Novel.29.Sunny.Chandler's.Return.1987 by Brown Sandra

Author:Brown, Sandra [Brown, Sandra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Google: glRaAAAAMAAJ
Amazon: 0553576062
Publisher: Bantam
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Ty had made a serious tactical error and he knew it.

Cursing his poor judgment, he drained the umpteenth cup of coffee he'd drunk since returning from Sunny's lake cabin. He hadn't even gone to bed, knowing that it would be useless. He wouldn't sleep. Between desire and self-flagellation, he'd stay awake all night anyway. So he had chosen to brew a pot of coffee and wait out the night with it.

Now, as the sun was creeping over the eastern horizon, he still remonstrated with himself for the way he'd bungled things last night. When backed into a corner any wounded animal was going to scratch. When he had told Sunny she didn't, couldn't, love Don Jenkins, it was predictable that she would swear on a stack of Bibles she did. Why had he realized that too late?

"Because I'm stupid, that's why," he mumbled as he left his chair. He rinsed his cup out at the sink, unplugged the coffee maker, and made his way through the shadowed house toward his bedroom. He happened to glance at his reflection in the mirror over his dresser. He had the bloodshot, bleary eyes of a drunk after a three-day binge. His beard was much darker than his hair and heavily shadowed the lower half of his face. His shirt was unbuttoned all the way, the shirttail hanging limply against his thighs. He looked thoroughly disreputable and nothing like the way the chief law enforcer of Latham Parish should look.

Lathering his face at the bathroom sink, he once again reviewed the events of last night. Sunny was all woman, no doubt about it. A sensuous, passionate woman. It had made her mad as hell for him to cut their foreplay short and rush off to the drive-in. If he had carried her from his kitchen into the bedroom, she wouldn't have resisted. Oh, she might have put up some token resistance, her nature being what it was, but no real resistance.

He had decided after their first meeting that the only way he could woo Sunny Chandler was by not doing anything. It had become immediately apparent to him she couldn't be flattered; she was inured to flattery. She couldn't be cajoled; she was too smart. He couldn't appeal to her pity; she wouldn't have believed him.

Instinctively he had known that the only way he could successfully get her into his bed was to inform her outright of what he was going to do, and then not try very hard to do it. Come on strong and then retreat. Confusion was the key. By the time he made his final move, the poor girl would be so confused by his clever tactics she would be relieved to fall into his bed.

All had been going well and according to plan. But he hadn't counted on the monumental roadblock of her fancying herself still in love with Don Jenkins.

He cut himself on the chin. He cussed the dull blade and angrily tossed the disposable razor into the wastepaper basket.

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