Читать книгу A Child Of Her Own - BEVERLY BARTON, Beverly Barton - Страница 9

One

Carrying a steel gray toolbox, Rick Warrick entered the Dixie Twirlers studio and immediately realized half a dozen women were sizing him up. Not that he wasn’t used to the fairer sex paying attention to him, but these weren’t good-time girls at a local bar. These were wives and mothers, some of them the cream of local society. Glancing around the huge open room, he noticed that the decor was definitely feminine, everything done in various shades of pink and lavender, with gold and silver accents. Surveying the bevy of ladies seated together in a lounge section at the back of the room, he didn’t see the studio’s owner, Ms. Lori Lee Guy, who had called for a repairman.

His partner, Bobo Lewis, had brought him up-to-date on Lori Lee’s life. She was a hometown girl who’d gone to the University of Alabama as a majorette, become homecoming queen and snagged herself a star quarterback. Although he had feigned indifference to Bobo’s gossip, Rick had been interested. It wasn’t that he’d been carrying a torch for Lori Lee all these years—he hadn’t—but he still considered her “the perfect female.” He had come to that conclusion when he’d been eighteen and fantasized about scoring with Deshler High School’s head majorette. Having seen her recently in passing on the street hadn’t changed his opinion.

A hot, jazzy tune drifted down from upstairs, mingling with the sound of dozens of feet tapping and interspersed with childish giggles.

“I’m looking for Ms. Guy,” Rick said, not localizing his stare, but taking in all six of the women. “She called about the heat.”

A plump redhead dressed in a multicolored sweat suit stood and, swaying her hips provocatively, sauntered over to Rick. “You’re Rick Warrick, aren’t you? I heard you were back in town and working for Bobo Lewis.”

“I’m Bobo’s partner,” Rick corrected her. He wished it wasn’t so important to him for people to know he was more than a hired hand. But dammit, it was important. Because that’s all he’d ever been until he’d come home to Tuscumbia and bought half-ownership in Bobo’s heating and air-conditioning business. “I’m sorry, ma’am, do we know each other?”

She smiled, deep dimples scoring her round cheeks. “You probably don’t remember me from high school. We didn’t run in the same circle, but all of us good girls had crushes on you.” She held out her pudgy hand. Expensive rings adorned several fingers and a diamond tennis bracelet circled her wrist. “I’m Deanie Webber. I used to be Deanie Smith.”

Rick couldn’t recall the woman, but he admired her honesty and liked her genuinely friendly manner. “It’s nice to see you again, Deanie. You must have a kid who takes baton lessons here.”

“Yes. She’s one of the little darlings upstairs freezing to death,” Deanie said. “Twinkle Toes are rehearsing right now. They’re the talented six-to-nine-year-olds. All of us have daughters in the group.”

“I suppose Ms. Guy is up there.” Rick nodded toward the staircase.

“Yes, go on up. I don’t think they’re doing much practicing. It’s too cold.” Deanie crossed her arms across her ample bosom and patted herself on her arms. “Lori Lee will be glad to see you. Do you think you can get the heat working soon?”

“I’ll give it my best shot once I find the trouble.” Rick glanced over Deanie’s shoulder at the five other women who were boldly staring at him.

He bounded up the stairs, wanting to escape the ladies’ inspection. He heard a buzzing of female voices, the words bad boy, heartbreaker and always in trouble following his ascent to the second floor.

The second story was a large, open space with a row of windows across the front of the building and well-worn hardwood flooring. Music blared from a jam-box sitting on the wooden floor. Six little girls of various sizes circled their teacher, each child trying to talk at once.

Rick cleared his throat. No one noticed. “Excuse me. I’m A. K. Warrick. I’m here from Lewis Heating and Air.”

Suddenly silence claimed the children as all heads turned in Rick’s direction. Lori Lee Guy, her hand on a child’s shoulder, looked across the room and, for one split second, her heart stopped beating. The black-haired man standing there in his faded jeans, ratty navy sweater and old brown leather jacket took her breath away. Big, tall and badly in need of a shave and a haircut, he dominated the room with his powerful masculine presence.

“Hello,” Lori Lee said, amazed that she could speak with her heart caught in her throat. “The heat’s not working. It was fine yesterday, but when I came over this afternoon to turn up the thermostat, it wouldn’t kick on.”

