9781618850676UnchainedMelodyHunter (10 page)

He
decided not to press her. She looked as if she were about to snap. “So, you
wrote all night?” He watched her with hooded eyes. “Do you do that often?”

“Sometimes.
I came here because I was experiencing a pretty bad case of writer’s block. My
editor, Cecile, recommended your B&B for its restful atmosphere and
beautiful scenery. She thought I might be inspired here.” She climbed up onto a
barstool and flipped on the coffee pot she had prepared the night before. “Join
me, please. If you have time.” She was playing with fire here, she knew, but
she craved the warmth the flames provided.

He
accepted her invitation, but he moved the stool close enough so when he sat on
it, his leg touched hers. “And were you…inspired, I mean?” He laid his hand
next to hers on the bar and let his little finger reach out to lightly rub the
edge of her hand. It was the most innocent of caresses, yet it caused goose
bumps to rise up over much of her body. The coffee pot beeped its status and
she answered its call, rising quickly and gathering mugs from the cabinet and
cream from the refrigerator.

“Yes,
I guess I was. I probably wrote forty pages last night.”

“What
kind of books did you say you wrote?”

Time
to change the subject. She didn’t know how to deal with his aversion to romance
writers, so the longer she avoided it the better. “Do you still want to go out
with me for dinner tonight?”

Her
question caught him off guard. “But of course,” he readily answered. She poured
his mug full of coffee and took the cloth covering off the tray.

“Oh,
wow!” she rejoiced over cinnamon rolls and raisin muffins. He smiled. If food
could still excite her, he knew he had a chance.

“Where
would you like to go on our date?” She almost choked on a bite of muffin. She
hadn’t thought of it as a date, after all they had never actually gone out on a
date before. She had never been alone with him in a vehicle or sat beside him
in a public place, their only time together had been at a campsite on Lake
Travis for eight glorious nights of lovemaking.

“Lone-star
Lane, maybe.” She suggested a great local restaurant on the drag by the
university.

“Lone-star
has good food, but absolutely no atmosphere. Pick some place more romantic,
sweetheart.” His knee made contact with hers. The heat was intense.

“Ethan,
I’ve never been to a romantic restaurant in Austin.”
Or anywhere else.

“No?”
He looked at her with disbelief. “During your time in Austin, you were never
taken to a dark, romantic restaurant where your boyfriend could steal kisses
and run his hand up your thigh, like this?”

Before
she realized it, he had his hand under her gown and warm strong fingers were
massaging her upper thigh. Another inch or two and he would encounter a scar. She
placed her hand over his, effectively blocking his forward progress. “No,
Ethan. If you want to go to a restaurant like that, you’ll have to select it
yourself.” He let her hold his hand through her gown.

“All
right, I can do that.” The fingers of his hand began to move over her smooth,
warm skin. “So soft, you are so soft, baby,” he closed his eyes and enjoyed the
tactile sensation of his skin on hers.

“Ethan,
if we are going to have a good time tonight. I need to go back to bed.” It was
true, but what she really needed to do was put some distance between her and
this large temptation making her body betray the strict limitations she had
placed upon it.

“I’ll
go with you.” He rose, towering over her.

“No,
you won’t. I need to sleep, Ethan.” Tired, she was losing her will to fight him
and if he didn’t leave soon, she was going to crawl up in his big arms and make
herself at home. Sleep. And after she rested, love him for all he was worth. But
that couldn’t happen, so she had to get rid of him, now. She attempted to push
him toward the door and would have had more luck trying to push a mountain.

