Raquel's Abel by Leigh Barbour Read Free Book Online Page B

be over, I thought as I plodded up the stairs. After the operation, I wouldn’t have to worry about being a borderline diabetic, nor would I have to go on heart medication. And, best of all, I’d be more comfortable. My legs wouldn’t chafe together and I’d be able to squeeze between tables at restaurants.
    I grabbed my suitcase out of my closet, threw it on the bed, and began to throw in all of the things I’d need in New York. My jaw tensed as I thought about how I should be recuperating from surgery right now.
    “You look as mad as a she-bear that’s lost one of her cubs.”
    I recognized the voice and didn’t flinch, just kept on packing my bag.
    “Where are you going?” His voice was deep and mocking. I didn’t like admitting it to myself, but even now he turned me on.
    I hollered at the ceiling, “I’m going to New York. I’d be going in a better mood if you’d let me go through the surgery like I’d planned.” I slammed the suitcase closed and pulled it off the bed. I turned and my face was one inch from his.
    “You shouldn’t be so angry at me.” He wore his uniform again and he smelled of gasoline and gunpowder.
    “If I’d had that surgery, I might have lost some weight by now.” I backed up and felt my thighs hit the edge of the bed.
    His lips tensed and I saw a little dimple form in his chin. “It’s just that the thought of you being in a hospital…”
    I looked into his dark eyes, which contrasted with his blond hair. It was parted in the middle and combed back so that each piece was in its right place.
    “I don’t like seeing you so frustrated.” His dimple got deeper.
    I pointed my eyes at him hoping he’d feel guilty. “I’m only going to New York for a few days, and I’ll be back and I’ll have that surgery.”
    He stepped toward me, pinning me between him and the bed. “For me, you are a vision of loveliness. I can’t see how being more slender will make you more beautiful, but if you insist.”
    “I insist,” I said with a wry smile. I liked him being close to me. Masculinity emanated from his every pore.
    “Before you go...” He came even closer. His breath was warm and musky. “Can I kiss you?”
    “Abel,” I breathed. “You’re a ghost. You’re not real…”
    His lips touched mine. They were sweet, firm. I wrapped my arms around him feeling the crispness of his wool uniform. His fingers walked across my ampleness attempting to encircle me.
    Abel was warm and his mouth supple and tender. My eyes closed and I began to lose myself in his embrace, then there was nothing, just cold where he’d been.
    My arms were empty.
    “Where did you go?” I looked around the room. It was empty, too. My mouth longed for his. “How could you just disappear at a time like this?”

    I decided to forget him and enjoy my trip to New York. As usual, the Big Apple was wonderful. My agent booked me in a posh hotel right across from Central Park. I took a carriage ride through it, vowing that when I came back a normal weight, I’d walk through the entire thing without resting once.
    The following day I met with publishers and editors. My idea for writing on Teddy Roosevelt had been well received, so I caught the train back to Richmond in great spirits. The train ride was monotonous, but I was able to make a lot of notes about how I’d approach writing about the first President Roosevelt. As I pondered the time period I’d be writing about, I thought how ironic it was that the subject of my current novel lived during the same period of time that Abel did.
    I was already missing him. He could be exasperating, but he was so handsome. The way he looked at me made me feel more beautiful than the most exotic runway model. I couldn’t wait to get back home. But there was that nagging fear in the back of my mind.
    What if Abel was just a Freudian way of getting out of having major surgery? Could my subconscious be inventing a handsome man that preferred me rotund, just to convince me