Sinfully Sexy (21 page)
Authors: Linda Francis Lee
Tags: #Romance, #Sex in the workplace, #Fiction
"Kiss me," he said this time.
She realized that he was intentionally letting her be in control. He
was revising her beliefs about sex. About love-making.
A thrill ran through her as this time she bent down and pressed her
lips to his.
"Do you like that?" he murmured, his hands lightly holding her.
"Yes," she breathed.
She cupped his face, relishing the feel as she brushed her mouth over
his. He groaned, but still didn't force her to go faster. He took what
she gave at the pace she wanted to give it.
She pulled away slightly and he simply stroked her back, up and down, a
slow glide of his palm over
her robe.
They were locked in this small world of their own making. She felt safe
and cared for.
"I'm going to kiss you now," he said.
He gave her a second to resist, then he gently pulled her head to his.
The contact was light and brief, a fleeting touch, there and gone, then
back again, a hint of what she knew he could give.
A moan escaped her, and she whispered, "More. Please."
He obliged. His mouth captured hers, a shudder running through his
hard, chiseled body as his tongue gently traced the seam between her
lips. No pressure, but making her want. She opened to him, and
when he parted her robe and she felt his skin against her abdomen bared
by her cropped top, her pulse leaped.
"Is this too fast?" he asked, his voice dark and deep.
"No." She meant it. And when his hand brushed up her body to cup one
full breast, sensation shot along her skin. Her mouth fell open on a
silent gasp when his thumb and forefinger gently pinched her nipple.
"This is what making love is about," he said to her. "Pleasure.
Sensation. Two people connecting."
He lay back, pulling her with him. Then he rolled, coming over her, his
weight supported on his elbows. He looked down into her eyes, then he
kissed her.
"Chloe," he groaned into her mouth. "Chloe," he repeated, before
lowering his head to nuzzle the taut
bud of her breast that strained against her pajama top.
The touch sent her senses reeling, and she cried out, her back arching.
"Mmm," she moaned.
His kisses turned to nips as he worked his way down her body, moving
her clothes away. His teeth grazed the strip of skin that showed
between her top and pajama shorts.
"I'm going to undress you," he explained patiently.
Again she didn't protest. As if she were a china doll, he tugged off
her robe and top, the material binding her arms above her head. She
could feel his admiring glance as he took in her breasts.
"I've touched you," he said with awe, "felt you pressed against my
chest, but I haven't seen you. I've dreamed of witnessing what my hands
have experienced. I've wanted to be able to take you in." Then he
pulled the top free.
His reverence was amazing, and she trembled with desire when he pulled
her pa jama bottoms off, leaving her dressed in nothing more than her
panties. She lay flat on her back while he lay to the side, propped up
on his elbow, taking her in.
"So beautiful," he murmured.
He dipped his head and laved one nipple with his tongue. Her breath
caught, and she felt his groan of satisfaction as the rose-colored tip
pulled into a tight bud.
"You like that, don't you?" he asked.
"You know I do."
He chuckled, then he ran his tongue around first one nipple, then the
other, his teeth grazing the tender flesh. Her breath grew shallow as
he trailed his hand down her body, from the sensitive hollow between
her breasts to the thin elastic of her bikini underwear. He didn't take
them off, he only slipped inside, the tips of his fingers brushing the
tight curls. Both of them were breathing rapidly as he brushed his hand
back and forth.
"Chloe," he whispered, then trailed his lips down her burning skin, his
hand sliding lower.
She trembled, wanting, needing, desire beating in her veins.
He felt her need, felt her seeking something she hadn't experienced on
a rocky levee by a river years
ago. Sterling wanted to pummel any man who would be so thoughtless. But
he couldn't think about
that now. His only focus was Chloe and giving her the pleasure she
deserved.
Her eyes widened, but she didn't stop him when he slipped off her
panties.
"Pull up your knees," he commanded gently.
Shyly, nervously, she did as he asked.
"Spread them for me," he added.
She did that as well, though hesitantly. Then her eyes fluttered
closed, her chest rising on a deep breath when he parted the curls,
tracing the moist folds between her legs.
With her hands flung out to her sides, her fingers fisted in the
bedspread. Then he brushed his lips over hers, his fingers circling her
hot center.
He could feel the way her pulse leaped in her neck when he grazed his
mouth along the slender column, then lower. And when he took one nipple
deep in his mouth, he slipped his finger deep inside her sex.
