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Where Dreams Begin

Page 33

by Phoebe Conn


  “Is this all there is to it?” he asked.

  “Not really. The wind can shift and send a kite right into the ground, or into a tree. The power lines are buried underground up here, but usually they pose a threat too. Then, if there are others flying kites, your string can become tangled in theirs and send both kites plunging to earth.

  “Depending on the wind conditions, flying a kite can be frustrating, or like today, just plain fun. Let it go up as high as you’d like, but remember you’ll have to rewind all the string when you bring it down.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind. Why don’t you come here and try it?”

  Here we go, Darcy thought, but the prospect of having him wrapped around her wasn’t all that unappealing. She moved to his side and gradually took control of the string. To her infinite dismay, however, he stepped back out of her way.

  “Now, tell me why you need a studio,” she prompted, as much to distract herself as to discover his intentions.

  Griffin moved up behind her and began to rub her shoulders. “You look rather stiff. Does this feel good?”

  His touch was light but sure and incredibly soothing. “Christy Joy said you’d have great hands.”

  “Did she?” Griffin chuckled.

  Darcy hadn’t meant to pay the compliment out loud. “Please don’t tell her I said that.”

  “I’m going to be tempted, but maybe we can work out something.”

  “Do you expect a bribe?” Darcy felt a strong tug on the string and released a bit more. The kite was way out over the bluff now and dancing against the sun.

  Griffin leaned down and nibbled her right ear. “Stay for dinner. I bought a roasted chicken. You eat those, don’t you?”

  Darcy felt his breath on her cheek and couldn’t recall his question. “Chicken?” she mumbled numbly.

  Griffin kissed her left ear lightly. “Yes, do you like them?”

  He was wrapped around her now, and as snugly as she had imagined—no, hoped. She relaxed against him, and he began to trace teasing circles around the tip of her left breast with his right hand, while his left crept slowly down her stomach toward the sweet spot between her legs. His hips were pressed against her back, and there was no mistaking the intensity of his desire.

  “This is what you had in mind all along, isn’t it?” she nearly moaned.

  “Do you blame me?”

  Darcy dipped her head. She supposed this was simply his usual routine. He would be in town for a few days to give a concert, and if he wanted to connect with a woman, he would waste no time in going about it. Even better than a sailor with a girl in every port, she bet he had women all around the world eagerly awaiting his return.

  “Darcy? What was his name?”

  Startled, Darcy turned to look up at him. “Whose name?”

  “The man who broke your heart.”

  Enfolded in his embrace, Darcy could not recall any of the other men she’d known. “Griffin Moore,” she breathed out softly.

  Let a terrorist take her? Not over his dead body and damned soul…

  Collateral Damage

  © 2010 J.L. Saint

  Silent Warrior, Book 1

  One thing makes Jack Hunter invaluable to his Delta Force Team. The same trait that makes him suck at relationships. Single-minded focus on his career—and honing his ability to never miss a kill.

  After a terrorist missile devastates his team and leaves him with only partial memory of a FUBARed rescue mission, he retains only one clear picture no one believes: the last face in his gunsight belonged to a prestigious American businessman. The man’s wife has to know something, but the only way to get to her is go AWOL.

  After her husband trades his family to tango with double-Ds, Lauren Collins decides her dogs are better judges of character. She’s unaware how far her soon-to-be-ex’s web of deceit reaches—until the only thing between her, her sons and a killer is a wounded Delta soldier who activates her sorely neglected X-chromosome like nobody’s business.

  Their instant attraction is kryptonite to Jack’s injury-dulled edge. Thrust into a world of peril, political treachery and treason, Lauren has no choice but to trust Jack with her life. Even if she and her sons survive, she’s not sure her heart will…

  Warning: Contains a warrior who doesn’t hesitate to lay his body on the line, more than one emotional love story to tug at your heart, and chaos at Chuck E. Cheese.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Collateral Damage:

  “Come in to the bathroom and let me clean you up, then we both can relax,” she said past the emotion clogging her throat. What almost happened was still too fresh in her mind for her to be anything but overwhelmed.

  “I can do it.” He stood, coming so close to her that she had to take a step back. His nostrils flared as he inhaled sharply. He searched her gaze for a moment as if trying to assess her mood.

  “So can I, and right now I need to make sure you’re all right more than you need to be Mr. Invincible.” She marched to the bathroom and pointed to the closed commode, determined to ignore the effects of his close proximity on her senses. “Sit.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked up as he sat. “What’s next? The Terminator?”

  “Sponge Bob Square Pants,” she said briskly as she turned on the water.

  He snorted and winced. “Can we stick with Superman?”

  “Depends on how cooperative you are, Dudley Do Right.” More like Studly Do Right.

  He laughed, then groaned. “Okay. You win. Just don’t make me laugh again. No more torture.”

  She opened the first-aid kit and he reached for the Ibuprofen, downing a handful of them before pulling off his stained T-shirt. The bathroom shrank to the size of a pea pod, a very warm pea pod. And the torture had just begun because ignoring him and the effect of his chiseled in stone physique became impossible. His every muscle was perfectly defined, supple and vibrant with life. Thank God for that.

  This man had put his life on the line for their country numerous times. And he’d put everything on the line for her without question.

  Taking the wash cloth, she gently cleansed away the dried blood then dabbed some antibiotic ointment to his wound and left it open to air at his insistence. She turned her attention to cleaning his neck and chest as well, lingering more than she had a right to, but unable to stop herself from relishing every touch. A touch he was clearly far from indifferent to, a reaction that filled her even more with want, with need, with excitement. He seemingly watched her every move with his heated gaze, but then she swore he’d stared at her mouth, her breasts, her sex so long that it was a wonder she didn’t burst into flames.

  She surprised herself on how quickly she finished, then again, he had a way of warping her perception of time. It could have been five minutes, it could have been fifty, whatever it was, it wasn’t enough. She wanted more of him, needed to give more to him in so many ways.

  That bullet had shot to hell any barriers or pretensions, leaving a raw need that only he could fill. She slid her palm against his hard-edged jaw and eased his gaze up to hers. His skin had become burning hot, his pulse raced beneath her finger tips, and his respirations had quickened considerably. “Are you sure you don’t need the hospital?”

  “The hospital is the last thing I need right now.” His voice was like sandpaper, made her feel raw, vulnerable and that much more needy. He placed his hand against her hers and turned to brush his lips to the inside of her wrist. The simmering desire between them flared white hot and burned a path all the way to her core. She shivered with excitement. The connection between them was one that only a near-death incident could forge.

  Her mouth went dry and she searched hard for the right thing to say to him. Her heart was so full, her need so great. She met his gaze. “I don’t know that I’ve thanked you enough. For being there yesterday. Today. For keeping my sons safe. For keeping me alive.”

  He started to shake his head and she stopped him. “Let me finish. I want to thank you for what
you’ve done every day, for the years that you’ve been there doing what has to be done so I can live the life I live. It means more than I can express or ever repay.”

  He exhaled. “Lauren, sometimes it’s a job, sometimes it’s more than that. It’s everything I believe. But right now it sure as hell isn’t—”

  She pressed her finger to his lips, halting his words. “That being said, I want you to know this has nothing whatsoever to do with gratitude and everything to do with what’s in my heart.” She planted her mouth on his, ready to start this kiss where their kiss last night had ended.

 

 

 


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