by Leslie Kelly
“You don’t want the truth getting out here in town,” he replied slowly. “I should have known. Something about the way the note said to let the case die a natural death seemed familiar.”
“Detective Mike Michaels has said it in a couple of my books. I can’t believe I wrote that in the note. Stupid.”
“Maybe you subconsciously wanted to get caught.” Then he shook his head. “It would have been easier just to tell me the truth then.”
She stepped closer, meeting his steady stare, ordering him to listen. To believe. “I didn’t want to lose you before we had a chance to see if something could work between us.” She moved closer still, until their bodies nearly touched, separated only by an inch of air, and the mess that had come between them. “I wanted you to get to know the real me, the real Sophie that absolutely no one on this Earth knows. I wanted you to see me for who I am before you had to decide if you really wanted to be with this woman who isn’t the woman who caught your eye when you came to Derryville.”
“The one I who caught your eye?”
“Bad enough I’m not the sweet-faced, small-town girl who’s going to have your roast beef and potatoes on the table when you get home at five-thirty.”
“I don’t like potatoes.”
“Shut up. I’m not finished.”
He didn’t respond, but he did smile gently.
“Where was I?”
“Telling me to shut up,” he offered helpfully.
She shook her head and rubbed her hand over her eyes, trying to get her thoughts back in order, trying to think of everything she’d planned to say to him before he’d arrived.
“Okay,” she finally said, knowing it was useless to try to stick to some kind of script. Instead, she spoke from the heart. “I’m not the housewife type and I never will be. But I love family, and I love this place, because of its small-town quirkiness, not in spite of it.” She gulped for courage before taking this next step. “Daniel, I know it’s very soon. But I have to tell you—I’ve already fallen in love with you.”
He waited, not responding in any way to her admission.
“I want you to have the kind of life you never had growing up. Kids, a warm house full of laughter. Growing old together in a small town, living our own secret life behind closed doors.”
His grin faded and his expression grew tender.
“You already know I’m not sweet Sophie. But can you live with the fact that I’m also R. F. Colt? That I do think up pretty sick stuff?” Unable to help it, she added, “And, come to think of it, I make a damn good living doing it!”
He stepped closer, erasing that bit of space between them. His voice was thick with emotion as he said, “I love you, too, Sophie. Or R. F. Or whoever you want to be.”
She sagged against him, so relieved, so exhausted from the emotional roller coaster she’d been riding for days. Then he kissed her, sweetly, tenderly, telling her as much with that soft touch as he did with his words or his eyes just what he was feeling. When their mouths parted, she tilted her head forward to rest her forehead on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you from the beginning. I’m not a liar, I promise.”
“I’ve been hiding the truth myself,” he admitted. Lifting her chin with the tip of his finger, he added, “I tried to make myself fit in here. To like this life, to be the same as everybody else.” He shook his head. “But I wasn’t cutting it. Until I met you, I wondered if I was gonna make it. I needed you to spice up my life with your sharp tongue and your tight workout clothes and your fake sweet-Sophie smile that hides your outrageously naughty thoughts.” He kissed her forehead, smoothing her hair from her brow.
Standing on tiptoe, she pressed her lips to his, kissing him again and again. “So you mean it?” she asked. “You can stand a woman with a pretty vivid imagination?”
He looked down at her. “I read fiction, Sophie. I even read thrillers and good cop books. When I was talking about people thinking up ways to hurt others, I was talking about the bad guys. Not authors.”
She nodded, accepting his explanation. “And you want to stay here? Want to let me show you how to enjoy all the crazy quirkiness this place has to offer?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m not letting you go.” He emphasized the promise by kissing her again. A long, deep, wet kiss that reminded her of all the things they’d done together the night before. And that promised more. Much, much more.
“There’s only one problem, Sophie. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to people spreading rumors about my underwear.”
Reaching for his belt buckle, she gave him a wicked smile and pulled him toward her bedroom. “Don’t you worry, big guy. From now on, I’m the only woman who’s going to know what you’ve got under your sexy cop uniform.”
He gave her a throaty laugh. “Considering I was in a rush this morning, I’m afraid I have to admit the truth.” He nibbled her ear and whispered, “Absolutely nothing.”
All Sophie could think was, How sweet.
A promised woman. A sexy groundskeeper. Lady Chatterley, look out!
Read on for an excerpt from Leslie Kelly’s book WAKING UP TO YOU available now!
Gently pushing her, Oliver ordered, “Go.”
All because he needed her to be the one who walked away and ended this before it really began? As if he had no free will? As if unless she did, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from doing to her exactly what she’d practically dared him to do?
You don’t want him to do it either, remember? You know you can’t do this.
No. She might want Oliver, and having sex with him might even be worth what she would go through afterward if people found out. She needed to cool this, here and now. She had to be the one who walked away.
Which still wasn’t going to be easy.
“I’m telling you, you really don’t want to watch me walking up those stairs.”
“Yes. I really do.”
“You’ll regret it.”
“Hell, I already regret it,” he said, tunneling both his hands through his hair this time, leaving it more tousled than before.
“Not as much as you’re about to.”
Without another word, she spun around again, squared her shoulders, stiffened her spine and ascended the stairs. He stood below, watching her, and when she reached the fourth one, she couldn’t help pausing to glance over her shoulder at him.
“Oh, Oliver, do you want to know why I didn’t want to walk up the stairs until you left?”
He didn’t reply, just gave her an inscrutable look.
She told him anyway. “Because of this.”
Candace took another step, knowing she’d reached the point of no return. Knowing full well he could now see what she was not wearing beneath her robe.
She wished she could say his strangled, guttural cry of helpless frustration made her feel better about walking away from what she sensed could be the best sex of her life.
But she just couldn’t.
WAKING UP TO YOU by Leslie Kelly is part of Harlequin Blaze’s bestselling Forbidden Fantasy series.
Copyright 2013 by Leslie Kelly
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ISBN: 978-1-4592-5409-1
Thrill Me
Copyright © 2004 by Leslie Kelly
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