Intimate Betrayal. Donna Hill

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СКАЧАТЬ over her eyes, she groped for the phone with the other.

      “H-ello?”

      “Hey, girl. It’s me Lynnette. I’m at O’Hare on the next flight to L.A. I should be arriving at 5:00 p.m. your time.”

      “O-kay,” she mumbled, struggling to get her thoughts to focus.

      “Reese,” Lynnette said, suddenly alert to Reese’s disoriented tone. “What’s wrong? Are you sick? I tried calling you all evening.”

      “No,” she mumbled. “Really, I’m fine.”

      “Don’t lie to me, Reese. It’s the headaches again, isn’t it? Tell me.”

      “Yes,” she cried, burying her face in her hands. “And I don’t know why. I was fine—until—I left Chicago.”

      “Something is triggering them. We need to just figure out what it is. What about the nightmares?” She held her breath.

      “Those, too,” she admitted in a ragged voice.

      “Hang in there, girl. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

      “Thank you, Lynn.”

      “It’s gonna be cool. Gotta go, they’re calling my flight.” Lynnette hung up and dashed across the terminal, all the while thinking of her friend who was more like her sister. Growing up as teens, Lynnette had watched in fear, shock, and hurt when Reese would literally collapse under the force of the pain in her head. She’d spent nights with her when out of the blue, Reese would toss and turn, scream unintelligible sounds and practically leap from the bed, eyes wide and unseeing in a cold sweat. Yet she could remember nothing of the dreams.

      Lynnette fastened her seatbelt and leaned back. It had been three years since the nightmares had stopped completely. The headaches were manageable. Lynnette closed her eyes. Why now? she wondered.

      Chapter 8

      Reese finally managed to get out of bed and make it to the bathroom. With great effort, she peeled her damp gown from her weary body.

      Reaching for the faucets, she turned on the water full blast and stepped into the pounding shower.

      Twenty minutes later she emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a thick terry-cloth robe. She checked the clock on the nightstand. 10:30. She should have… “Oh, my God…the car…”

      Walking as quickly as her wobbly legs would allow, she sat on the bed and dialed the front desk.

      “Yes, Ms. Delaware. A driver was here for you this morning. We rang your room, but received no answer. When you didn’t come down by eight-fifteen he left.”

      “I see. Thank you.” Reese squeezed her eyes shut in frustration. “Now what am I going to do? Knowing Max he’ll probably assume I’m having a tantrum about last night,” she grumbled aloud. “Arrogant bastard.”

      She got up from the bed and began to pace, energy slowly winding its way through her body. “He had a helluva nerve kissing me like that and then acting as if nothing happened. He must take me for…”

      The doorbell rang interrupting her diatribe. She stomped across the room fueled by her outrage and flung open the door.

      “I got worried when the driver arrived without you.”

      Reese’s stomach did a quick somersault while her brain scrambled for organization. “M-ax-well.” At that precise moment, with him standing in front of her, looking for all the world as if he’d just stepped off the cover of Ebony Man Magazine, she had a difficult time trying to remember why she’d been so pissed-off only minutes ago.

      “How’s the headache?”

      Briefly she frowned in confusion. “How did you…?”

      “I could see the beginnings last night.” He paused. “I should have stayed to make sure you were alright. I’m sorry.”

      His apology tugged on her heart. “There’s no need to apologize. I didn’t realize it was that obvious,” she said softly.

      He slipped his hands in the pockets of his cream-colored linen slacks in an effort to keep from reaching out and touching her. His dreams had been filled with her; in front of him, at his side, beneath him. When he finally tore himself away from his erotic dreams, he knew he had to see her.

      Maxwell angled his chin in the direction of the interior of the suite. “May I come in?” His dark eyes swept over her and his voice reached down to the bottom of her soul. “I’ll only stay as long as you want me to. I promise.”

      A surge of heat engulfed her, while her heart roared so loudly she swore it would burst. “Sure.” She stepped aside and tugged on the belt of her robe. “Come on in.”

      Maxwell followed her into the suite, the scent of her freshly bathed body leaving a sensual trail for him to follow.

      “Make yourself comfortable,” she suggested, stopping in front of the couch. “I’ll just be a few minutes.” Quickly she disappeared into the bedroom.

      “What in the devil am I going to put on?” she mumbled, frantically tearing through her wardrobe. Finally she decided on a lemon-yellow tank top and lime green cotton slacks, with a pair of espadrilles that matched her top. She slipped a slinky gold belt through the loops of her slacks and pushed tiny gold studs through her ears.

      A look in the mirror caused her to gasp in horror. Her hair was a wreck, hanging limply around her shoulders from the steam of the shower. She pulled a stiff brush through her hair and quickly twisted it into a neat French roll.

      “Not bad,” she nodded to her reflection. Then across her lips she added the barest hint of cinnamon lip gloss, and stroked her lashes with jet black mascara.

      “You go, girl,” she said, smiling. Taking a fortifying breath, she reentered the living area.

      Maxwell stood up the moment she entered and his heart seemed to shift in his chest. She was so lovely.

      “Hope I didn’t take too long.” She made her way across the room, but stopped several feet away from him.

      Maxwell crossed the remaining space that separated them. He gave her one long heated look that set her body aglow, and without further waiting swiftly took her into his arms, crushing her against his pulsing body.

      His mouth, hungry for the taste of her again, took her lips, briefly savoring their sweetness before dipping into the hot core of her mouth.

      Reese wrapped her arms around his hard, lean body, eager to feel the strength of him as he surged against her. She suckled his tongue, committing its texture to memory, allowing it to awaken every nerve ending in her body.

      An unstoppable need to know her filled him with the force of a monsoon, building in ferocity. His hands began a slow dance along her back, compelling her to arch closer—tighter. Downward his hands trailed, stroking her round hips, pulling the heart of her desire against the heat of his.

      He moaned her name as he pulled away from her lips, only to run his tongue along the tender СКАЧАТЬ