One Eye Open by Karen Whiddon

Author:Karen Whiddon [Karen Whiddon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2004-12-23T07:00:00+00:00

Five-thirty in the morning. Only masochists rose at this hour. Carson punched his pillow and listened again for the sound of Brenna’s breathing. He’d had a torturously rough night. Fitful dozing only, hanging on to the sharp edge of awareness so he would know if she tried to climb into his bed. Asleep, he could not resist her, though even the thought of her silky limbs intertwined with his made him uncomfortably aware of his own hard and aching body. His own need and desire.

Guilt filled him. He shouldn’t want her, but he did. Pushing away his erotic thoughts, he gave up his futile attempt to go back to sleep and sat up.

If he focused on what he’d come to do instead of what he wanted to do to Alex’s sister, maybe his raging hormones would subside.

Today. Today they would drive out to the encampment, the last thing those murderous thugs would expect. And, since Alex seemed so intent on warning him away, Carson wanted to show him beyond a shadow of a doubt that he wouldn’t let Brenna go anywhere. Not until he got answers. He found it hard to believe that a man as cold-blooded as Alex had become would worry about her at all. And if he did, surely Alex knew Carson. He wouldn’t let her get hurt. Not on his watch. Two lives lost had been more than enough. He would die before he let that happen again.

Alex had offered a trade—himself for his sister. Right. Like Alex would really turn himself in on Friday, the day after all the drugs and cash were supposed to trade hands. No, Carson would bet his last dollar Alex would be on some plane to an undisclosed Caribbean country.

The rising sun leaked around the edges of the heavy, dust-covered curtains. Padding to the window on bare feet, Carson drew back the drapes, letting the fresh light of the new morning in through the dirt-streaked glass.

Today would be a good day. He repeated the words like a mantra. Though he hadn’t had a truly good day since he’d lost his family, each hour that brought him closer to achieving his goal he deemed a success.

In the bed next to him, Brenna stirred, stretching her supple, slender body like a cat. She’d kicked off her covers in the night, and the sweatshirt she wore rode up one shapely hip. He stared, unable to resist, drinking in her unconscious sensuality like whiskey and feeling it burn in much the same way.

Whiskey had been his salvation once, when every day had seemed like the darkest night. No more. He needed every sense sharp and ready to bring down his enemy. The need for such oblivion still haunted him, especially when his stomach ached and he wanted to forget.

He focused his attention away from the bed next to him.

Brenna. Damn her. When he’d woken in the night and found himself holding her, fully aroused, he’d wanted her with a savage mindlessness that stunned him. Later, after he’d rejected her, she seemed hurt.

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