Calder Storm by Janet Dailey Read Free Book Online

stranger.
    He had an intense desire to know every single thing about her. No detail seemed too trivial. Yet, at the same time, he had a feeling that the minute she turned those dark blue eyes on him, he wouldn’t care about any of them. That knowledge rattled him a little—that, and the realization that no other woman he’d met had ever affected him this way.
    When they arrived at the motel, Trey wasted no time moving to her side. He caught a glimpse of the sharp-eyed night clerk taking note of their passage as they crossed the lobby. The minute they turned into the softly lit corridor, a hot tension gripped him, knotting everything inside him.
    â€œHave you made any plans for tomorrow?” He heard the ring of demand in his voice and shot a quick look at Sloan, but she didn’t appear to have noticed.
    â€œMe and my camera will be checking out the parade,” she answered lightly, then eyed him curiously. “Will you be riding in it?”
    â€œNo.” His answer was more abrupt than he meant it to be, but it didn’t seem to be something he could control and still keep a tight rein on all the lusting needs ripping through him.
    â€œThis is it.” She angled toward a door, then faced him with a natural grace, idly letting a shoulder rest against the frame. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at the arena.”
    Her casual tone was almost indifferent. It acted like a verbal stiff-arm to keep him at a distance. Trey halted, muscles tensing in resistance, knowing that he felt anything but indifference toward her. And he had no intention of hiding his feelings on that score.
    â€œTomorrow can’t come soon enough as far as I’m concerned,” he stated. “And that isn’t a line. It’s the truth.”
    â€œThanks.” She smiled, a deep pleasure lighting her eyes. Then it faded to something wistful and tinged with regret. “I’m looking forward to it, too.”
    But the response seemed to be the polite kind dictated by good manners—and that was far from satisfactory to Trey.
    â€œI hope you mean that, because I’d like to end this evening the same way we started it.” His gaze never left her face, alert for those subtle signals from a woman that every man recognized.
    Instead of averting her eyes or lowering her chin, both indications of a reluctance to repeat the earlier kiss, her glance slid to his mouth, then flashed to his eyes, her head tilting fractionally in an age-old invitation.
    Trey didn’t wait for the words. Bracing one hand against the wall near her head, he cupped the other to the side of her neck, tipping her head the rest of the way while he brought his mouth down to the soft line of her lips. He tasted their yielding warmth, but it was the responding pressure of them, seeking and exploring in return, that inflamed him.
    Still, he made no move to gather her into his arms, pride insisting that any further contact would be instigated by Sloan. With senses honed razor-fine, he felt that first small sway of her body toward him. Her hands glided onto his rib cage as if to steady her balance.
    Their touch broke through the restraint Trey had placed on himself, and he gathered her in, fitting her round shape to his hard contours. He fed on her lips, eating them with a hunger thatforced them apart. Inside was her tongue, waiting to eagerly mate with his.
    Heat swirled and needs rose. His hands moved over her, alternately caressing and molding her more firmly to him in a vain attempt to absorb her into him. Frustration only increased the demand.
    Her hands flattened themselves against his chest in mute resistance. Their pressure had no more than registered when she twisted her head away to break off the kiss.
    The glance she lifted to his face was sharp with challenge. “It’s late.” It was no innocent phrase, but a demand to be released, couched to appeal to his nobler side.
    At the moment, Trey wasn’t