muttered, as if slipping into sleep. “Whatever it takes, you’re going to be mine now.”
For moments she lay still. The pain had ebbed but she still hurt. And she had to get away. At first she thought she would slide free without him noticing, but he reached for her face. “Rest,” he said.
Within moments, his arms relaxed. Annie rolled away, grabbed her clothes and made a dash for her bedroom. She passed straight through to the bathroom and locked herself inside. The fan hummed to life, then the shower water beat down. A woman could take a shower when she felt like one, couldn’t she? It didn’t have to mean anything. And while she was under the water, she wouldn’t hear Max if he came after her.
He turned on his back and put an arm under his head. He couldn’t take in what had just happened, or how. The Annie he knew wasn’t the Annie who had goaded him, tried to subjugate him. He smiled at the thought. She didn’t seem to realize that she only did what he allowed her to do. Every move, every unbelievable word, inflamed him beyond reason. He breathed slowly in through his nose. What he’d said to her, he meant. Now they’d been together, like wild things, he wouldn’t rest until he had her again and again. He smiled faintly. Or she had him.
Why she’d rushed away, he didn’t know unless she’d managed to shock herself. He didn’t believe he’d just seen Annie as she’d ever been before. And now she hid to pull herself together.
The shower water was loud even from here. Max retrieved his jeans and walked into the kitchen. He turned on a light and found a glass for water. His dry mouth needed immediate attention.
He raised the full glass and drank it empty.
Tossing his jeans on the counter, he started putting on his shorts.
“For…Dammit all!” A small streak of blood smeared his penis and spotted the waistband of his shorts where it touched his groin.
CHAPTER 11
“I see you sneaking around out there, Madge Pollard,” Father Cyrus Payne said.
The door to his office was partly open and he saw his assistant moving about in the hall.
“Just takin’ Millie out,” Madge responded. “Won’t be a moment.”
“Wait, I’m comin’.” Cyrus moved rapidly from behind his desk and opened his door all the way. “I told you this isn’t the time to be alone out there.” He avoided looking at Madge’s black and white puppy. “A woman’s missing in this town. Give me that hound. I’ll take her out.”
“She’s not a hound,” Madge said and eased the front door open. Attached to a very long lead, the dog took off around the corner and Madge followed. “Have you finished your homily?” Her voice floated back.
Cyrus wandered after her. Her legs flashed pale beneath the swishing hem of a dark blue dress. “You don’t get enough fresh air,” he said.
“What?” The dog had wiggled under an azalea and Madge assumed a relaxed, waiting attitude. “Fresh air?”
“You’re pale. I know I don’t always take as much notice as I should but you’re looking pasty. Get out in the sun—with a hat on—for an hour a day. You need the vitamins.”
Madge didn’t say a word but he could feel her big, dark eyes on him and if he looked closer, she’d be grinning. “Someone has to look out for you,” he said. “You surely don’t take care of yourself. Ask anyone and they’ll tell you the same, and say you don’t get enough sleep because you work such long hours, too. You forget you have to add on the time it takes you to get back home to Rosebank in the evenin’. What’s that hound doin’?”
“Millie’s a papillon—butterfly dog to you—and a member of the spaniel family. I’ve told you the same thing several times. Why don’t you like her?”
He did, but he wasn’t planning to tell Madge. “If she was a real dog, I might like her. Under five pounds of nothing doesn’t count. Next time you take a good look at her, see if I’m not right. Maybe when she grows to full
For moments she lay still. The pain had ebbed but she still hurt. And she had to get away. At first she thought she would slide free without him noticing, but he reached for her face. “Rest,” he said.
Within moments, his arms relaxed. Annie rolled away, grabbed her clothes and made a dash for her bedroom. She passed straight through to the bathroom and locked herself inside. The fan hummed to life, then the shower water beat down. A woman could take a shower when she felt like one, couldn’t she? It didn’t have to mean anything. And while she was under the water, she wouldn’t hear Max if he came after her.
He turned on his back and put an arm under his head. He couldn’t take in what had just happened, or how. The Annie he knew wasn’t the Annie who had goaded him, tried to subjugate him. He smiled at the thought. She didn’t seem to realize that she only did what he allowed her to do. Every move, every unbelievable word, inflamed him beyond reason. He breathed slowly in through his nose. What he’d said to her, he meant. Now they’d been together, like wild things, he wouldn’t rest until he had her again and again. He smiled faintly. Or she had him.
Why she’d rushed away, he didn’t know unless she’d managed to shock herself. He didn’t believe he’d just seen Annie as she’d ever been before. And now she hid to pull herself together.
The shower water was loud even from here. Max retrieved his jeans and walked into the kitchen. He turned on a light and found a glass for water. His dry mouth needed immediate attention.
He raised the full glass and drank it empty.
Tossing his jeans on the counter, he started putting on his shorts.
“For…Dammit all!” A small streak of blood smeared his penis and spotted the waistband of his shorts where it touched his groin.
CHAPTER 11
“I see you sneaking around out there, Madge Pollard,” Father Cyrus Payne said.
The door to his office was partly open and he saw his assistant moving about in the hall.
“Just takin’ Millie out,” Madge responded. “Won’t be a moment.”
“Wait, I’m comin’.” Cyrus moved rapidly from behind his desk and opened his door all the way. “I told you this isn’t the time to be alone out there.” He avoided looking at Madge’s black and white puppy. “A woman’s missing in this town. Give me that hound. I’ll take her out.”
“She’s not a hound,” Madge said and eased the front door open. Attached to a very long lead, the dog took off around the corner and Madge followed. “Have you finished your homily?” Her voice floated back.
Cyrus wandered after her. Her legs flashed pale beneath the swishing hem of a dark blue dress. “You don’t get enough fresh air,” he said.
“What?” The dog had wiggled under an azalea and Madge assumed a relaxed, waiting attitude. “Fresh air?”
“You’re pale. I know I don’t always take as much notice as I should but you’re looking pasty. Get out in the sun—with a hat on—for an hour a day. You need the vitamins.”
Madge didn’t say a word but he could feel her big, dark eyes on him and if he looked closer, she’d be grinning. “Someone has to look out for you,” he said. “You surely don’t take care of yourself. Ask anyone and they’ll tell you the same, and say you don’t get enough sleep because you work such long hours, too. You forget you have to add on the time it takes you to get back home to Rosebank in the evenin’. What’s that hound doin’?”
“Millie’s a papillon—butterfly dog to you—and a member of the spaniel family. I’ve told you the same thing several times. Why don’t you like her?”
He did, but he wasn’t planning to tell Madge. “If she was a real dog, I might like her. Under five pounds of nothing doesn’t count. Next time you take a good look at her, see if I’m not right. Maybe when she grows to full
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