She gasped, her back arching at his touch. She shuddered with feeling.
His body leaped, making demands of its own, and it was all he could do
to keep control of his throbbing erection. But he kept a fierce rein on
himself.
With his thumb, he circled the secret spot, and he could feel her
mounting sensation. He stroked her tender folds, long strokes, deep and
slow, until her body began to move with him, low purring moans
emanating from her.
Her mewling cries wound around him with the sharp bite of talons. Her
mouth parted slightly when he stroked deep. He kissed her then,
absorbing her cry. Then she finally gave in and clung to him.
She met his passion, thrilling him with her naive desire. He brought
her to a fevered pitch with his
fingers, dipping and thrusting, taking her higher. He saw the minute
her body exploded, sensation crystallizing inside her as she arched in
silent, nearly torturous pleasure.
Release. The kind that went so deep that tension and the world around
them washed away. As potent
as a drug. Sterling knew.
With a wealth of emotion, he pulled her to him and wrapped her in his
arms. He held her as tight as he had held anything in his life. Hard
consuming sensation shivered through him. Both desire, but also a
need to protect.
His body pulsed with need, a deep, powerful need that threatened to
overwhelm them both. He wanted
to sink his flesh in her. But he couldn't, not yet. Reality reared, and
he realized he was going too fast. Passion and desire for this woman
had pushed him to this point.
Since meeting her he had tried to purge himself of thoughts of her. He
had lain in bed, his body hard with desire. But the only woman he
wanted to be with was Chloe. He wanted to part her thighs, press at her
opening until she pulled him to her, then slide slow and deep. He
wanted to feel every inch of her satiny warmth wrap around him. He had
nearly done just that seconds ago.
And that couldn't happen. Not yet. Not while she thought he was a man
called Trey Tanner.
With ironclad willpower, he pulled back once her body's spiraling
intensity had wound itself out. He
rolled off the bed and reached for his shirt. Instantly she sat up in
confusion.
"What about you?"
She surprised him, and his fingers stilled. "Me?"
"Yes, you," she said, jutting her chin forward in an expression of
you-know-what-I-mean.
He nearly laughed out loud, but he couldn't for the sheer amazement
that rushed through him. Her innocent caring of him and his needs made
his heart kick in his chest.
"I want you to have ... you know... pleasure, too," she said.
With a gentleness he had never felt before, he came back to her. But
when she reared up on her knees and would have wound her arms around
his neck, he kissed her forehead, then held her away by her shoulders.
"Not tonight. Not yet."
She blinked.
"Now get dressed. You need to get back to Julia's house before anyone
wakes up."
Slowly the passion drained from her face and something else seemed to
sink in. He saw her glance
around the room, see the clothes on the floor, see the two of them,
their bodies, and this time color drained from her face.
But he was just as startled as she was. Days before, he had come to
understand that he might need
more forgiveness than approval from this woman once she found out who
he really was. But for the first time since he started on this path, he
wondered if he would get it once she learned what he had done.
He had no idea what she would do when she found out who he really was.
A month ago he wouldn't
have cared if someone forgave him or not. But now he cared. With this
woman he cared.
Very carefully, as if he were afraid she would breakâ or that he
wouldâhe took her hand. For long seconds he didn't let go, only stared
at her fingers, before he kissed each one.
"There are some things I need to work out," he said. "Then, if you'll
still have me, I will come to you
and never let you go again."
He could feel her confusion as he dressed her and gently pushed her out
the door. "Go home, sweetheart."
Shutting it, he leaned back against the hard plank. He had to think.
"Damn," he whispered as he wondered how the hell he would tell her he
wasn't the man she thought
he was.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Jason Hughes
Subject: re: Question
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
sent a shiver of foreboding
through her. Surely it was something else that she felt.
Lust? Carnal attraction?
Something. Anything but love.
She couldn't afford to love the sort of man who was from a totally
different world from herâwho was everything she didn't respect.
But nothing else explained this inability to put him from her mindâthe
way, despite everything, he
made her want him.
Racing down the hall from the guest bedroom, Chloe concentrated on
putting one foot in front of the other without looking like she was
panicking. It was her own house but she felt like an intruder as she
scurried as quickly and as quietly as she could.
She was so consumed with her thoughts that she almost missed the noise
coming from the kitchen.
And just when the sound finally registered, she was already reaching
out at the exact moment the door swung open.
