Holding Hands by Judith Arnold Read Free Book Online Page A

again. “I’ll go wash, and
then we can have breakfast.” The rabbit-food she’d called dinner
hadn’t filled her up very well.
    She carried her bag into the bathroom with
her and shut the door. The lights flanking the oval mirror above
the pedestal sink glared. Her complexion was imprinted with faint
lines from wrinkles in the pillow case. At least she hoped it was
the pillow and not her age that had caused those lines.
    The shower felt heavenly. She lathered her
hair, replacing the scent of Scott’s shampoo with the lush floral
scent of hers. Then she dried herself off, brushed her teeth and
made use of the hair drier hanging from a wall bracket beside the
mirror. Ah, the luxuries of modern living, she thought as her hair
dried beneath the hot gust blasting through the nozzle. Thank God
for electricity.
    Her hair done, she plucked some underwear
from her bag. Her gaze caught on the teddy, neatly folded and
tucked into a corner, and she pulled it out.
    Breakfast could wait. So could arguing.
    She donned the lacy, tempting garment and
shivered. She felt colder wearing it than she’d felt completely
naked after her shower. What if Scott thought she was nuts? What if
he looked at her and said, “Why aren’t you dressed?”
    If he did, she’d get dressed. And grab her
keys and drive to the veterinary clinic to spend the day with a
creature who appreciated her.
    Drawing in a deep breath, she squared her
shoulders and opened the door, feeling even more chilled as the
cooler air outside the bathroom wrapped around her.
    Scott finished typing something on his
computer, then glanced up. And gaped.
    She stood frozen on the textured rug,
waiting, her nerves stringing tighter and tighter in the silence
that stretched between them. Finally, she couldn’t stand it any
longer. “Say something.”
    “ Wow,” he said.
    She stopped shivering and took a step toward
him. He practically hurled the laptop onto the table beside him and
sprang from the chair. When he was less than a foot away from her,
he halted.
    “ What?” she
asked.
    “ Take it off,” he said, then
yanked his T-shirt over his head.
    She wanted to laugh, but he looked so
serious, so intent. Maybe he was comparing her to his students,
those gorgeous young things with smooth, glowing skin and no
creases marking their faces. Maybe he wanted to see how she
measured up, whether she could hold his attention when they were
both wide awake and no one better was around.
    Then he hauled her into his arms and kissed
her, and she stopped thinking.
    His chest was warm and solid against her. His
mouth was hot and firm. He held her so tightly she couldn’t remove
the teddy, but he accomplished that task for her, drawing the
delicate straps off her shoulders and down her arms, breaking the
kiss only to nuzzle her throat, to lean back and shove the teddy
further down her body. She slid her hands over the smooth skin of
his back, down to his butt, and he groaned.
    He spun her around, lifted her off her feet,
tossed her onto the bed with as much energy as he’d tossed aside
his laptop a moment ago. Then he dove onto the mattress beside her,
kicking the quilt aside and letting the soft linen sheets cradle
them. He eased the teddy over her hips and away. She slid open his
fly and shoved his jeans down his legs.
    No, he didn’t need Viagra.
    The air in the cabin shimmered with their
quiet moans, the rustle of linen, the whisper of skin against skin.
He tangled his fingers through the hair she’d so carefully
blow-dried and styled. He grazed her collarbones, claimed her
breasts with kisses, moved against her until her want for him grew
into an exquisite ache. And then he took her.
    Maybe he didn’t look at her
anymore. Maybe he didn’t listen to her. But right now, for this one
precious moment, he wanted her. They were fully alive again,
husband and wife, partners, lovers. He
wanted her .
    It was over quickly, both of them shuddering
as they came, their bodies pulsing together.