Return To Falcon Ridge by Rita Herron

Author:Rita Herron [Herron, Rita]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2006-12-12T23:00:00+00:00

ELSIE PRESSED A FINGER to her lips, her skin still tingling with erotic sensations from Deke’s kiss. He had been so tender yet seductive. Had stirred desires that she’d never expected to feel again. A hunger that had nearly driven her wild, straight into his arms without even thinking about the consequences.

She hugged her arms to herself. He made her ache and burn for his touch. For more. For him to make love to her.

But Hattie’s words haunted her, “Physical pleasure is wrong, girls. It’s sinful.”

Elsie had paid a harsh price for her first experience in lovemaking. Only with Deke, she was older…could things possibly be different? Would she ever be able to have a normal relationship with a man?

No. Not after her past….

Not with all the bitterness, fear and guilt that had eaten at her soul for the past decade.

Yet as tender as Deke had been, his hunger had been palpable. Completely male. Guarded but potent. Asking and giving.

She didn’t know how to accept that kind of sexual interchange. In the past, she’d only known roughness. That she was expected to give. That when it was over, she had felt empty.

Now, her insides quivered with the need to feel his touch again. A warm unsettled feeling throbbed deep within her. How could Deke make her feel this way when other men’s touches had turned her stomach? And what would happen if she actually encouraged him? Would she freak out and run away as she had with the last guy who’d tried to get close to her? Would she be able to please him the way a man wanted?

Doubt and uncertainty clouded the euphoria his touch had evoked. Irritated with herself, she poured another glass of wine, then retreated to her room, alone, where she was safe with her secrets.

The baby blanket mocked her from the dresser, and anger flooded her. She couldn’t show this to Deke, but she couldn’t throw it away, either. She had to know who had left it for her.

Hands trembling, she folded it and hid it beneath her bag, then spotted Hattie Mae’s diary. Would she be violating the woman’s privacy if she read it? Probably.

Then again, if Hattie Mae had revealed something about the adoptions or the other girls in the diary, she had to read it.

The creaking sound of the cradle from the attic echoed in her ears, a haunting sound that had repeatedly grated on her conscience in her nightmares. Driven by the painful sound, she opened the journal and began to read.

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