Page 31 of A Ranger for Christmas
She thought of the callouses marring her palms. “You remember?”
“Every detail.”
“When you woke up in Merida, I was gone.”
Gray eyes darkened with a mixture of anger and passion. “Roses have thorns. That’s what makes them interesting.”
He raised his hand to her cheek and grazed his knuckle along her cheekbone. “You’re interesting. Intoxicating. Frustrating. I like the challenge.”
He leaned forward and kissed her gently on the lips. The touch reminded her of butterflies skittering across her skin. Again, he kept the pace slow, as if he wanted her to set the tempo.
She wrapped her hands around his neck and, rising on tiptoes, pressed into the kiss. His arms immediately banded around her narrow waist, and he lifted her off the ground as he deepened the kiss.
The moment swept over her like a tropical storm and she found herself longing for the touch of his hands on her body. In the house, footsteps creaked on the second floor. His hand, moving from her shoulder to her breast, stilled. He pulled back and allowed a sigh of frustration. “This is not how I pictured our reunion.”
She moistened her lips, trying to push back the wave of desire that had come with the force of a twister. “You imagined?”
He cupped her face with his hand, coaxing her to open her eyes and look at him. “More times than I could count.”
Heat warmed her cheeks. “Oh.”
Another creak echoed in the house, reminding them both where they stood. His hands glided over her arms. “We’ll wait until we have a proper bed and more privacy than my sister’s house can give.” His voice deepened with a promise he sounded determined to keep.
Disappointment circled around and howled that promises were meant to be broken. With an effort, she released her grip. “I don’t know what to say.”
His head cocked a fraction. “Mind, this is no rejection. It’s an admittance the timing is bad, and we will return to this. That’s a promise.”
A nervous laugh bubbled in her throat. “I’m supposed to sleep now?”
He glanced back at her, a lightness humming under the remaining passion. “I did try to offer you coffee.”
With his scent still lingering on her, she crawled back into bed, quite sure she would never sleep again.
Chapter 11
Tuesday, December 23, 10A.M.
When Marisa awoke, the bright sun streamed in her window. She glanced at the clock and realized it was late.
She tossed back the covers, shocked and amazed that she’d slept so long. With the rumble of the boys laughing and talking and the television humming in the other room, she got out of bed, showered, and dressed. Purse and overnight bag in hand, she emerged from her room to the smell of coffee and cinnamon. The scents coaxed her to the kitchen, where she found Lucas talking to Sherry.
Sherry greeted her with a cheery good morning. Lucas’s nod was casual, but his gaze devoured her as he raised his coffee cup to his lips.
Color warmed her cheeks as she thought about the kiss they’d shared last night. “I can’t believe I slept this late.”
Sherry waved away her concern as she plucked a Santa mug from the stand and filled it with coffee. “You needed it.”
Lucas’s eyes twinkled as if he’d remembered decrying her inability to sleep.
“So you two are off to the accident site today?” Sherry asked.
“We are.” Marisa shifted her attention to Sherry. “I’m anxious to get to the site now that I’m rested.”
Sherry pushed scones in her direction. “Eat up. It’s going to be a big day.”
Marisa’s phone rang. She dug it out of her purse and glanced at the number. “That’s my father. I better take it.”
“Sure,” Lucas said.
