The Sins of His Past by Roxanne St. Claire

Author:Roxanne St. Claire [Claire, Roxanne St.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General, Fiction, Romance, Love Stories, Contemporary, Man-Woman Relationships, Adult, Bachelors
ISBN: 9780373767021
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2006-01-10T00:00:00+00:00

Did Deuce deliberately slow down as they passed the dunes of West Rock Beach? Did he even remember that this was the beach… their beach? Or was Kendra the only one who nurtured those memories?

In nine years, she'd never returned to West Rock Beach.

She battled the urge to look to her left, to look at the sandy backdrop and the few reeds of tall grass, and at the man who sat next to her.

"Tell me something, Ken-doll." The serious tone made her stomach drop. "Do you think of me when you pass this spot?"

She leaned her head back and let the sun stream over her face. "Why would I do that?"

Laughing, he accelerated and pulled the gearshift into fourth, his knuckles just grazing the worn denim of her jeans. "You are bound and determined not to talk about it, aren't you?"

Oh; God. "Correct."

"You think if we just act like it never happened, then we can pretend it didn't, don't you?"

"Correct again."

She opened her eyes to find his gaze locked on her. "It did happen, Kendra. And I want to talk about it."

"Watch the road," she warned. "And I don't."

A truck rumbled by in the other direction, forcing blessed silence. Did he really want to do this? To what end?

"You're mad because I never called."

She snorted softly. "Ya think?"

His hand slid from the gearshift to her leg, his powerful palm and fingers covering half of her thigh and sending a wicked shot of excitement straight through her. She eased right out of his touch, earning a look from him.

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

She brushed her leg as though she could erase the impact of his fingertips. Yeah, right. "It's okay."

The wind off the waters of Nantucket Sound whipped her hair across her face, and she left it there, letting it hide the expressions that might give away her real feelings.

Wanting Deuce was so fundamental to her. It was like breathing.

Damn it all, nothing had changed. It was as if nearly a decade hadn't past. As if he'd come home a month after they'd shared every intimacy, and picked up without missing a beat. And her stupid, foolish girl's heart was ready to just open up again.

"Are you sure it's okay?" he asked, breaking the quiet of her thoughts.

"You're forgiven for not calling," she said quietly. Maybe if she let him off the hook, he'd back away.

"You're not lying?"

She shook her head. "I would never lie." But she didn't exactly want the whole truth out there for discussion, either.

For what seemed like an eternity, he didn't speak. Eventually, she flipped the lock of hair off her face, using it as an excuse to glance his way. His jaw was locked tight, his eyes, behind his own sunglasses, were narrowed in deep thought.

"Then I'll tell you the truth," he said.

She waited while he collected his thoughts, and passed a pickup truck.

"I had to cut off everything that was Rockingham," he finally said, so softly she almost didn't hear him over the wind and the engine of the Ford F-150 he'd just blown around.

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