“Okay,
okay. I’ll go, but I will be back to collect you at six tonight, which is,” he
looked at the clock on the wall, “ten hours from now. Wear something sexy. Although,
I can’t imagine anything you put on not being sexy. You are so hot, babe.” Before
she realized, he had drawn close. “Just a taste, Lise. Please? I need you so
badly.” Gentle but firm hands grasped her by the shoulders and drew her closer
then
his warm, hard, broad, magnificent body pinned her to
the wall. He ravished her lips—their breath coming in gasps—he plunged his tongue
deep within her mouth, stroking hers into submission. He kissed her as if he
were reclaiming what was rightfully his. He found no rejection. From the first
touch of his lips to hers something within her thawed. Six years slipped away
and she had no choice but to respond. It was as if she were returning home. Her
arms longed to wrap around his neck, but she drove her fingernails deep into
her palms, in a desperate attempt to salvage a modicum of control.

Both
drew back, gasping for breath. “That is what a kiss is supposed to be like. Tonight,
I want more.” He straightened her hair, her robe and stole one last soft, sweet
kiss. “I’ll be back.” He left her standing there, shaking.

* * * *

Annalise
had trouble getting to sleep, but when she did, she slept like the dead. Waking
at four, she realized she only had two hours to get ready for Ethan.

She
had trouble deciding what to wear. He wanted sexy, but in the last six years the
term sexy only applied to her stories, not to her wardrobe. It was late August and
still hot in all parts of Texas, so all she brought were cool, cotton
sundresses. She wished she had time to go out and buy something else, but she had
slept the day away. Oh well, this would just have to do. After a hot shower,
she chose a white eyelet sundress. Annalise underestimated the impact of the
ultra feminine garment. Her golden skin and dark hair stood in stark contrast
to the virginal, innocent, angelic looking outfit. She couldn’t see it, but
frankly she looked like ‘naughty’ trying to look ‘nice’. Her breasts teased the
top of the dress, the tiny spaghetti straps looking too fragile to keep their
bountiful prisoners in check. It fell in soft tiny pleats from an empire
waistline to just below the knee. She didn’t even own a pair of hose and her
shoes were simple, white, strappy sandals.

When
she finished dressing, she walked Tiny, fed him and apologized for going off
and leaving him. It hadn’t happened very often. If she had a nerve pill, she
would have taken it. Ethan was going to be hard to resist.

When
the knock came at the door, she jumped. After calming the dog, she opened the
door and found Ethan looking devastatingly handsome in a gray suit coat, light
blue shirt and gray slacks. She felt woefully underdressed. He didn’t have on a
tie, but he still looked like a million dollars. “My God, you’re beautiful,” she
said honestly.

He
laughed. “You are so good for my ego, babe.”

“Ethan,
I can’t go with you! Look at me, I have on playwear!” Annalise was mortified. “Can’t
you dress down a little, please; I don’t have anything nicer with me.”

“You
are the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen and playwear sounds perfect.” He held out
his hand. “Come with me. There is nothing I’d rather do than play with you.” She
allowed him to lead her to his car. She had seen the pick-up last night; she
should have known it wasn’t his only form of transportation. Parked in front of
her cabin was a brand new silver Dodge Viper.

“Wow,
you look like your car,” she breathed. He laughed out loud.

“I’ll
take that as a compliment.” He opened the door to the incredibly sexy car so
she could slide in. “Lise, you have a way of making a man feel like a man. I
have missed that.”

“Ethan,
how could you possibly feel any other way?” He wasn’t making any sense. “You
have always been the most self-confident, secure in your own skin, sexy as
hell, man’s man I have ever known.” She watched him sober. Before starting the
car, he turned and looked at her seriously.

“I
have felt more like a man with you today than I have felt in a long, long time.”

Ethan’s
words disturbed her more than she could say. What could he have meant? Francine
had been the sexiest woman Annalise had ever been around. Surely together their
passion had been nuclear. The images coming to mind hurt her heart. How could
he ever doubt himself?

The
Viper roared down Lonely Street and out to the main highway. Being in the close
quarters of the luxury car with him was heady business. The sun was still up,
although it wouldn’t be for long, but she could see him as he controlled the
high-powered car with finesse and grace. The sound of the powerful engine was a
turn-on.
Just admit it: being close to
him is the turn on. Tonight is going to be one exquisite form of torture.

