Garden Of Fantasy by Karen Rose Smith

Author:Karen Rose Smith [Smith, Karen Rose]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Author Published
Published: 2011-02-23T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

Beth stopped. She scanned Nash's shoulders pushing at the blue cotton shirt, his long legs emerging from cut-offs, and her heart tried to leap from her chest.

He stood, feet planted apart, blocking the porch.

She glanced along the side of the house, considering dodging him, running around back, and locking herself inside. She didn't need more abuse.

He folded his arms across his chest and looked like a Roman gladiator, 1992 version. "I'm not leaving until we talk."

Authoritarian, dominating, sexy, handsome... Damn! Taking a few deep breaths, she straightened her shoulders and walked up the steps, stepping over his foot as if he weren't there. She was aware of his eyes behind his sunglasses scorching her as she fished the key out of her bra. Unfortunately, Nash was too big to ignore. And he was too strong to dismiss. He could stop her from going inside if he wanted to. Or he was probably stubborn enough to sit on her porch steps until doomsday.

She took a stab at dissuading him. "We don't have anything to talk about."

His mouth turned down as he flipped off his sunglasses and hung them on his pocket. "Maybe you don't, but I do. I'll talk. You can listen."

She tossed him what she hoped was a withering glare and unlocked the door to step inside. Not stopping to offer him a seat, she went straight to the kitchen, poured herself a glass of orange juice, and drank it down. The trembling in her limbs was from exertion, nothing else.

His gaze followed the rise of the glass, the constriction of her throat as she swallowed. "It's too hot for jogging."

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, not caring if the gesture was ladylike. "I needed the exercise."

"You could have had a heat stroke."

His remark had an edge, she couldn't decide if it was annoyance or anger. "That's my business. What do you care?"

"I care, Beth. I care a lot."

Damn! His voice had the same smoky quality that was there after he'd kissed her. With a snort of disbelief, she rinsed out her glass. "Yeah. You care so much you'd accuse me of..." Blast! She'd start crying in a minute and that was unacceptable. She plunked the glass on the counter and headed for the living room. "I have to take a shower."

Nash caught her arm in a no-nonsense hold. She looked down at his hand until he let go.

Mowing his fingers through his hair, he sighed. "I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say."

She scooted her eyes away from the hard length of his thighs, his slim hips, his flat stomach. Her reaction to his physical appeal made her explode. "You didn't trust me!"

"Do you trust me?"

Something in his eyes held her still. If she trusted him, she could tell him about John. Right? No. It was more complicated than that. Especially now.

He took a step toward her and waited to see if she'd back away. She could. She felt she should. He had jumped to conclusions, he had convicted her without a trial, he'd refused to listen.

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