“If you’ll show me where the unit is, I’ll check it out.” Rick tried not to stare too hard. He didn’t want to be obvious in his survey, but this was the closest he’d been to her in fifteen years, and he was tempted to drink his fill. She was even more beautiful now than she’d been as a teenager. She was still round and curvy in all the right places. Full breasted, wide hipped, long legged. A trim, hourglass figure. But a mature elegance had replaced her fresh, youthful innocence.

The picture of casual loveliness in her pale blue winter tights and her oversize white mid-thigh sweater, Lori Lee glided across the floor, followed by her pint-size entourage. Her shoulder-length blond ponytail bounced up and down on her back.

“The unit’s in the basement, I’m afraid. It’ll be even colder down there. I don’t know why the heat had to go out the first week in January.” Lori Lee paused before she reached Rick’s side, turned abruptly, placed her hands on her hips and faced the children. “Go on downstairs, and as soon as I’ve shown Mr. Warrick to the basement I’ll come up and we’ll discuss the Gadsden competition.”

She shuffled the girls ahead of her, sending them scurrying down to their mothers. Rick stood aside as she walked past him, then followed her down the steps.

“I heard he’s been in the penitentiary,” a female voice said.

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” another woman said. “Remember how he was always in trouble?”

“He still looks dangerous, doesn’t he?” A third voice asked. “And sinfully handsome.”

“Whatever he’s been doing these past fifteen years doesn’t really matter,” Deanie Webber told them. “He’s trying to make something of himself now. Ever since he came back to Tuscumbia last summer, he’s been a model citizen.”

Pausing on the stairway, Lori Lee glanced nervously at the man behind her. Even though he showed no indication, she knew he’d heard what was being said about him. She felt the tension emanating from his big body and saw his warm brown eyes turn hard and cold with pain. Instinctively her hand reached out in a comforting gesture, then her common sense took charge and prevented her from actually touching him.

Rick and Lori Lee exchanged an electrically charged stare, the air around them sizzling explosively. Turning around sharply and taking a deep, calming breath, she walked downstairs and opened the door leading to the basement. She flipped on the light switch, revealing the narrow steps.

“It’s dark and damp down here,” she said. “And a little spooky. There are closed-off tunnels that lead under Main Street.”

As they descended the stairs, musty, dank brick walls surrounded them. A single light bulb hanging from the ceiling illuminated the area. Cobwebs dangled from the rafters and spread across the corners like shimmery lace fans.

“You don’t have to stay down here with me, Ms. Guy.” Rick set his toolbox on top of an old wooden crate. “I’ll check things out and see if I can find your problem.”

“All right. If you don’t need me, I’ll go back up to my class.”

“I don’t need you,” he said.

For some reason Lori Lee felt that his words held a double meaning, as if he was warning her away, cautioning her to keep her distance. Did he realize the effect he had on her? Had her interest really been that obvious?

She went back upstairs, hesitating on the top step. She closed her eyes as memories of a long-ago night surged through her. Rick Warrick, a boy with hooded dark eyes and a hungry expression who watched her from a distance, had shown up at a Friday night Debutante Club party after one of Deshler’s big games. He wasn’t one of their usual crowd and she’d never seen him at one of their parties before, but when she went out on the front porch to look for her boyfriend, Jimmy Davison, she encountered the town bad boy instead. Wearing a brown leather jacket, he leaned against one of the white columns, a beer in his hand and a cigarette in his mouth.

Lori Lee’s instincts told her to run, that everything she’d heard about Rick Warrick was true. But her fascination with him, one she shared with almost every other teenage girl in town, overcame her better judgment and she approached him.

“You can’t smoke or drink at a Debutante party,” Lori Lee told him. “It’s against the rules.”

“Haven’t you heard? I don’t follow rules.” He tossed the cigarette down on the porch and ground it out with his boot heel.

She was drawn to him, like a flowering plant to the nourishing sun. When she moved close enough to touch him, he set his beer can on the banister rail, grinned devilishly and jerked her into his arms. Her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes widened in surprise and arousal, and her whole body tingled with trembling excitement.

“You don’t want to play around with fire, honey. You’re liable to get burned.”

He kissed her then, his lips covering hers, his tongue forcing her mouth open. She clung to his shoulders, her nails biting into the leather of his jacket. His mouth was hot and wet as it devoured hers. He tasted of smoke and alcohol. When she felt his hand on her buttock, she froze, suddenly aware of what a guy like Rick Warrick would expect from a girl. She was no saint, but she was still a virgin, and she planned on staying one while she was in high school.