She jumped and screamed, which caused another scream, high-pitched and
refined, followed by a
shuffle. Suddenly she was face-first into the wall, her hands
outstretched on either side of her. Now
she screamed in earnest.
She was barely aware of the cursing and banging, and then not aware at
all that she was no longer being held against the wall.
"Chloe, it's me."
Sterling's voice.
Yes, Sterling. She could no longer think of him as Trey, the man who
was playing a part, as if what happened in the guestroom had forced a
seismic shift in her mind.
"It was Ben who grabbed you. He thought you were an intruder," he said.
She sagged against him, finding safety, the kind that she instinctively
realized he providedâdespite the weird game he was playing with her.
"It's okay," he murmured against her hair as he stroked her back. "No
one's going to hurt you."
Then she felt him stiffen.
"Grandmere?" he asked, confused.
In some recess of her mind, Chloe finally registered the sound of a
woman's heels on her hardwood floor.
"None other, my boy. Though I can tell you this wasn't the sort of
welcome I was expecting."
Chloe pushed away, her normal good sense flooding back through her. Her
eyes went wide.
"And who is this?" the older woman demanded.
She was every bit as intimidating as either one of what Chloe assumed
were her grandsons, even though each of the men was over six feet tall
and the woman couldn't have been more than a delicately boned five foot
two. Just looking at her, Chloe knew this woman was a matriarch to a
fine, old-moneyed family. The complete opposite of Chloe's own family.
This woman and her family were from a world that Chloe knew nothing
about.
Despite her age, the woman was also a beauty, with gray hair pulled up
in a soft bun, rich chocolate brown eyes, and skin that was amazingly
smooth.
Both men seemed to stand straighter.
"So," the woman intoned, dragging out the single syllable with the
intimidation of a queen.
"My grandsons," she added. "What have you gotten yourselves into now?"
Ben chuckled. "Not me, Grandmere."
Chloe noticed that Sterling implored the woman with his eyes. From the
looks of her, Sterling Prescott's grandmother wouldn't take kindly to
game playing of any sort. Especially the kind that involved lying.
Chloe had the fleeting thought to step forward and say,
You must be Trey's grandmother
. But
everything had changed since she walked into the bedroom intent on
seducing him. She was tired of playing games, too. But where to go from
this difficult place?
"I'm Serenaâ"
Both Sterling and Ben made strange sounds in their chests.
Serena sniffed, gave Sterling a pointed look, then added, "Just call me
Serena. And you are?"
"I'm Chloe Sinclair."
"Ah, yes. The woman on television who is making a fool of my grandson."
"Not really a fool," she responded with a wince.
The woman sniffed. "A fool, dear, and we both know it. I had Ben here
provide me with a videotape." Then she actually chuckled. "There aren't
many women who can make my grandson look anything less than powerful
and commanding. But every now and again, I think, we all need to be
brought down a
peg or two."
Was this a compliment? Chloe didn't know.
"It was nice to meet you," Serena said, clearly dismissing her. "I
noticed that you were on your way
out when the altercation happened. Perhaps you should get yourself
dressed."
"Grandmere," Sterling said sharply.
His grandmother looked at him imperiously while Chloe blushed a
thousand shades of red.
"I've really got to go."
When Sterling tried to stop her, she dashed away into the kitchen, then
out the back door. She needed space. She needed to find a way to
breathe. And for reasons she didn't entirely understand, she realized
that the more she tried to gain control, the more she lost it.
She realized that he was intentionally letting her be in control. He
was revising her beliefs about sex. About love-making.
A thrill ran through her as this time she bent down and pressed her
lips to his.
"Do you like that?" he murmured, his hands lightly holding her.
"Yes," she breathed.
She cupped his face, relishing the feel as she brushed her mouth over
his. He groaned, but still didn't force her to go faster. He took what
she gave at the pace she wanted to give it.
She pulled away slightly and he simply stroked her back, up and down, a
slow glide of his palm over
her robe.
They were locked in this small world of their own making. She felt safe
and cared for.
"I'm going to kiss you now," he said.
He gave her a second to resist, then he gently pulled her head to his.
The contact was light and brief, a fleeting touch, there and gone, then
back again, a hint of what she knew he could give.
A moan escaped her, and she whispered, "More. Please."
He obliged. His mouth captured hers, a shudder running through his
hard, chiseled body as his tongue gently traced the seam between her
lips. No pressure, but making her want. She opened to him, and
when he parted her robe and she felt his skin against her abdomen bared
by her cropped top, her pulse leaped.
