Work of Heart by Cindi Myers

Work of Heart by Cindi Myers

Author:Cindi Myers
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook, book
ISBN: 9780757391965
Publisher: Health Communications, Inc.
Published: 2011-02-01T00:00:00+00:00


Ten

Being powerless

To live your dreams is the worst

Punishment of all.

AFTER TRAVELING TO THREE CITIES IN A WEEK, Danny was jet-lagged and looking forward to sleeping in his own bed. And he was anxious to see Nina. He’d missed her more than he’d anticipated, though they’d talked every day on the phone. At night, when he had trouble falling asleep in unfamiliar hotel rooms, he found himself thinking of her, remembering the way her eyes shone with laughter when something amused her or the funny faces she made when she was concentrating on her work.

When the taxi dropped him in front of the apartment, he grabbed his bag from the trunk and took the stairs two at a time. Nina had offered to pick him up at the airport, but he hadn’t wanted to put her to so much trouble. And he’d liked the idea of surprising her, of walking into the apartment to find her waiting.

He liked this moment of returning, of stepping into familiar surroundings and seeing them, at least for a moment, with fresh eyes. The first thing he noticed as he set his bags on the floor was how different the room smelled, like oil paints and turpentine and fresh coffee and feminine perfume . . . like Nina. A magazine lay open on the sofa, a coffee cup on the floor beside it. A pair of her sandals sat by the door. A dozen framed photographs filled the once-empty wall to his right. He recognized some of the pictures they’d taken that night in Coney Island. He remembered how much he’d wanted to kiss her that night and the desire returned, stronger now that he knew how wonderful kissing her could be.

The door to the guest bedroom opened and she emerged, hair tousled, a smudge of blue paint on her chin. “Danny!” Her eyes lit with welcome. “I wasn’t expecting you until tonight.”

“I was able to get an earlier flight.” He held out his arms and she came to him, all soft curves and silken hair and tender lips and the perfume and paint smell that was Nina. They kissed for a long time, until both were breathless.

“I missed you,” she said.

“I missed you, too.” He wiped at the smudge of paint with his thumb.

She laughed. “I’m working on a new painting.”

“Show me.”

She led him into the bedroom, and he admired the work on the easel, a shore scene from Nova Scotia. But they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, and soon they were rolling around on the bed that had been in her apartment, clothing tossed to the floor a piece at a time, like wrapping torn from birthday gifts. They made love with the passion of two people determined to make up for lost time. Afterward, when they lay twined together atop the rumpled bedclothes, she grinned at him. “Welcome home.”

“I’m glad to be home.” He kissed the tip of her nose and snuggled closer. He might have fallen asleep, but his stomach growled.



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