Releasing her, he gave her a gentle shove. She staggered backward. “Stay away from me, Lori Lee. I’m bad news for a girl like you.”

She’d run from him. Back into the safety of the party. Away from temptation.

Lori Lee opened her eyes, took a deep breath and walked out into the waiting area. Deanie Webber met her before she’d taken ten steps.

“He’s still a hunk, isn’t he? I mean a drop-dead gorgeous hunk!” Deanie squeezed Lori Lee’s arm. “This bunch of biddies in here have been trashing the poor guy, but the truth of the matter is there’s not a one who wouldn’t love to have him eat crackers in her bed, if you know what I mean.”

“Deanie, you’ll never change!” Lori Lee smiled at her best friend. “You’re as shameless as you were when we were kids.”

“He didn’t remember me, but I’ll bet he remembered you,” Deanie said. “I think he always had a thing for you.”

Ignoring Deanie’s last comment, Lori Lee approached her students and their mothers. “It’s too cold in here to get any real practicing done today. I’m afraid we’ll have to make it up Friday afternoon.”

All the children groaned. The mothers grumbled.

“I know it’ll be an inconvenience for all of us, but our next competition is a week from Saturday at Gadsden,” Lori Lee reminded them. “I have Twinkle Toes signed up in three categories. Dance-Twirl, Halftime Show Twirl Team and Halftime Show Dance Line.”

“You have entered Steffie in the solo events we discussed, haven’t you?” Mara Royce turned up her tiny pug nose and beamed her hundred-watt phony smile.

“I’ve entered Steffie in one solo event.” Lori Lee often wished that Mara hadn’t enrolled her only child in the Dixie Twirlers. The little girl was a spoiled brat, and in Steffie’s case, the apple certainly hadn’t fallen far from the tree. Mara Royce was a royal pain in the backside. But the woman possessed an enviable position in town. Her father was president of the largest bank in the county and her husband was a highly respected orthodontist.

“I really think Steffie is ready for—” Mara protested.

“Everything is set for the Gadsden competition,” Lori Lee said. “Mara, we can discuss this again before we go to Clanton in February.”

“We most certainly will discuss it.” Mara tilted her sharp chin and pursed her thin lips into a pout.

“Y’all might as well go on home and practice. Hopefully, we’ll have some heat by tomorrow.” Lori Lee glanced at the partially open door leading to the basement. Once everyone left, she’d be alone in the studio with Rick Warrick. The thought unnerved her and yet excited her.

“Oh, yes,” Lori Lee called out as the mothers and daughters bundled up. “Don’t forget to stop by next door and pick up your costumes. Aunt Birdie said that they arrived this morning and she’s already sorted them and has them ready.”

Deanie Webber escorted her six-year-old to the door. “Katie, you go on over and get your costumes. Visit with Miss Birdie a bit. Ask her to give you a cola while you’re waiting for me. I’m going to stay and talk to Lori Lee for a few minutes.”

Obeying her mother’s instructions, Katie rushed outside behind the other girls. Deanie closed the door, blocking out the cold January wind, then turned quickly and hurried back to Lori Lee’s side.

“Want me to stick around until he comes up from the basement?” Deanie asked, a coy little grin on her broad face.

“I think I’m perfectly safe with Mr. Warrick.” Lori Lee walked over to her desk, opened a bottom drawer and pulled out her beige leather purse.

“I wasn’t concerned about your safety. I was worried about whether or not you’d be able to keep your hands off him.” Deanie giggled, her cheeks flushed.

Lori Lee unzipped her purse, removed her checkbook and laid it on the desk. “Give it a rest, will you, Deanie? You and Aunt Birdie are the only two people on earth who know about that stupid crush I had on Rick when I was a teenager.”

“Do you ever wonder what would have happened if you’d given in to your basic urges and slept with him?” Deanie flopped down on the lounge area sofa.

“For heaven’s sake, I never even had a date with the guy. The only thing that ever happened between us was that one kiss.” Lori Lee sat down in the swivel chair behind her desk.

“Yeah, and you’ve never forgotten that kiss, have you? I’ll bet Tory McBain’s kisses never turned you on that much.”

“I do not want to discuss my ex-husband,” Lori Lee said. “And I certainly have no intention of comparing Tory to Rick.”

Deanie leaned back on the sofa, burrowing into the cushions until she found a comfortable position. “I’ve been keeping tabs on him ever since he moved back to town last July.”