"Is this too fast?" he asked, his voice dark and deep.
"No." She meant it. And when his hand brushed up her body to cup one
full breast, sensation shot along her skin. Her mouth fell open on a
silent gasp when his thumb and forefinger gently pinched her nipple.
"This is what making love is about," he said to her. "Pleasure.
Sensation. Two people connecting."
He lay back, pulling her with him. Then he rolled, coming over her, his
weight supported on his elbows. He looked down into her eyes, then he
kissed her.
"Chloe," he groaned into her mouth. "Chloe," he repeated, before
lowering his head to nuzzle the taut
bud of her breast that strained against her pajama top.
The touch sent her senses reeling, and she cried out, her back arching.
"Mmm," she moaned.
His kisses turned to nips as he worked his way down her body, moving
her clothes away. His teeth grazed the strip of skin that showed
between her top and pajama shorts.
"I'm going to undress you," he explained patiently.
Again she didn't protest. As if she were a china doll, he tugged off
her robe and top, the material binding her arms above her head. She
could feel his admiring glance as he took in her breasts.
"I've touched you," he said with awe, "felt you pressed against my
chest, but I haven't seen you. I've dreamed of witnessing what my hands
have experienced. I've wanted to be able to take you in." Then he
pulled the top free.
His reverence was amazing, and she trembled with desire when he pulled
her pa jama bottoms off, leaving her dressed in nothing more than her
panties. She lay flat on her back while he lay to the side, propped up
on his elbow, taking her in.
"So beautiful," he murmured.
He dipped his head and laved one nipple with his tongue. Her breath
caught, and she felt his groan of satisfaction as the rose-colored tip
pulled into a tight bud.
"You like that, don't you?" he asked.
"You know I do."
He chuckled, then he ran his tongue around first one nipple, then the
other, his teeth grazing the tender flesh. Her breath grew shallow as
he trailed his hand down her body, from the sensitive hollow between
her breasts to the thin elastic of her bikini underwear. He didn't take
them off, he only slipped inside, the tips of his fingers brushing the
tight curls. Both of them were breathing rapidly as he brushed his hand
back and forth.
"Chloe," he whispered, then trailed his lips down her burning skin, his
hand sliding lower.
She trembled, wanting, needing, desire beating in her veins.
He felt her need, felt her seeking something she hadn't experienced on
a rocky levee by a river years
ago. Sterling wanted to pummel any man who would be so thoughtless. But
he couldn't think about
that now. His only focus was Chloe and giving her the pleasure she
deserved.
Her eyes widened, but she didn't stop him when he slipped off her
panties.
"Pull up your knees," he commanded gently.
Shyly, nervously, she did as he asked.
"Spread them for me," he added.
She did that as well, though hesitantly. Then her eyes fluttered
closed, her chest rising on a deep breath when he parted the curls,
tracing the moist folds between her legs.
With her hands flung out to her sides, her fingers fisted in the
bedspread. Then he brushed his lips over hers, his fingers circling her
hot center.
He could feel the way her pulse leaped in her neck when he grazed his
mouth along the slender column, then lower. And when he took one nipple
deep in his mouth, he slipped his finger deep inside her sex.
She gasped, her back arching at his touch. She shuddered with feeling.
His body leaped, making demands of its own, and it was all he could do
to keep control of his throbbing erection. But he kept a fierce rein on
himself.
With his thumb, he circled the secret spot, and he could feel her
mounting sensation. He stroked her tender folds, long strokes, deep and
slow, until her body began to move with him, low purring moans
emanating from her.
Her mewling cries wound around him with the sharp bite of talons. Her
mouth parted slightly when he stroked deep. He kissed her then,
absorbing her cry. Then she finally gave in and clung to him.
She met his passion, thrilling him with her naive desire. He brought
her to a fevered pitch with his
fingers, dipping and thrusting, taking her higher. He saw the minute
her body exploded, sensation crystallizing inside her as she arched in
silent, nearly torturous pleasure.
Release. The kind that went so deep that tension and the world around
them washed away. As potent
as a drug. Sterling knew.
With a wealth of emotion, he pulled her to him and wrapped her in his
arms. He held her as tight as he had held anything in his life. Hard
consuming sensation shivered through him. Both desire, but also a
need to protect.
