Fatal Wild Child by Tracy Cooper-Posey

Author:Tracy Cooper-Posey [Cooper-Posey, Tracy]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: Tracy Cooper-Posey
Published: 2011-04-14T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Gabrielle woke to daylight, which meant it was well past ten a.m. She lay on her stomach, one arm hanging over the side of the bed, the sheet somewhere south of her waist and the pillows nowhere to be found. Her hair was scattered across the mattress, it felt like. A director might well have posed her for a "morning after great sex" scene. She never thought she'd find herself naturally flung in such abandon.

She rolled over, feeling pleasantly used muscles protest.

"Good morning," Seth said.

Gabrielle cracked open one eye. "It is," she agreed. "I think."

He grinned. He was sitting on the chair next to the TV cabinet, wearing only his trousers, the button undone. The sight of his bare chest did interesting things to Gabrielle's pulse, even though she was still groggy with sleep. Scattered images of the previous night's activities popped into her mind, and memories of sensations like Seth's lips on her body, his hands stroking her back and gradually moving lower and lower until they were fluttering over her buttocks, making her wriggle and her thighs drift apart...the taste of Seth's flesh under her lips...the satiny softness and heat of the more sensitive parts of his anatomy against her tongue.

Gabrielle woke a little more.

"Hungry?" Seth asked.

"Starving!" she confessed.

"Breakfast is on its way," he told her. "I phoned down for some about forty minutes ago."

"Have you been watching me since then?"

"Not the whole forty minutes, but some," he said easily.

She could feel herself blushing again. "Lord, why?"

"You're beautiful," he said simply. "Especially when you're sleeping." He crossed over to the bed and sat next to her. "You talk in your sleep, Ms. Gabrielle Sherborne." And he kissed her.

Gabrielle wound her arms around his neck, quite willing to let the kiss proceed wherever it wanted to go, but then her cell phone started its heavy bass beat musical demand, the special heavy metal aria that was the signature call sign for one of her father's phone calls.

"My dad," she said. "Damn."

Seth picked up her bag, which she had dumped next to the chair he was sitting in, and carried it to her. "He'll want to know where you are. They'll know you're not in your cabin by now."

She sat up, pulling up the sheet and winding it around her and under her arms, and answered the phone. "Dad."

"You ran away last night, Gabrielle," her father said in his clipped speech.

"After yesterday's delightful lunch, Dad, do you blame me?"

"I thought you handled yourself rather well yesterday, for a change. Is Seth with you? Darlene says his cabin hasn't been used."

"That's none of your business, Dad," she said evenly.

"He must be, or you would have said no."

She winced. Damn.

"Well, that makes things easier," her father continued, sounding inordinately pleased. "We're all going skiing at Marmot today. I was looking for both of you to ask you if you wanted to come along."

"You know very well I hate skiing," she said evenly. "Why bother to ask me?"

"Because you'd tear strips off me if I didn't," he said.

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