Rachel's Choice by Judith French

Author:Judith French [French, Judith]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780307800800
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2011-11-20T13:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

“Rachel!” Chance called. “Wait.”

She stalked away, brown eyes spitting fire and her back as straight as an infantryman’s. His wet shirt clung sensually to her full hips and ended halfway down her thighs, exposing long, shapely legs and slim ankles. Her thick, dark hair hung nearly to her waist, and drops of water caught in the strands reflected rays of sunshine like stars in a night sky.

She was one hell of a woman.

“Rachel!”

She vanished around the corner of the barn and he hurried after her, treading carefully to avoid stubble under his bare soles. When he reached the house, she was already upstairs. He heard Davy fussing just before a bedroom door slammed.

Chance shrugged and looked around the kitchen. Bear raised his head and uttered a low growl. “My sentiments exactly,” Chance said.

She’d told him to go. If she didn’t want him here, then he was free to leave … free to return to Pea Patch and settle old scores.

All he had to do was turn his back on the woman he’d come to think of as his own.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered as he located the broom and began to sweep up the mess. Why in hell couldn’t she understand? What kind of man would he be if he allowed himself to hide out the war in safety while his friends died?

He stooped to retrieve the butter dish from the floor. Bear had licked it clean. “At least you’re good for something,” he said to the dog.

It was hard to stay mad at Rachel when memories of their idyll at the creek still made him hard. He knew that if he shut his eyes and concentrated, he could taste Rachel’s mouth and feel the silken texture of her skin.

Damn, he didn’t have to try. The clean woman-scent of her lingered in his nostrils. Just thinking about her lush, rose-tipped breasts was enough to drive him crazy.

She was impossible. Irrational. Yet, he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and make love to her again.

It shouldn’t have been that way. He liked women, always had, but once he’d had one, some of the mystery and excitement was lost.

Not this time.

What he felt for Rachel was more than physical. It was dangerous—she was dangerous. He had the awful sinking feeling that he was about to experience something he’d thought would never happen. He suffered from all the symptoms of falling in love.

And he was long past that human failing.

“Absolutely not,” he said.

The massive black dog blinked and lolled a tongue the size of a man’s hand.

“Forget it.” Chance briskly wiped down the table and returned the flour box and salt crock to the cupboard. He was scrubbing the corn-bread pan when he heard footsteps behind him.

“I can do that,” Rachel said. “The cow hasn’t been milked this morning.”

“Yes, she has.” He pumped cold water over the pan.

“Oh.”

He glanced at her. She wore a purplish gingham dress and white apron, and her glorious mane of hair was neatly braided and pinned up on her head.

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