she loathed the sensation more.
As she walked swiftly to the car, she stared blindly in front of her and refused to let her gaze wander to Sin. She was inside the car before she realized she had climbed in on the passenger side. Rather than admit she had been too shaken by his embrace and its aftermath to know what she was doing, she stayed where she was.
When she reached out to pull the passenger door shut, Sin's hand was there to temporarily halt hers. "Aren't you driving?" His voice was too bland for the words to be an inquiry. It was much too knowing.
Mara wouldn't look at him. "You drive." A tug of the door pulled it out of his yielding grasp.
Her hands were clenched tightly in her lap, betraying the strain she was under, as Sin walked around the car to the driver's side. After starting the motor, he paused to look at her.
"You'll have to give me directions to the cemetery. I don't know how to get there from here," he said.
Mara still wouldn't meet his gaze as she stiffly faced the front of the car. "We aren't going to the cemetery, The tour is over, so you can drive me home."
She half expected an argument or at the very least some taunting comment, but there was none forthcoming. Sin shifted the car out of parking gear and turned it onto the road. As they drove away, Mara turned her head to look out the side window at the field of Pickett's charge paralleling their route. She knew what it was like to believe yourself invincible, only to be defeated by a superior force.
The drive back seemed extraordinarily long. With each passing mile the silence grew more oppressive and the atmosphere more charged. The air seemed to crackle with the volatile undercurrents. Sin Buchanan was the epitome of everything Mara detested in the male gender, and the intensity of her dislike increased with each minute she was forced to endure his presence.
The wooded landscape became more familiar as they approached the red brick farmhouse. When it came into sight, Mara's nerves seemed to scream with relief. But Sin didn't slow the car at the driveway. Instead he continued along the graveled road.
"You've missed the driveway." Mara turned in her seat to look back at it. "Where are you going?" Her tone hovered between an accusation and a demand, desperation gnawing at her stomach.
His gaze left the road long enough to slide over her face in quick assessment. "You seem shaken by our…tour." Deliberately he hesitated over the cause and chose the wrong reason to prove he knew the true one. "I thought we'd have some coffee at the cottage so you could have time to recover."
Mara was fully aware of what would happen at the cottage. His seduction of her would continue, this time in total privacy and before she had a chance to recover her equilibrium. Conscious as she was of the crazy upheaval the prospect was igniting within her, there was no way she was going to accompany him to the cottage.
"I thought I'd made it clear before, Mr. Buchanan, that I don't want…coffee with you. Turn the car around and take me home," she ordered in a frigid voice, iced by an admitted fear of what might happen.
"Mr. Buchanan?" He arched an amused eyebrow in her direction. "I much prefer it when you call me Sin. You had no difficulty with the name earlier."
Had she called him Sin? With hot awareness Mara realized she had, and his arrogant reminder of the fact increased her anger.
"Turn the car around, Mr. Buchanan." She stiffly reminded him that he hadn't complied with her order and addressed him formally to affirm her previous usage.
With an expressive shrug of his shoulder, Sin used the lane to the cottage to turn into and reverse the car. His manner suggested he felt there would be future opportunities to pursue his objective, namely her.
"If you want to have coffee at the house, that's all right with me," he said, slowing the car this time to turn into the driveway. "I only thought you wouldn't want Adam to see you in your present state."
"Adam
As she walked swiftly to the car, she stared blindly in front of her and refused to let her gaze wander to Sin. She was inside the car before she realized she had climbed in on the passenger side. Rather than admit she had been too shaken by his embrace and its aftermath to know what she was doing, she stayed where she was.
When she reached out to pull the passenger door shut, Sin's hand was there to temporarily halt hers. "Aren't you driving?" His voice was too bland for the words to be an inquiry. It was much too knowing.
Mara wouldn't look at him. "You drive." A tug of the door pulled it out of his yielding grasp.
Her hands were clenched tightly in her lap, betraying the strain she was under, as Sin walked around the car to the driver's side. After starting the motor, he paused to look at her.
"You'll have to give me directions to the cemetery. I don't know how to get there from here," he said.
Mara still wouldn't meet his gaze as she stiffly faced the front of the car. "We aren't going to the cemetery, The tour is over, so you can drive me home."
She half expected an argument or at the very least some taunting comment, but there was none forthcoming. Sin shifted the car out of parking gear and turned it onto the road. As they drove away, Mara turned her head to look out the side window at the field of Pickett's charge paralleling their route. She knew what it was like to believe yourself invincible, only to be defeated by a superior force.
The drive back seemed extraordinarily long. With each passing mile the silence grew more oppressive and the atmosphere more charged. The air seemed to crackle with the volatile undercurrents. Sin Buchanan was the epitome of everything Mara detested in the male gender, and the intensity of her dislike increased with each minute she was forced to endure his presence.
The wooded landscape became more familiar as they approached the red brick farmhouse. When it came into sight, Mara's nerves seemed to scream with relief. But Sin didn't slow the car at the driveway. Instead he continued along the graveled road.
"You've missed the driveway." Mara turned in her seat to look back at it. "Where are you going?" Her tone hovered between an accusation and a demand, desperation gnawing at her stomach.
His gaze left the road long enough to slide over her face in quick assessment. "You seem shaken by our…tour." Deliberately he hesitated over the cause and chose the wrong reason to prove he knew the true one. "I thought we'd have some coffee at the cottage so you could have time to recover."
Mara was fully aware of what would happen at the cottage. His seduction of her would continue, this time in total privacy and before she had a chance to recover her equilibrium. Conscious as she was of the crazy upheaval the prospect was igniting within her, there was no way she was going to accompany him to the cottage.
"I thought I'd made it clear before, Mr. Buchanan, that I don't want…coffee with you. Turn the car around and take me home," she ordered in a frigid voice, iced by an admitted fear of what might happen.
"Mr. Buchanan?" He arched an amused eyebrow in her direction. "I much prefer it when you call me Sin. You had no difficulty with the name earlier."
Had she called him Sin? With hot awareness Mara realized she had, and his arrogant reminder of the fact increased her anger.
"Turn the car around, Mr. Buchanan." She stiffly reminded him that he hadn't complied with her order and addressed him formally to affirm her previous usage.
With an expressive shrug of his shoulder, Sin used the lane to the cottage to turn into and reverse the car. His manner suggested he felt there would be future opportunities to pursue his objective, namely her.
"If you want to have coffee at the house, that's all right with me," he said, slowing the car this time to turn into the driveway. "I only thought you wouldn't want Adam to see you in your present state."
"Adam
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