Surrender the Dark by Donna Kauffman

Author:Donna Kauffman [Kauffman, Donna]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Contemporary, Fiction, Romance, General, Contemporary Romance, Contemporary Women
ISBN: 9780553444711
Google: NC5i921FW7QC
Amazon: B0086MKPWM
Publisher: Bantam
Published: 1994-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

NINE

With more determination than he thought he possessed, Jarrett slid his thumb from her mouth, replaced it for several brutally short seconds with his mouth, then carefully eased his weight off her. He rolled over, shifting away from her, not trusting himself enough at that moment even to look at her. He only hoped to God she didn’t say anything.

He was damn lucky she hadn’t broken every bone in his body when he’d rolled on top of her. A small smile curved his lips, amazing him at how much easier it was each time. That she hadn’t even tried to get him off her had sent his ego and confidence soaring. Which had also confounded him, since he’d questioned neither in a very long time.

“Do you want to use the phone or the fax?” she asked a few minutes later.

The sound of her voice affected him as he’d known it would, and he shifted in increased discomfort. He wasn’t sure hours of silence would dim the effect her voice, still husky with the passion they’d only begun to explore, had on his body. He was convinced nothing would ever erase it entirely.

He didn’t look at her. Instead he probed the area around his wound, the pain only now registering. “Do you have an internal fax modem in your computer?” he asked.

“Yes. I guess that would be the least risky.”

His fingers hit an especially sore spot just above the entrance wound, and he flinched before he thought to control the automatic reaction.

Rae must have been watching him, because she immediately knelt in front of him. “You’ve probably destroyed all my pretty stitches,” she said, sighing in mock grievance. “And I worked so hard on them too.” Only when she reached out to push his hands away did he move.

His hand clamped over her wrist the instant before she touched him, the action swift and totally instinctive. “Don’t.” He said it more harshly than he’d intended. Not at all liking how much his terse command might have revealed, he carefully added, “I can handle it. Why don’t you boot up the computer.”

She stared at him for a moment, then shook her head. “Don’t be such a baby,” she said, shifting her gaze back to his leg and tugging at his grip. She reached with her other hand. “I just want to make sure you’re not bleeding.”

He caught that hand, too, and held on tight until she stilled and looked at him. He drew her forward, until she was kneeling between his thighs. The honest concern in her eyes stirred him up further, defeating any ability he had for pretense. “The only thread that’s going to snap is the one holding my control. So unless you plan on being naked in the next thirty seconds, I suggest you go boot up the computer.”

Her look of confusion changed swiftly to one of recognition. Only a blind man would have missed the banked desire struggling to be contained behind a facade of concern. He was many things—frustrated, confused, and intensely aroused—but he wasn’t blind.

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