Chasing Her Curves & Capturing Her Curves by Christa Wick & C.M. Wick

Author:Christa Wick & C.M. Wick [Wick, Christa & Wick, C.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Christa Wick

Chapter 2

Every glance from Velda’s emerald gaze cast another dagger at Shane. If he was churlish, so was she. He had come to help her—to help her shelter. He rescued her from the very real likelihood of a cracked skull. Yet she glared like he carried a can of kerosene and a lit blowtorch.

Watching a purplish bruise spread across her creamy cheek, Shane surrendered the compress. She snatched it up, gingerly pressed the ice against her flesh. Her eyes drifted shut, a relieved sigh escaping at the same time.

Free from scrutiny, he contemplated the generous curves that had always made him hard in college. Hell, everything about Velda made him hard when he was young. Her laugh. The way she bit at her lush bottom lip when he tutored her on algebra. Her generosity, her quick wit, her…everything.

"What happened?" he asked, exhaling the memories with a harsh breath.

She looked at him, confusion wrinkling her brow. A pained wince quickly followed the expression. She reached behind her, dragged forward a pipe wrench then lightly tapped it against the sink she had warned against using.

"Huh." His tone dropped to a tease. "I don't remember you being clumsy."

She lowered the compress, fire sparking in her gaze. He felt his own hot spark, not in his eyes, but in his chest. Coming to the shelter had been an impetuous mistake. A courier could have delivered the check, but his ego wanted to watch her count the many zeros.

After all, Velda was the one who abandoned their relationship. In the intervening decade, he steadily built a fortune with sweat and intellect. She returned to the same city she grew up in, to the same decaying neighborhood she had worked so hard to escape.

It was even the same damn shelter she had spent three months in as a high school freshman.

Right, he self-scolded. Stop trying to hold a civil conversation with the woman who left you without warning. Get up, leave the check on the counter, walk your ridiculous ass out.

His hand crept toward the lapel of his jacket.

"My media guy saw your post," he said, his thumb flicking the edge of the envelope hiding in the interior breast pocket. "That was some storm. Peeled off more than one roof, I hear. He said you wrote very eloquently about the impact on your shelter."

She closed her eyes, pressed the ice against her nose and cheek. Even with her gaze shuttered and part of her face obscured, he could still read the set of her mouth. The disapproving line had appeared when Shane implied that he hadn't read her post.

He was happy to foster the misconception. He had no intention of telling Velda that he had read her heartfelt plea more than once, or how he had moved from reading the post to reading her personal timeline and then scouring images on both the shelter's page and her own albums.

"I should have mailed this," he said, pulling the envelope out. "Or sent a courier."

"Yeah." She opened one eye.

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