His body pulsed with need, a deep, powerful need that threatened to
overwhelm them both. He wanted
to sink his flesh in her. But he couldn't, not yet. Reality reared, and
he realized he was going too fast. Passion and desire for this woman
had pushed him to this point.
Since meeting her he had tried to purge himself of thoughts of her. He
had lain in bed, his body hard with desire. But the only woman he
wanted to be with was Chloe. He wanted to part her thighs, press at her
opening until she pulled him to her, then slide slow and deep. He
wanted to feel every inch of her satiny warmth wrap around him. He had
nearly done just that seconds ago.
And that couldn't happen. Not yet. Not while she thought he was a man
called Trey Tanner.
With ironclad willpower, he pulled back once her body's spiraling
intensity had wound itself out. He
rolled off the bed and reached for his shirt. Instantly she sat up in
confusion.
"What about you?"
She surprised him, and his fingers stilled. "Me?"
"Yes, you," she said, jutting her chin forward in an expression of
you-know-what-I-mean.
He nearly laughed out loud, but he couldn't for the sheer amazement
that rushed through him. Her innocent caring of him and his needs made
his heart kick in his chest.
"I want you to have ... you know... pleasure, too," she said.
With a gentleness he had never felt before, he came back to her. But
when she reared up on her knees and would have wound her arms around
his neck, he kissed her forehead, then held her away by her shoulders.
"Not tonight. Not yet."
She blinked.
"Now get dressed. You need to get back to Julia's house before anyone
wakes up."
Slowly the passion drained from her face and something else seemed to
sink in. He saw her glance
around the room, see the clothes on the floor, see the two of them,
their bodies, and this time color drained from her face.
But he was just as startled as she was. Days before, he had come to
understand that he might need
more forgiveness than approval from this woman once she found out who
he really was. But for the first time since he started on this path, he
wondered if he would get it once she learned what he had done.
He had no idea what she would do when she found out who he really was.
A month ago he wouldn't
have cared if someone forgave him or not. But now he cared. With this
woman he cared.
Very carefully, as if he were afraid she would breakâ or that he
wouldâhe took her hand. For long seconds he didn't let go, only stared
at her fingers, before he kissed each one.
"There are some things I need to work out," he said. "Then, if you'll
still have me, I will come to you
and never let you go again."
He could feel her confusion as he dressed her and gently pushed her out
the door. "Go home, sweetheart."
Shutting it, he leaned back against the hard plank. He had to think.
"Damn," he whispered as he wondered how the hell he would tell her he
wasn't the man she thought
he was.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Â
From: Jason Hughes
Subject: re: Question
Just
finished up the Chloe Sinclair case for you. Turns out her mother died
when she was seven years old, which explains why she went to live with
her grandmother.
The death certificate on the mother lists the cause of death as
multiple external lacerations and massive internal injuries caused by a
high-speed motorcycle accident. No foul play, just damned
bad luck.
Child Services was involved in the custody. The father wasn't
around.
I'll send over the file so you can read it for yourself, but in a
nutshell, you had a little girl whose father got her mother pregnant
but never married her, then, topping it all off, the mother getting
killed in an accident after the father left town.
I hope like hell whoever you're doing this for isn't asking about
the family because he or she cares about social status crap. Chloe
Sinclair definitely isn't from the debutante crowd. But from everything
I've learned, she is an honorable woman who has survived with a whole
lot of class
after a life of hard knocks.
finished up the Chloe Sinclair case for you. Turns out her mother died
when she was seven years old, which explains why she went to live with
her grandmother.
The death certificate on the mother lists the cause of death as
multiple external lacerations and massive internal injuries caused by a
high-speed motorcycle accident. No foul play, just damned
bad luck.
Child Services was involved in the custody. The father wasn't
around.
I'll send over the file so you can read it for yourself, but in a
nutshell, you had a little girl whose father got her mother pregnant
but never married her, then, topping it all off, the mother getting
killed in an accident after the father left town.
I hope like hell whoever you're doing this for isn't asking about
the family because he or she cares about social status crap. Chloe
Sinclair definitely isn't from the debutante crowd. But from everything
I've learned, she is an honorable woman who has survived with a whole
lot of class
after a life of hard knocks.
If
you have any questions after you get the file, let me know.
Jagyou have any questions after you get the file, let me know.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Â
SIXTEEN
She was falling in love with a man who was lying to her. The thoughtsent a shiver of foreboding
through her. Surely it was something else that she felt.
