Bachelor Untamed. Brenda Jackson
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Название: Bachelor Untamed
Автор: Brenda Jackson
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781408977637
isbn:
From his porch, he hadn’t seen all of her, but he had seen enough, and his body had been aching ever since. The thin material of her nightgown had barely covered a curvaceous body and a pair of firm breasts. Because of the way the window was made, he hadn’t been able to see anything below her waist, so he could only imagine. And that imagination had gotten the best of him. It still was.
He drew in a deep breath and decided it was time for a cold shower. Since coming of age he’d had his share of women, but he’d never been in what he would consider a serious relationship with any of them, and he’d always made absolutely sure the two of them were on the same page. He hadn’t wanted any woman to assume anything, and felt it was up to him to make sure they didn’t. One or two had tried and were dropped like a hot potato as a result.
Uriel wanted to think of himself as a unselfish lover, and he would be quick to admit to being in control of all his relationships. There hadn’t been any woman who’d made him regret walking away. There might be some things beyond his control, but managing a woman wasn’t one of them.
As he headed up the stairs for his shower, he decided that he would stay inside most of the day and get some reading done—and try like hell to forget about his next door neighbor. He figured she would be staying inside most of the day, as well.
She’d indicated last night that she would be going through her aunt’s things. He wondered if she was up, or if she was still sleeping off the effects of the wine she had downed. He had watched her consume a whole glass at the window, not to mention the glass she’d had while he had been there.
He recalled how he had felt sitting across from her in that living room last night. Once they had cleared the air about what had happened that day ten years ago, he had relaxed and opened up his mind and thoughts to numerous possibilities. Some had been too shocking to dwell on in her presence, so he had left before he was tempted to get into trouble.
He might have retreated last night, and would lay low most of the week, but when he felt the time was right, he would do something that was beginning to vex him. He had kissed the sixteen-year-old Ellie ten years ago, and now he had a strong urge to see how the grown-up Ellie tasted.
Ellie glanced around her aunt’s desk. The drawers were locked, and she figured there had to be a key somewhere. A serious expression appeared on her face as she tried to consider just how her aunt’s mind worked. Where would Aunt Mable hide the key?
She smiled and then reached out and picked up the framed photo of her and her aunt taken last year when Aunt Mable had visited her in Boston. On this particular night they had gone to a musical featuring a renowned pianist. It had been around Easter and the weather in Boston had been freezing. They were all bundled up in hooded coats while smiling for the camera.
That had been less than six months ago. Ellie fought the tears that threatened to fall at the memory. No, she wouldn’t cry. Her aunt had lived a good life, a full life, and she had been happy. Ellie wished she could live as full a life as her aunt had.
Instinctively, she carefully pulled the back off the frame and her smile widened when the key dropped out. Feeling quite smug at her accomplishment, she picked up the key and began opening the drawers. Most of the items, all neatly arranged, were office supplies—computer paper, ink cartridges for the printer, pencils and pens.
She opened another drawer and pulled out a stack of papers that were rubber-banded together. She lifted a curious brow when the first sheet said, in a bold font, Make me Yours, by Flame Elbam.
Flame.
Ellie quickly recalled where she’d seen the name “Flame” before and glanced across the room at the risqué painting on the wall. Raising her brow, she settled back in the chair, flipped through the pages and swiftly came to the conclusion that these pages were part of a manuscript. Who did it belong to?
She stopped flipping the pages when a word—one that denoted a male body part—jumped out at her, quickly grabbing her attention. She blinked a few times and then, for clarity’s sake, decided she needed to read the entire sentence, but she ended up reading the complete paragraph. Afterward, she swallowed deeply, felt the heat that infused her body and wondered where the heck an ice-cold glass of water was when you needed it. Whew! What on earth was her aunt doing with something like this?
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