Part 46 (2/2)

Cold Target Patricia Potter 43750K 2022-07-22

He opened the packet he'd purchased, then moved next to her, stroking her skin, then leaning down to kiss her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Jolts of electricity ran through her.

This time he entered her with tantalizing deliberation. Every sane thought dissolved as he proceeded with maddening slowness, each movement arousing sensations that made her clasp him with her legs, pulling him deeper and deeper inside. Heat flooded her as they moved together. Pleasure rolled through her like rumbles of thunder, each wave more powerful than the one before as momentum mounted, and she was lost in one great storm of flas.h.i.+ng lightning and bursts of splendor.

*Chapter Twenty-four*

'BISBEE'.

Holly sat on the porch with Doug Menelo. The sky was a very dark blue and it appeared that a million stars were blinking down at them.

She'd never seen so many stars in New Orleans. City lights and smog diffused them.

But here there was no smog and few lights. The stars reigned in all their glory. A few lacy clouds paid court.

Fanciful thoughts. But she was full of fancy these days. Hope had replaced fear.

Harry was inside, sleeping. Doug had stopped over to fix a leak in the kitchen water pipes. She was beginning to rely more and more on him, even as a voice inside told her how dangerous it was.

The night they went to the movie, they'd returned to a rain shower and a leak in the roof. He'd fixed it the next day, along with some sagging steps.

It had been a natural progression of a relations.h.i.+p she'd not been able to end. She liked his company too much. She liked the way he made her feel, as if she were someone of importance. He was funny and kind and decent to the core. He was also straightforward.

She longed to discard the gla.s.ses she didn't need, to add a touch more of makeup, to forget the dye that made her hair so unmemorable. She wanted to look nice for him, not because she wanted to impress his friends, but because he made her feel more than she was.

She couldn't do that. Still, he liked the plain person she'd tried so hard to make herself into.

”Thanks for fixing the leak,” she said.

”Thanks for the beef stew. It was terrific.”

Pleasure flooded her. She had never cooked much until she'd left New Orleans. There had always been someone else to do it. She found a new joy in finding recipes and experimenting.

This recipe had been in a local fund-raising recipe book, and she'd added just a touch of red wine to it. It had been, she'd told herself, the least she could do when he was repairing things.

They'd had the rest of the wine with the meal although she had only sipped at one gla.s.s. She couldn't afford to get giddy.

She knew she shouldn't invite his attentions. She kept reminding herself that he was a lawman and she was an outlaw. But every time she vowed she wouldn't see him again, something happened that drew them together. And she didn't want to deprive Harry of his Sat.u.r.day horseback rides.

That was the excuse she kept giving herself.

But she was getting in deeper and deeper. She had watched him as he'd fixed the leak. He stretched out on the floor, the taut muscled arms visible with his sleeves rolled up. She couldn't imagine Randolph fixing anything. Except an election.

And every time Doug looked at her with those dark eyes, her heart skipped in response....

”A quarter for your thoughts,” he said.

”They're probably not worth more than that penny.”

”Let me be the judge of that.”

”It's just... everything is so lovely out here. Quiet. I've never seen so many stars before.”

”You fit this land.”

She glanced at him. ”Why?”

”It's always taken courage to move and resettle, particularly alone. And a resilience.” He looked embarra.s.sed as he faltered for a moment. ”There's a lot of strength in you.”

Strength? She'd always been the weakest person she knew. She had allowed herself to be molded by her mother, then used by her father and her husband. She'd been reading a lot about abuse. She realized now that she had been emotionally abused for years. And she had allowed it to happen.

”I wish you were right.”

He was silent for a moment. ”If you ever need to talk ... I'm a good listener.”

Her gaze met his. Her heart caught. He was saying something else altogether. He knew something was wrong. He was offering his help. How she wanted to grab it!

”I'll remember that,” she forced herself to reply lightly.

He sighed and his hand reached over and clasped hers. ”I'm good at fixing things.” It was obvious that he didn't mean pipes or roofs.

But he couldn't ”fix” her problem, not without getting involved. Her husband and father wouldn't hesitate to destroy him. Or even kill him if he got in their way, as she had. And then what would happen to Jenny?

A s.h.i.+ver ran through her. He pulled her to him and put his arm around her. Then he leaned over and his lips brushed against hers. She'd never had a kiss like it. Gentle. Tender. Persuasive.

She couldn't.

She had killed a man, no matter the reason. She was married to a murderer. A very powerful one.

She pulled away. ”I'm sorry....”

”Liz?”

”It's too soon. It's much too soon,” she babbled. She wanted him so badly. She wanted his touch, his embrace. She wanted to love and be loved.

He was watching her closely. Then he stood. ”I'm sorry, too. I took too much for granted.” His voice wasn't angry. Just sad.

”I... I...” She shook her head, turned and ran inside. She didn't want him to see the tears, the anguish of wanting what he was so openly offering.

”Liz?” He stood in the doorway.

She swallowed past the enormous lump in her throat. ”Please go,” she said.

He was a large shadow in the doorway. He gave her a quirky smile that was part puzzlement, part hurt. Well, she had led him on. Even cooked a meal for him. What did she expect him to think?

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