He
drove her to an Italian restaurant on Capitol of Texas Highway, an incredibly
beautiful place called Selena’s. He parked and came over to open the door for
her. Annalise was so unused to this type of attentiveness, she just sat there a
moment, hesitating to get out. He smiled, causing her heart to turn over and held
out his hand. She took it, enjoying the heated way he was looking at her. Ethan
was so gentle and caring, her whole body shivered with nervous excitement. Placing
her hand on his arm, he drew her close. He was so careful with her, she felt
cherished and special. The sun beginning to set over the Tuscan villa cast
golden rays over the terra cotta roof and the massive stone walls. “Ethan, this
place is so beautiful. Thank you for bringing me.”

“You
are so welcome, love. Taking you anywhere is a pleasure. I can’t believe how
beautiful you are tonight…more beautiful than the setting sun, more beautiful
than that red rose blooming by the wall, more beautiful than the stars just
beginning to show their faces.” When he looked at her tenderly, it was all she could
to keep from pulling him down for a kiss.

He
opened the door for her and they stepped within the welcoming foyer. Ethan
asked the maitre de’ to escort them to a private room. Annalise only wished she
were dressed more appropriately, a quick glance at other couples and the
beautiful dresses the women wore made her want to drape herself in one of the
linen tablecloths. She decided not to dwell on it; she didn’t want to spoil
Ethan’s pleasure. The scent of wood smoke, garlic and fresh baked bread permeated
the air. After winding through several rooms, they were shown to a secluded
table, tucked back in a beautifully decorated nook. Ethan held her chair and
she thanked him once again.

A
word to a waiter brought a bottle of wine and two crystal goblets. A loaf of
savory bread and tub of creamy butter were set before them. Much to
Annalise’s
dismay, her stomach growled the slightest bit. She
glanced up at him, embarrassed. Ethan covered his hand with hers, “Don’t look
like that, love. I find your appetite for food almost as endearing as your
appetite for sex.”

She
didn’t know what to say to that, so she said nothing. Instead, she thought the
safest thing would be to engage him in conversation—about anything other than
herself.

“Tell
me about the bed and breakfast. How did you come to choose to do that with your
life?”

“I
love
Lost
Maples
. It is extremely fulfilling, taking care of a home and the
grounds. Believe it or not, it was Francine’s dream. She didn’t stay to see it
happen and I’m glad she didn’t. But if it hadn’t been for her, I would still be
in New York, deep in the rat race.”

“Francine
always had impeccable taste.” She was referring to the
Lost Maples
and the whole romantic
concept of the B&B, but when her eyes met his, he knew she was talking
about him.

“Francine
may have had an eye for what she wanted, but she had no idea how to take care
of it, once it was hers.” She tried to discern exactly what he was saying. She
couldn’t.

“How
long were you married?” Stop asking questions about Francine, she chided
herself.

He
didn’t seem to mind. “A miserable two years.”

“I’m
so sorry, Ethan.” She foolishly placed a sympathetic hand over his. The wine
was going to her head, she felt flushed and was afraid to look down—her nipples
were beginning to stand at attention just from the close proximity of her
former lover. Thankfully, there were tiny pleats over the bodice masking her
excitement.

“I’m
just glad to be free of her. On to a more pleasant topic—maybe. Whom did you
marry?”

Annalise
laughed. “Certainly not a more pleasant topic, my marriage was a bigger mistake
than yours, I’m sure.”

“Tell
me about him.” He had flipped her hand over, caressing her palm with his long,
strong fingers.

Annalise
saw no harm in telling him part of the story. “He was on staff at my parent’s
church. I let him rush me, I was confused. My parents pushed me. But the good
thing was that it was over before it began.”

“What
do you mean?”

Annalise
struggled with what to say, without saying too much. “Our wedding night proved
to be a big disappointment to him.”