Heart Craving by Sandra Hill Read Free Book Online Page A

gripped the steering wheel with a vengeance, turning the knuckles white. Staring straight ahead, he agreed, “Right.” But there was a gritty tone to his voice.
    “And you are most definitely not going to ‘jump my bones.’”
    A grin tugged at his firm lips. “Right.”
    “No hanky-panky.”
    He gave her a sideways glance of amusement. “Define hanky-panky.”
    She laughed. This was the old Nick—the one she’d fallen in love with five years ago. What had changed him into the somber, overly protective, possessive, withdrawn male of recent years? She remembered their early days together when he’d been just like he was now—teasing, carefree, irresistibly charming, devastatingly attractive, sexy as hell. Oh, Lord, I am playing with fire. This is a big mistake.
    “Did you groan?” he asked.
    “No, it was probably the wind.” She tossed her head back and let her hair blow in the breeze. “Who lent you the Volkswagen convertible?”
    At first, he didn’t answer, and she sat up straighter, suddenly suspicious. “Nick?”
    “Okay, I bought it for you, but don’t get your hackles up. The dealer said you could bring the Volvo in for the trade-in next week. It’s not as if it’s a gift or anything.”
    “You traded in my car?” she sputtered. “I don’t believe you! You actually traded in my car without asking me?”
    “Geez, Paula, you said I never listen to you. Just yesterday, remember , you complained that you always wanted a VW convertible, and I got you a Volvo.”
    Tears of frustration smarted her eyes. “You just don’t get it, do you, Nick?”
    He pulled to a stop in the parking lot of the high school, flipped off the ignition, and turned toward her, clearly aggravated. “What now? No matter what I do these days, I piss you off. I just can’t seem to please you, no matter what. You want a car, you don’t want a car. You want a dog, you don’t want a dog. You want to move, you don’t want to move. Make up your mind.”
    “Oh, you are a real piece of work, DiCello. Do you really believe our marriage went to hell in a hand-basket over a stupid car? Or a mangy mutt?”
    “God knows! Because I sure as hell don’t.” He got out of the car and stomped around to her side, opening her door with a jerk, almost pulling it off its hinges. When she got out and stood before him, he slammed it shut with a bang. He breathed in and out several times to calm his temper, just the way he always did. Then his shoulders slumped. “C’mon, Paula, let’s forget the fighting . . . just for tonight.”
    She wanted to reach up and smooth the frown from his suntanned forehead, to brush his unruly ebony hair off his face, to erase the look of hurt in his eyes. But all she could do was agree. “Okay. Friends . . . for tonight.”
    He muttered something foul under his breath about friends.
    “What?”
    “I said, let’s not fight. I didn’t say I wanted to be your BFF or whatever you call it.” With a grumble of disgust, he took her elbow, leading her toward the school entrance. “And don’t be surprised if that VW convertible is stolen while we’re inside.”
    Dancing the night away . . .
    MIDNIGHT CAME too quickly. Time to go home. But Nick didn’t want the night to end. “One more dance?” he asked.
    “Definitely,” Paula said with a sigh. Like a cloud of her lemony perfume, she drifted into his arms, which encircled her waist. Leaning her head back, she looked up at him dreamily.
    She had curled her shoulder-length auburn hair so that it looked expertly mussed and incredibly wanton. Her green eyes appeared misty.
    “Thank you, Nick, for a wonderful, wonderful evening. I haven’t had this much fun in a long, long time.”
    “The pleasure was mine, babe,” he said, pulling her closer. The band was playing a slow, steamy backdrop to the singer’s not-so-bad rendition of that old Meatloaf song, “I Would Do Anything For Love.”
    That was for sure!
    “I think your captain got a big kick