Delaney's Sunrise. Rhonda Lee Carver

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СКАЧАТЬ a twist of her wrist, she let the curtain drop and jumped back. She brought a shaky hand to her chest and ordered her body not to betray her. She closed her eyes and forced her breathing to slow. Abe was a mere man. He had no control over her. Or did he?

      It’d taken months of mental preparation, as well as exhaustive planning, for her to come back to the farm. When she had left, she’d sworn she’d never return under any circumstances. Not as long as Abe remained.

      She had been engaged to Jacob for less than two days when he’d brought her to Delaney’s Farm. She hadn’t been ready to meet the older, tougher brother Jacob had told her about. Jacob never could have prepared her for Abe. She remembered all too well how he’d besieged her with his curious chocolate-colored eyes. They had burned a hole through her then–as they would now.

      She brushed her clammy palms down her pants and fidgeted with the lace edging her top. She’d have to face Abe again, sooner or later. Time to get it over with.

      Taking a seat at the vanity, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. It seemed as though the hands of time had molded her face with their cool touch. People said she was pretty. She supposed it was true, in a classic, delicate way. Her hair was a shade of light chestnut, natural–unlike her friends, who had to color theirs every three months.

      Her skin was fair, and she never tanned. Her mother had told her a hundred times that wrinkles were never flattering. Her pale, freckled nose and cheeks were the legacy of her equally pale, freckled grandmother.

      She puckered her lips. They were thin. Ever since she could remember, she’d wished for a supple, full pout. However, just like her breasts, her lips had never reached ample proportions.

      Oh well. There was more to life than big breasts and full lips.

      She did have an ample brain, at least.

      With a glance down her clothes, she sighed. The pink, frilly, long-sleeved shirt, gray slacks and tall boots made her look like a professional attending an important conference. She knew Abe. He’d get a laugh out of her outfit. He would think she was foolish wearing high heels on a farm. She would stick out among the horse barns and greenery like a sore thumb.

      She changed into a pair of dark denims, tight t-shirt, and boots. “Calm and collected,” she repeated to herself as she emerged from the bedroom.

      She found Abe in exactly the same spot where she’d met him five years ago: sitting on the front porch. He stared at the blueberry bushes as if searching for answers in the tranquil scenery. He was probably asking Mother Nature how he could get her off his land.

      Some things never changed. Had Dee really believed Abe would? Men like him never changed. He made people come to him. No doubt he’d have sat there and waited until she made the first move.

      Stepping through the creaky screen door, she made her way toward him. The summer heat brushed a soft breeze across her face, warming her. Sweat beaded on her upper lip, but she attributed it to frayed nerves more than the temperature. She wiped the moisture, paused and waited. He knew she was there, but made no effort to look at her.

      Wasn’t he the least bit curious? Turn and look at me!

      She followed his gaze out over the blueberry grove. The cloudy sky promised rain, and a group of deer ate grass along the edge of the trees. She swept her eyes over him. His hair was longer, covering his ears and nearly touching the collar of his flannel button-down. A layer of stubble dusted his cheeks, and his jaw was set in a tight, grim line.

      She silently urged him to acknowledge her. She wished he’d make this easier for them both.

      He brought his hand to his mouth, sucking on the cigarette he clamped between his fingers. He inhaled and exhaled as if it were a ritual. Finally, he took one last, long drag and ground the butt out on the wooden post.

      Without anything to keep him occupied, he turned and caught her with a piercing look. It shook her to the core. It was clear by his narrowed, hard eyes and the bitter scowl that he would be doing everything in his power to make her stay here a bad experience.

      She wanted to turn tail and rush back into the house, to find solace in her bedroom alone, but she stood her ground. She controlled her body, refusing to quiver under his raw scrutiny, even while she turned into gelatin inside.

      He was only a man. She told herself to not back down.

      Holding her head high and her back straight as a rod, she endured the sweet pain as his gaze scoured every inch of her. He visually caressed her, from the roots of her hair to the very tip of her new, shiny boots. His examination was purposeful and exaggerated, as if he intended to unnerve her.

      Unfortunately, he did. The strength in his menacing eyes, his high cheekbones, and large frame were enough to alarm anyone.

      Time had worked its invisible hands on him, too. Lines etched the skin around his eyes and mouth, but age hadn’t taken anything away from his striking good looks. Instead, he appeared more distinguished and breathtaking. She couldn’t deny the attraction that drew her. He was desirable, and could be devastatingly charming when he wanted to be. He just never wanted to be.

      She’d always believed Abe was born in the wrong era. He should have lived and fought with the likes of Jesse James and Doc Holliday. Seeing him sitting there with his worn, torn jeans, his old shirt and scuffed boots, one would never guess he was a man who’d once worked in a multi-billion dollar financial organization.

      Dee hadn’t known Abe then. But she’d heard he wore Armani suits, drove a fancy car and lived in a luxurious penthouse in Manhattan.

      Their eyes met. His were icy. She reminded herself they shared common interest...and familiar pain.

      “I’m glad you got my letter.” Her words sounded weak, edged in fear, even to her own ears. “I didn’t think it was fair to just show up without notice.”

      He kept his gaze steady, locking her in place with its intensity. “What the hell are you doing here?”

      She swallowed, her throat dry. “Thanks for the warm welcome. I knew I could count on your hospitality.”

      “You didn’t answer my question.” His voice deepened.

      Calm and sure, she ordered her nerves.

      He wanted to scare her into running away. She’d given him that pleasure five years ago, but never again, even if it meant growing a thicker skin and an even thicker heart.

      “Abe, do I really need to answer that question?”

      One booted foot propped against the railing, and the other stretched out in front of him as if he had no concern in the world. He slowly eased himself up until he stood his full height, six foot two, and a good two-hundred pounds. She knew he didn’t have an ounce of fat under his shirt and jeans. As he moved, his shirt clung to six-pack abs and toned biceps. She’d forgotten how intimidating his tall frame could be, especially compared to her five foot four, one-hundred-ten pound frame.

      He crossed the short distance between them. The scuff of his boots deafened her. Rolling her head back on tight shoulders, she looked up at him, refusing to squirm no matter how heated his gaze grew. He stopped within inches, towering over her.

      “You’re not welcome here.” His voice was a raspy whisper. His lips thinned, and one corner СКАЧАТЬ