Page 31

“In a minute.” He managed, after some difficulty, to open the door, then deposited her unceremoniously in a chair—like a sack of flour, she thought with irritation. He was pulling open the freezer section of the refrigerator and removing the ice-cube tray.

She rested her sore foot on her opposite knee and was about to remove her shoe when he stopped her. “I’ll do that.”

“Charles, you’re being ridiculous.”

He didn’t answer, but carefully drew off her shoe and sock. His fingers were tender as he examined her ankle, and it felt strangely intimate to have him touch her like this.

“I told you already—it doesn’t hurt anymore,” she argued. “I might have gotten up too fast or put my foot down wrong. I don’t feel a thing now.”

“Try standing up.”

Cautiously she did. His arm circled her waist as she gingerly placed her weight on the foot. “See,” she said, feeling both triumphant and foolish. “There doesn’t seem to be any damage.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. Try walking.”

The floor felt cool against her bare foot as she took a guarded first step. There was barely a twinge. She tried again. Same result. “See?” she said. “I’m fine.” And she proceeded to prove it by marching around the kitchen.

“Good.” Charles replaced the ice-cube tray in the freezer, but he was frowning.

“Don’t look so disappointed,” she teased as she pulled on her sock and shoe.

He glanced at her, then smiled slowly, sensually. “I’ve heard of some inventive ways to avoid kissing a man, but…” He let the rest fade as he sat down beside her, then pulled her chair toward him until they sat face to face, so close their knees touched.

Steffie shut her eyes as his hands came to rest on her shoulders. His breathing grew ragged and he whispered her name. “Stephanie,” he said, leaning forward to touch her lips with his own.

Steffie was afraid—of his kiss and of her own response. But she felt a thrill of excitement, too. He must have sensed that, because the quality of his kiss changed from gentle caress to fierce desire.

Charles groaned, and she slid her hands up his chest, delighting in the feel of hard, smooth muscles as she gave herself fully to his kiss.

Suddenly he broke away, his shoulders heaving. Steffie let her eyes flutter open and for a long silent moment they stared at each other.

His hand reached out to touch her hair, a small, intimate gesture that moved her unbearably.

Then he stretched out his arms, clasping her by the waist and lifting her from the chair to set her securely in his lap. She wasn’t given the opportunity to protest before his mouth claimed hers once more.

This time his kiss was slow and gentle, as tender as the earlier kiss had been hungry and demanding. She felt herself melting in his arms, surrendering the last of her resistance.

“I want to talk about what happened,” he whispered.

She knew what he meant, and she wanted none of it. That scene in the stable—the fall she’d faked—was much too embarrassing to examine even now. “That was in the past.”

“It has to be settled between us.”

“No,” she said, trying to change his mind with a deep, hungry kiss.

His voice was rough when she finished. “Steff, we have to clear the past before we can talk about the future.”

“We only just met, remember?” He was the one who’d suggested they start over. He couldn’t bury the past and then ask that they exhume it.

“Just listen to me…”

“Not yet,” she pleaded. Maybe never, her heart whispered, balking at the idea of reliving a time that had been so painful for her.

“Soon.” He tangled his fingers in her hair and spread kisses across her face.

“Maybe,” she agreed reluctantly.

The sound of laughter broke into the haze of her pleasure. At least Steffie assumed it was laughter. It took her a wild moment to realize the sound was coming from the porch, and that it must be her father. Not knowing what to think, she slowly broke away from Charles.