former fiancée who’d returned his ring with a bonded courier and a terse note saying she couldn’t handle his situation. And although he’d undergone months of physical rehabilitation and countless sessions with a psychiatrist he still had trust issues when it came to women.
It’d taken a while before he’d taken the psychiatrist’s advice to begin dating again. In a six-month period he saw three women, but he refused to sleep with any of them. Two of the three wanted a commitment, and he was honest when he told them they’d chosen the wrong man. And never had he misled or deluded any of them into thinking there would be more than friendship.
Nicholas’s hands came up and as he cradled Peyton’s face, the moon, hidden behind a cloud, cast an eerie shadow over her features. It was said the moon affects people differently and in that instant he felt caught up in a spell from which there was no escape. The haunted look in her eyes was something he would remember for a long time. The confidence he’d always seen in Peyton had been replaced by a look of fear and vulnerability that caused him to wonder who’d hurt her in the past, and/or maybe continued to hurt her.
I have to try and figure myself out before I can even consider having a child. What, he thought, was there for Peyton to figure out? Unlike her he’d figured himself out, because he’d been taught to always have a Plan B, and even go so far as to have a Plan C. If one thing didn’t work, then try again, and if necessary another.
He held her jaw firmly when she tried pulling away, lowered his head and brushed his mouth over hers in a slow, gentle caress. The more she struggled the more Nicholas deepened the kiss until she stopped, her lips parting under his. He emitted a groan of triumph when she anchored her arms under his shoulders. His hands moved from her face to her waist, effortlessly picking her up as if she were a small child.
Peyton felt as if someone was holding her underwater where she couldn’t breathe or scream. Everything about Nicholas—the unleashed strength in his arms, the strong beating of his heart against her breasts, the taste and feel of his mouth on hers had pulled her into an endless abyss of craving where she’d become the slave of a controlled substance. She’d tried to fight the vaguely sensuous pull every time they’d shared the same space, knowing nothing would ever come of it. Wherein she’d found Nicholas so disturbing he’d regarded her with so much disinterest that it challenged her confidence as a woman. She’d never been self-absorbed or narcissistic, but she also knew she would never be relegated to wallflower status.
Her arms curved around his neck in an attempt to keep her balance. Peyton couldn’t stop shaking despite the warmth of the summer night, her nerve endings screaming from the pulsing sensations between her thighs. A delicious shudder of wanting heated her blood until she was on fire. A prickle of awareness shook her from the sensual reverie, and she went still at the same time Nicholas did.
Her heart pounded an erratic rhythm. “Nicholas?” she whispered against his mouth.
Lowering her until her bare feet touched the grass, Nicholas smoothed back her hair. “I know, baby. I heard it, too. Someone just fired a gun.” A slight frown appeared between his eyes. “Who would be shooting out here? And for what?” There was another shot, this one closer than the first one.
“There’s been a coyote sighting—”
“Let’s go.” Bending, Nicholas picked up her shoes and forcibly pulled her across the meadow.
Peyton pulled back. “You’re going to dislocate my arm!” Without missing a step, Nicholas threw her over his shoulder. The ribbon that kept her hair together slipped to the grass; her hair hung in front of her face, not permitting her to see. She pounded his broad back. The blood was quickly rushing to her head. “Put me down!”
When they were within fifty feet of one of the
It’d taken a while before he’d taken the psychiatrist’s advice to begin dating again. In a six-month period he saw three women, but he refused to sleep with any of them. Two of the three wanted a commitment, and he was honest when he told them they’d chosen the wrong man. And never had he misled or deluded any of them into thinking there would be more than friendship.
Nicholas’s hands came up and as he cradled Peyton’s face, the moon, hidden behind a cloud, cast an eerie shadow over her features. It was said the moon affects people differently and in that instant he felt caught up in a spell from which there was no escape. The haunted look in her eyes was something he would remember for a long time. The confidence he’d always seen in Peyton had been replaced by a look of fear and vulnerability that caused him to wonder who’d hurt her in the past, and/or maybe continued to hurt her.
I have to try and figure myself out before I can even consider having a child. What, he thought, was there for Peyton to figure out? Unlike her he’d figured himself out, because he’d been taught to always have a Plan B, and even go so far as to have a Plan C. If one thing didn’t work, then try again, and if necessary another.
He held her jaw firmly when she tried pulling away, lowered his head and brushed his mouth over hers in a slow, gentle caress. The more she struggled the more Nicholas deepened the kiss until she stopped, her lips parting under his. He emitted a groan of triumph when she anchored her arms under his shoulders. His hands moved from her face to her waist, effortlessly picking her up as if she were a small child.
Peyton felt as if someone was holding her underwater where she couldn’t breathe or scream. Everything about Nicholas—the unleashed strength in his arms, the strong beating of his heart against her breasts, the taste and feel of his mouth on hers had pulled her into an endless abyss of craving where she’d become the slave of a controlled substance. She’d tried to fight the vaguely sensuous pull every time they’d shared the same space, knowing nothing would ever come of it. Wherein she’d found Nicholas so disturbing he’d regarded her with so much disinterest that it challenged her confidence as a woman. She’d never been self-absorbed or narcissistic, but she also knew she would never be relegated to wallflower status.
Her arms curved around his neck in an attempt to keep her balance. Peyton couldn’t stop shaking despite the warmth of the summer night, her nerve endings screaming from the pulsing sensations between her thighs. A delicious shudder of wanting heated her blood until she was on fire. A prickle of awareness shook her from the sensual reverie, and she went still at the same time Nicholas did.
Her heart pounded an erratic rhythm. “Nicholas?” she whispered against his mouth.
Lowering her until her bare feet touched the grass, Nicholas smoothed back her hair. “I know, baby. I heard it, too. Someone just fired a gun.” A slight frown appeared between his eyes. “Who would be shooting out here? And for what?” There was another shot, this one closer than the first one.
“There’s been a coyote sighting—”
“Let’s go.” Bending, Nicholas picked up her shoes and forcibly pulled her across the meadow.
Peyton pulled back. “You’re going to dislocate my arm!” Without missing a step, Nicholas threw her over his shoulder. The ribbon that kept her hair together slipped to the grass; her hair hung in front of her face, not permitting her to see. She pounded his broad back. The blood was quickly rushing to her head. “Put me down!”
When they were within fifty feet of one of the
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