Promise Canyon by Robyn Carr

Author:Robyn Carr
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: MIRA
Published: 2011-03-24T16:00:00+00:00

Every night for three long nights, Lilly slept in Clay’s arms, whatever little sleep they actually got. Before sleep, he’d work her out in a way she had never experienced before, then hold her trembling, satisfied body close until she calmed, until she dozed. Invariably, she would reach for him, her hands begging him for more. With a groan of helplessness, he’d make love to her again and again. And again.

When his hands were on her, when he was inside her, she went to a place she could never remember being before. The man had a way with her body that defied reality. And from the sounds he made and the sheen of perspiration that covered him, she was not disappointing him.

She fought his hair during sex; he bound or braided it to keep it under control and she pulled it free, letting it flow. When he was above her, it fell like a curtain around her; when he was on his back, she found herself lying on it as if it were a soft mat, sometimes tugging it. It was a constant battle, but she wanted that thick black hair that marked his ancestry all around her, beneath her, over her, beside her. She caressed it as if it were a pet.

While he held her close on that third night he whispered, “I haven’t wanted to ask…”

“You’d better. I can’t read your mind.”

He paused a moment to form his words. “Is your… Is what’s-his-name still under the weather?”

Lilly chuckled. “I’ve spoken to him a couple of times. He’s getting better. He’ll be fine.”

“I want to know about him,” Clay said. “I want to know how you met him, what you like about him, if you’re going to tell him that you’ve been having days of endless, mind-bending sex with me?”

“I wasn’t planning to tell anyone,” she said. “That would be indiscreet.”

“I tried not to ask about him,” Clay said. “I lasted as long as I could. Tell me some things. Like—is he Native? Did your grandfather pick him out for you?”

She burst out laughing. “No!” she said. “He might be German—I can’t remember. Listen, I gave you the wrong idea. He’s not a boyfriend, not technically. He’s my best friend. His name is Dane, he owns a coffee shop near my yoga studio. I’ve known him for a few years, since he opened the place. We go to movies, sometimes we hike, we have long talks, political arguments, discuss books we like. When there’s live music around here, we try to go. He has a sister, niece and nephew I love. I can talk to him about anything. We have the same kind of education and—”

“What kind of education?” Clay asked.

“We enjoy the arts. Music, literature, theater, art. My degree is in classical studies.”

“But you’re the accountant for your grandfather’s store!”

“Well, not exactly,” she said. “I’m the bookkeeper. My grandfather taught me and I’ve been doing it for a long time, since before college. I didn’t exactly need to study it in college.

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