Rescuing Rayne by Susan Stoker Page A

smooth and unblemished. Her tits big enough to hold, but not so big they overwhelmed her frame. She had a small belly, and thighs he could grab hold of and not be afraid he’d hurt her. There were so many ways he wanted to make love to her, to get to know her…but with each tick of the clock, Ghost knew his time with her was quickly running out.
    Even knowing he was pushing his luck, he didn’t leave her bed until an hour after he’d planned. After dressing, Ghost leaned over Rayne, who was now sleeping on her stomach clutching a pillow to her chest, and kissed her temple.
    “Soar high, Princess,” he whispered softly into her ear before standing up.
    Ghost turned and walked to the door and stopped with one hand on the knob. Taking a resigned breath, he walked back over to the amazing woman in the bed and slowly tugged the sheet down, revealing the curve of her spine…and the tattoo that had made him lose his mind. He stared down at it, arguing with himself. It really was uncanny how she’d been able to capture the essence of who he was without even knowing him. Ghost knew he was being maudlin, but couldn’t help it.
    The side that wanted a memory of this night forever won, and Ghost quickly took out his cell phone and snapped a picture of the unique tattoo, being careful not to capture anything indecent in his photo. Her beautiful backside was for his eyes only.
    He pulled the sheet back up carefully and leaned down one more time. He inhaled her scent, which by now was really a mixture of sex and whatever perfume she’d put on hours earlier, kissed his fingers and gently laid them on her lips, then turned abruptly and stalked to the door once more. He slipped out without a sound and disappeared into the large metropolis as if he didn’t exist.

Chapter Eleven
    A shrill ringing woke Rayne from a deep sleep. She leaned over and answered the phone with a groggy, “Hello?” She heard the standard hotel recording for the wake-up call, hung up the phone, and sat up slowly. She looked next to her and saw she was alone in the bed.
    “Ghost?”
    Her voice echoed back through the empty room. Knowing in her heart she wasn’t going to find him, Rayne twisted and put her feet on the floor anyway. She padded around the corner and looked in the bathroom. Empty.
    She grabbed the tank top and pants she’d been wearing last night and pulled them on, then walked over to the window and peered out. The London Eye Ferris wheel was still and silent, waiting for another group of tourists, and Big Ben and Westminster Abbey looked as stately and majestic as they had the day before. In fact, everything looked the same, including the cloudy weather…but Rayne didn’t feel the same.
    Ghost had been upfront and honest with her from the beginning. He’d told her he was a one-night kind of guy, and that he didn’t do relationships. She’d told him she was fine with that, and she was. But as he’d held her, and made her orgasm time and time again, her walls had crumbled. She’d begun to fantasize that they’d wake up in the morning and he’d tell her he couldn’t live without her. They’d fly back to the States and date for a while before he’d finally propose to her.
    It was ridiculous and she was too old to be living in a fantasy world.
    Suddenly cold, Rayne went back to the bed and got under the covers. She pulled the sheet up to her chin and curled into a ball on her side. She turned her head and inhaled. God. The pillow smelled like Ghost.
    Ghost. It was an appropriate name for the man. She knew next to nothing about him, except he made her feel safe. And wanted. And desirable. He had a tattoo and…what else? His name was John Benbrook and he lived in Fort Worth. She perked up a bit at that. She could look him up when she got home and then…
    No. He left. They had one night together, that’s all it was. He didn’t want anything more to do with her. If he’d wanted more, he would’ve told her. Rayne knew it in her gut.