Rainbow by Patricia Potter

Author:Patricia Potter [Potter, Patricia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
ISBN: 9780553290691
Publisher: Bantam
Published: 1991-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

QUINN KNEW he was being a damned fool. His mind kept telling him that, but his heart didn’t listen.

He wanted her. He needed her. Christ, how he needed her.

Perhaps because she needed him, too, he thought. It had been obvious in her kiss, in her touch, in the wonder in her eyes. But he didn’t, couldn’t, go beyond that thought. He only knew that this moment was right. For whatever reasons, it was right.

She interested and attracted him as no other woman ever had. There was an explosive quality between them, that had always been between them even when he’d thought she was everything he disliked, even when she’d looked like a dressmaker’s worst nightmare. He had never known anything like this excitement before, this current that flowed between them with the unpredictability of a thunderstorm.

As they sat together on the bed, she looked up at him, and he wondered how he’d ever thought her unattractive. Her dark brown eyes were alive with emotion, with a wistfulness that reached into him and stole a piece of his soul.

Her light brown hair, so like wisps of gold in the sun, was silk to his touch. Her face was striking, full of character. The lips were full, the chin determined, the eyes wide and deep, the cheekbones high and exquisitely sculptured. His hard callused hand traced every feature. He expected questions, but none came. Instead she leaned into his touch, seeking the rough strength.

Quinn’s hand hesitated at the discolored bruise he had put there. He touched it lightly, wishing he could make it disappear.

As if forgiving him, she slid into his arms as if she belonged there, as if God had made them to hold her. He ran his hands up and down her arms, enjoying the feel of her skin against his fingers, relishing the way she snuggled deeper into his embrace.

He felt the boat move and knew they were leaving New Orleans. She stiffened for a moment, and he knew she, too, was reacting to the movement. Any decision had been taken away from them: his to let her go, hers to stay without any additional protestations. He felt her body relax and saw her head turn upward to look at him with lovely searching eyes, and his arms tightened compulsively around her.

There was no fear in her face, no hesitancy. It was as if she had made a silent decision and was at peace with it. Her hand reached out and took his right one, turning it palm-up, studying it. He allowed her to trace a line across his palm, although he didn’t like how much it could tell about him. Without his gloves he felt vulnerable, naked. Despite his best attempts, the leatherlike calluses remained from years of hard physical labor on road gangs, in quarries, and, toward the last, the coal mines. They were not the hands of a gambler—or of a gentleman. He saw the puzzlement in her face, but she kept the questions unasked. Perhaps because she had so many secrets of her own.

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