mark had known about. Unknown to her ex-husband, she wasn t as
broke as he believed she was.
The library afforded her a peace, a solitude in what she did, and there were rarely any hassles. Until
today. Brock August sat casually at one of the front desks, a newspaper spread in front of him, his eyes
watching her possessively. His dark lashes lay at half-mast, the gray-blue orbs watching her with a hint of
promise, or threat. She wasn t certain which. He was too handsome, with his long black hair laying
almost to his shoulders, and disheveled from the repeated times his fingers had run through it. Each time
she saw the gesture she was reminded of the countless times she had run her fingers through those silken
strands as well.
He had been there most of the day. She refused to speak to him and he didn t speak to her. If curious
patrons approached him, they quickly left. It made Sarah nervous, the way he watched her. He had seen
her naked, had heard her screams, and it was there in every look he gave her.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Closing time came, and still he sat there. Everyone else was gone, the library deserted, the door sign
posted.
 It s time to leave, Mr. August. Sarah kept her voice polite, low.  You re making me run late.
He folded his paper carefully.
 Have dinner with me. His voice was silky, carefully covering the underlying thread of sensuality. He
wasn t fooling her for a minute.
 Not tonight. I have things to do.
 Like what? He tilted his head questioningly.
 Oh, I don t know. She shrugged.  Walk my dog 
 You don t have a dog.
 Feed my cat 
 Sarah, you don t have a cat. And his patience was wearing thin if the tone of his voice was any
indication.
 Clean the basement? She gave him a wide-eyed innocent look. She wasn t about to go anywhere with
him, not until she was a little less weak. A little less needy for his touch.
 Why are you so scared of me? Do you think I d hurt you, Sarah? He leaned forward in his chair,
watching her quietly.
His eyes. Shadows twisted in them, sadness a permanent part of their murky depths. Why couldn t she
get past wanting to erase the pain in his eyes?
 I think you could destroy me, Brock, she answered him honestly. There was no point in lying.  I ve
spent six years paying for one mistake. I don t want to pay for another.
 And I waited for six years for you to admit to wanting me. His voice lowered, husky and filled with
desires she didn t even want to guess at.  I don t want to settle for just one night, Sarah.
She couldn t hold his gaze. Pain seized her heart when she saw the wanting in his eyes, the bleak
acceptance that she was turning him away.
 One night is all I had to give, Brock, she whispered, standing stiff. Still.
He sighed roughly, dragging his hands through his hair in a gesture of frustration.
 I won t accept that. You won t even let me explain, Sarah. There are things you don t know.
 And they won t change my mind. She didn t want to know why she wanted to weep at the expression
in his eyes.  I told you. It s more than I can handle. If I had known you waited for me. If I had known
what you wanted from me. I wouldn t have gone to that bar.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
 Then I would have come to you. He rose from his chair, stepping close, ignoring her when she stepped
back nervously.  I was tired of waiting, Sarah.
 I was married. You didn t even know about the divorce. Censure edged her words, despite her
determination to hold it inside.
He smiled, a small, crooked little quirk of his lips that broke her heart. That was his smile, and there was
no joy in the gesture. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]