Sandra's Classics - the Bad Boys of Romance - Boxed Set by Sandra Marton

Author:Sandra Marton [Marton, Sandra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Romance, Contemporary, Contemporary Fiction
Amazon: B00F3CWTF4
Published: 2013-09-09T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

The glow of the fire danced on the shadowed walls as Sara placed a sterling silver soup spoon into an oyster-white Limoges china bowl, touched a creamy Irish linen table-napkin to her mouth and smiled at Peter sitting cross-legged beside her on the parquet floor.

"That," she said, "was the strangest breakfast I've ever eaten." A smile curved across her mouth. "And the best."

Laughter gleamed in his brown eyes. "You mean to say this is the first time you've had consommé with sherry, champagne biscuits and smoked turkey at eight in the morning?"

She smiled. "If it had been my pantry we'd raided for breakfast, we'd have had to settle for oatmeal and jam."

Peter grinned as he collected their dishes and rose to his feet.

"Remind me to thank Cook for having left such a motley assortment of canned foods behind." He pulled on a heavy wool shirt. "And now, madame, I think some coffee would do nicely, don't you agree?"

Sara nodded. "I'll make it," she said. "You did all this..."

"And hard work it was, opening all those cans." He smiled as he buttoned the shirt and put on leather gloves. "You stay put, Sara. I'm going to have to go out and get a bucket of snow for the coffee. There's no sense in both of us freezing." He picked up their dishes and looked down at her. "How's that ankle?"

"Much better."

"Good." He started towards the door, and then turned to look at her. "Coffee doesn't keep you awake, does it?"

Sara looked at him. "Why?"

"I want to be on the road by late afternoon. We only have time to nap for a few hours." A quick smile curved over his mouth. "I wouldn't want to keep you from getting your rest," he said, as their eyes met.

She felt a blush rise to her cheeks but the door closed after him before she could come up with an answer. And the teasing glint in his eyes had invited one—she knew that, even though she had no idea how to frame it.

She thought suddenly of the beautiful women who had flung themselves at him at the Winstead party. One of them would have been quick to reply to that kind of remark. Unfortunately, flirting was an art for which she had no talent at all.

Not that she wanted to flirt with Peter Saxon. There had been a subtle change, yes. She wasn't really afraid he would hurt her, but that didn't mean she'd lost her fear.

Now, her fear was not so much about what could happen to her but about what had already happened to her. It was a very private, very dark fear. She had yet to put a name to it but somewhere along the way, Peter Saxon had stopped being the enemy.

And that, of course, made no sense at all.

Sara stood and jammed her hands deep into her trouser pockets.

He hadn't even existed in her life less than a day ago. Now, she felt as if she'd known him forever. Last night, she'd known he was a hard and dangerous felon.

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