Emily and the Stranger by Beverly Barton Read Free Book Online Page B

bucks, Mitch had helped his younger siblings. Now he was doing good just taking care of himself. He didn't have anything to offer a woman, let alone anything to give a child.
    "I was an only child." Emily lay back and stretched out on the quilt, then looked up at Mitch. "I've always wanted children."
    "Then I hope someday you have them." From out of nowhere the thought of this lovely woman's very pregnant body drifted into his mind. She would look beautiful all round and full, her feminine form nurturing a child. His child. "Damn!" Mitch sat up quickly, cursing himself for a fool.
    "What?" She'd heard his outburst, but had no idea what had prompted it.
    Deliberately he turned away—to avoid her searching gaze. Reaching out, he punched the Play button on her cassette player. A somewhat somber tune began, an elegant blend of strings and brass. Very gradually the music built, then dropped away, only to rebuild again and again. "Classical music, huh?"
    "Yes." Instantly she realized he was fighting to control his emotions, and she knew instinctively that it wasn't something he had to do often. "That's Tchaikovsky's Symphony no. 5 playing."
    "I don't know anything about that kind of music. I prefer good old rock 'n' roll or some hot jazz." He clinked the side of the empty juice bottle with his fingernail.
    "I love all types of music, but I must admit I'm a sucker for classical." She watched the way he kept fiddling with his empty bottle, his hands nervously caressing the glass surface. "Grammy's influence. She used to take me to concerts when I was a child. And the ballet. And the opera."
    "My old man listened to the Grand Ole Opry when I was a kid." Mitch supposed that was why, to this day, he couldn't stand country music. "We weren't very cultured, to say the least."
    "Culture isn't everything," Emily said. "I think honesty and integrity and compassion are far more important."
    He couldn't resist turning toward her, his gaze traveling the length of her slender body. For five years this one woman had haunted his dreams, had tormented him day and night. When he returned to the Gulf, he had wanted to meet Emily, to make sure she was fully recovered from the tragedy his construction firm had caused. That's all he had wanted. Just to check on her. Make sure she was all right. To see if he could do anything to help her.
    But now, after meeting her, all he could think about was what it would be like to make love to her.
    He looked at her with such undisguised longing in his eyes that Emily wanted to weep. What would this devastatingly handsome man think of her if he could see her scars? Would he be repulsed? Would he cringe at the sight of her imperfect back covered with disfigured flesh that could never be restored to its former perfection?
    Lured by the undeniable attraction that pulsated between them, Mitch found himself reaching out to touch the locket that hung from a thin chain around her neck. His big finger circled the round gold pendant. "Lady, are you what you appear to be, or are you some illusion I've dreamed up?"
    Her breath caught in her throat when his hand accidentally brushed against her breast as he continued fondling her necklace. "And just what—what do I appear to be?"
    "A very beautiful, very delicate, very sensitive lady." He wanted to pull her into his arms, to see if she would melt against him. She gazed at him as if nothing would please her more.
    Emily eased away from him, but smiled as she stroked the gold chain about her neck. Only moments before, his fingers had caressed the thin metal, and she could almost feel his touch. She had never met anyone like this man, had never reacted so strongly to another man's look or touch or the sound of his voice.
    "I think you could be a dangerous man," Emily said, admitting that he posed a threat to her self-control. Had she been wrong about him? Was it possible that he was her mystery man? Had he been the one who called "just to hear her voice"? Was he the one who had