In Love by Design (The Adventures of Anabel Axelrod) by Tracy Ellen Page B
Authors: Tracy Ellen
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window to be let in. On a rush of cold air, my boyfriend filled the truck cab with his large body and powerful presence. Over the unpleasant odors radiating from me and my clothes, I breathed in the clean masculine scent that was unique to Luke. It never failed to send my senses reeling. I floated off again on a puffy pheromone cloud into la-la land, happy to be alive.
He clicked on a soft light and adjusted his seat back. I didn’t move, but my eyes lazily traveled over my Hero from top to bottom. He didn’t look any the worse for wear, not even a short black hair was out of place.
Propping his knee over the consol e and turning his body my way, Luke slowly pulled off his black leather gloves while taking me in lying stretched out on the passenger seat. From the seductive smile curving his mouth and the teasing expression in his eyes, Luke now appeared quite chipper when compared to his coldness in the kitchen fifteen minutes ago. Beating up the kidnapper seems to have accomplished what kissing his girlfriend couldn’t—it restored Torquemada’s good mood.
My boyfriend, who hasn’t contacted me in two weeks, reached over and tugged playfully on a long, blonde curl hanging down the front of my blazer. “Princess, I can see you’re suffering from post-traumatic stress. I think what you need right now is your first fuck in a Ford-150.”
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” I replied, and gave an elaborate yawn.
Luke raised a brow. “Is it working?”
I screwed up my face and then shook my head. “It’s too romantic for my taste. I prefer a blunter approach.”
Luke laughed and sat back. He reached in side his leather jacket and took out a very small gift bag. It was stop sign red.
Smiling, he held it out to me and moved his head in that arrogant motion. “Then I owe you another apology because you are going to hate this.”
I stared longingly at the little bag. Small gift bags rate high on my scale of good presents, very high. Small could potentially mean jewelry or perhaps even a key to a hideaway cabin where a man with amazing arm muscles and a super dong could sexually torment me for days.
I tore my eyes away from the little red matador cape being waved under my nose and met Luke’s green gaze. I saw a guarded look beneath the confidence. Something was wrong here. There was still a sense of remoteness in Luke below the surface of his teasing that I don’t understand. It’s beyond the anger I’ve felt brimming since Luke appeared in the kitchen doorway. I’d attributed that to wanting to protect me, but maybe I was mistaken. I quickly scan my memory to be certain, but I can’t think of any reason he would have to be unhappy with me since we last kissed goodbye at Thanksgiving.
“Another apology?” I felt a little hitch in my heartbeat. “What was the first?”
He shrugged a wide shoulder. “You’re probably upset I haven’t called you in the last couple of weeks, so I brought you this gift, as my way of groveling.”
“Is there a reason you didn’t call?” I asked , my voice lilting hopefully, “Was something wrong?”
I couldn’t help but notice he wasn’t wearing hand casts and still had his tongue.
Luke adjusted the heat vent. When he met my eyes again, his were cool and he repeated that one shoulder arrogant shrug thing again.
H e motioned in my direction with the gift bag and said, “Nothing was wrong. I was busy with a training class I had to take over because the scheduled instructor had a family emergency.”
Pushing up to a sitting position, I kept my weight on my left thigh and hip. “I see.”
Actually, I don’t know why I said that. I don’t see anything at all. Men make time for what interests them the most. Sometimes they are genuinely super busy, but even that rarely stops a man from contacting a woman he has the hots for. If a man tells you they were too busy to call or see you, it’s generally because their desire to do so was less than
He clicked on a soft light and adjusted his seat back. I didn’t move, but my eyes lazily traveled over my Hero from top to bottom. He didn’t look any the worse for wear, not even a short black hair was out of place.
Propping his knee over the consol e and turning his body my way, Luke slowly pulled off his black leather gloves while taking me in lying stretched out on the passenger seat. From the seductive smile curving his mouth and the teasing expression in his eyes, Luke now appeared quite chipper when compared to his coldness in the kitchen fifteen minutes ago. Beating up the kidnapper seems to have accomplished what kissing his girlfriend couldn’t—it restored Torquemada’s good mood.
My boyfriend, who hasn’t contacted me in two weeks, reached over and tugged playfully on a long, blonde curl hanging down the front of my blazer. “Princess, I can see you’re suffering from post-traumatic stress. I think what you need right now is your first fuck in a Ford-150.”
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” I replied, and gave an elaborate yawn.
Luke raised a brow. “Is it working?”
I screwed up my face and then shook my head. “It’s too romantic for my taste. I prefer a blunter approach.”
Luke laughed and sat back. He reached in side his leather jacket and took out a very small gift bag. It was stop sign red.
Smiling, he held it out to me and moved his head in that arrogant motion. “Then I owe you another apology because you are going to hate this.”
I stared longingly at the little bag. Small gift bags rate high on my scale of good presents, very high. Small could potentially mean jewelry or perhaps even a key to a hideaway cabin where a man with amazing arm muscles and a super dong could sexually torment me for days.
I tore my eyes away from the little red matador cape being waved under my nose and met Luke’s green gaze. I saw a guarded look beneath the confidence. Something was wrong here. There was still a sense of remoteness in Luke below the surface of his teasing that I don’t understand. It’s beyond the anger I’ve felt brimming since Luke appeared in the kitchen doorway. I’d attributed that to wanting to protect me, but maybe I was mistaken. I quickly scan my memory to be certain, but I can’t think of any reason he would have to be unhappy with me since we last kissed goodbye at Thanksgiving.
“Another apology?” I felt a little hitch in my heartbeat. “What was the first?”
He shrugged a wide shoulder. “You’re probably upset I haven’t called you in the last couple of weeks, so I brought you this gift, as my way of groveling.”
“Is there a reason you didn’t call?” I asked , my voice lilting hopefully, “Was something wrong?”
I couldn’t help but notice he wasn’t wearing hand casts and still had his tongue.
Luke adjusted the heat vent. When he met my eyes again, his were cool and he repeated that one shoulder arrogant shrug thing again.
H e motioned in my direction with the gift bag and said, “Nothing was wrong. I was busy with a training class I had to take over because the scheduled instructor had a family emergency.”
Pushing up to a sitting position, I kept my weight on my left thigh and hip. “I see.”
Actually, I don’t know why I said that. I don’t see anything at all. Men make time for what interests them the most. Sometimes they are genuinely super busy, but even that rarely stops a man from contacting a woman he has the hots for. If a man tells you they were too busy to call or see you, it’s generally because their desire to do so was less than
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