Lust? Carnal attraction?
Something. Anything but love.
She couldn't afford to love the sort of man who was from a totally
different world from herâwho was everything she didn't respect.
But nothing else explained this inability to put him from her mindâthe
way, despite everything, he
made her want him.
Racing down the hall from the guest bedroom, Chloe concentrated on
putting one foot in front of the other without looking like she was
panicking. It was her own house but she felt like an intruder as she
scurried as quickly and as quietly as she could.
She was so consumed with her thoughts that she almost missed the noise
coming from the kitchen.
And just when the sound finally registered, she was already reaching
out at the exact moment the door swung open.
She jumped and screamed, which caused another scream, high-pitched and
refined, followed by a
shuffle. Suddenly she was face-first into the wall, her hands
outstretched on either side of her. Now
she screamed in earnest.
She was barely aware of the cursing and banging, and then not aware at
all that she was no longer being held against the wall.
"Chloe, it's me."
Sterling's voice.
Yes, Sterling. She could no longer think of him as Trey, the man who
was playing a part, as if what happened in the guestroom had forced a
seismic shift in her mind.
"It was Ben who grabbed you. He thought you were an intruder," he said.
She sagged against him, finding safety, the kind that she instinctively
realized he providedâdespite the weird game he was playing with her.
"It's okay," he murmured against her hair as he stroked her back. "No
one's going to hurt you."
Then she felt him stiffen.
"Grandmere?" he asked, confused.
In some recess of her mind, Chloe finally registered the sound of a
woman's heels on her hardwood floor.
"None other, my boy. Though I can tell you this wasn't the sort of
welcome I was expecting."
Chloe pushed away, her normal good sense flooding back through her. Her
eyes went wide.
"And who is this?" the older woman demanded.
She was every bit as intimidating as either one of what Chloe assumed
were her grandsons, even though each of the men was over six feet tall
and the woman couldn't have been more than a delicately boned five foot
two. Just looking at her, Chloe knew this woman was a matriarch to a
fine, old-moneyed family. The complete opposite of Chloe's own family.
This woman and her family were from a world that Chloe knew nothing
about.
Despite her age, the woman was also a beauty, with gray hair pulled up
in a soft bun, rich chocolate brown eyes, and skin that was amazingly
smooth.
Both men seemed to stand straighter.
"So," the woman intoned, dragging out the single syllable with the
intimidation of a queen.
"My grandsons," she added. "What have you gotten yourselves into now?"
Ben chuckled. "Not me, Grandmere."
Chloe noticed that Sterling implored the woman with his eyes. From the
looks of her, Sterling Prescott's grandmother wouldn't take kindly to
game playing of any sort. Especially the kind that involved lying.
Chloe had the fleeting thought to step forward and say,
You must be Trey's grandmother
. But
everything had changed since she walked into the bedroom intent on
seducing him. She was tired of playing games, too. But where to go from
this difficult place?
"I'm Serenaâ"
Both Sterling and Ben made strange sounds in their chests.
Serena sniffed, gave Sterling a pointed look, then added, "Just call me
Serena. And you are?"
"I'm Chloe Sinclair."
"Ah, yes. The woman on television who is making a fool of my grandson."
"Not really a fool," she responded with a wince.
The woman sniffed. "A fool, dear, and we both know it. I had Ben here
provide me with a videotape." Then she actually chuckled. "There aren't
many women who can make my grandson look anything less than powerful
and commanding. But every now and again, I think, we all need to be
brought down a
peg or two."
Was this a compliment? Chloe didn't know.
"It was nice to meet you," Serena said, clearly dismissing her. "I
noticed that you were on your way
out when the altercation happened. Perhaps you should get yourself
dressed."
"Grandmere," Sterling said sharply.
His grandmother looked at him imperiously while Chloe blushed a
thousand shades of red.
"I've really got to go."
When Sterling tried to stop her, she dashed away into the kitchen, then
out the back door. She needed space. She needed to find a way to
breathe. And for reasons she didn't entirely understand, she realized
that the more she tried to gain control, the more she lost it.
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The Milk of Birds by Sylvia Whitman
Hidden Trump (Bite Back 2) by Henwick, Mark
Brody by Susan Fisher-Davis
The Private Papers of Eastern Jewel by Maureen Lindley
Die Again Tomorrow by Kira Peikoff
Her Cowboy Daddy by Dinah McLeod