“And what does Phil think about your taking so much interest in another man?”

Deanie laughed, the sound loud and robust. “My Phil knows he’s the only man on earth for me. I’ve been keeping an eye on Rick for you.”

“Well, you’ve wasted your time.” Lori Lee rummaged in her purse, dragging out a pair of beige leather gloves, a pale blue woolen scarf and a gold key chain dripping with an assortment of keys. “When you first told me about Rick being back in town, I made it perfectly clear that I have absolutely no interest in the man.”

“I realize you have more men after you than you can handle, but none of them seem to be getting past first base.” Deanie eyed the coffeemaker in the makeshift minikitchen separated from the rest of the downstairs studio by a pink folding screen. “Fix us some coffee and I’ll tell you everything you’re dying to know about our Mr. Warrick.”

“I do not want to discuss Rick, but I’ll fix some coffee. I could use a caffeine boost about now.” Lori Lee scooted back her chair, stood and went behind the screen. She filled the coffee machine with water and spooned a chocolate raspberry gourmet blend into the paper filter. “For your information, Powell Goodman and I are seeing quite a lot of each other, and I’ve dated Jimmy Davison several times since his divorce.”

“Two upstanding citizens if there ever were any.” Deanie slipped behind the screen, picked up a box of cookies and opened them. “Powell is the biggest stuffed shirt I know, and Jimmy is more in love with himself than he’ll ever be with a woman.”

“And what is Rick Warrick?” Lori Lee asked. “A sullen, brooding bad boy with no education. A blue-collar worker who lives in his sister’s garage apartment.”

“Well, well, well. You know a bit more about Rick than you’ve let on.”

“I overhear gossip from time to time.”

Deanie dug out a couple of Pecan Sandies from the cookie box. “I hate to tell you this, friend of mine, but you sounded a lot like a snob just then. Aunt Birdie would be appalled that you think you’re too good for Rick.”

“I don’t think I’m... It’s just that the last thing I need in my life right now is to get involved with a redneck tough guy. I run a business where I teach young girls. It’s important for me to have a good reputation.”

“From what I’ve heard, Rick is working real hard at overcoming his old reputation.” Deanie munched on the cookie. “Although rumor has it that he’s been seen at the Watering Hole a few times, and he’s never been alone.”

“I’m sure his taste in women hasn’t changed.” Reaching on the lower shelf, Lori Lee lifted the sweetener and creamer and placed them beside the coffee machine. “If I remember correctly, he always liked wild girls. The wilder the better.”

“Yeah.” Deanie sighed. “Wonder what his wife was like? Do you suppose she was a wild woman?”

“I can’t imagine Rick married to anyone. He was always too much of a free spirit.” Lori Lee poured two cups of coffee, adding sweetener and creamer to both, then handed Deanie a mug decorated with a bright, smiling sun.

“Well, you know his sister, Eve, goes to church with us, and she’s been bringing Rick’s little girl to every service with her.” Deanie sipped her coffee. “She’s a gorgeous child. Looks a lot like Rick, except she’s fair where he’s dark. His wife must have been a blue-eyed blonde.”

Rick shoved the basement door wide open. Deanie gasped. Lori Lee’s hands trembled.

“Did you find the problem?” Lori Lee asked. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. He’d removed his coat, leaving his tight navy sweater to accent every hard line in his upper torso. His faded jeans clung to his hips and cupped him snugly. Lori Lee swallowed.

“Yeah, and it’s not good.” Rick placed his toolbox on the floor and dropped his coat on top of it. “I’m afraid your unit is a dinosaur. I could make some repairs to keep it going and charge you four or five hundred bucks, but I couldn’t guarantee it would last a month.”

“I was afraid of that.” Lori Lee grimaced, thinking about telling Aunt Birdie that Rick Warrick would be replacing the old heating and cooling system for the studio. Her aunt owned both the building that housed the Dixie Twirlers and Lori Lee’s Sparkle and Shine costume shop next door. And her aunt was one of the two people who knew she’d once had a major crush on Rick.

“I can work up an estimate tonight and drop it by sometime tomorrow,” Rick said.

“Look, I’ve got to run.” Deanie waved goodbye. “Y’all don’t need me. I’ll call you. later, Lori Lee. Bye now.” Deanie kept waving all the way to the front door, then she giggled like an idiot as she slammed the door shut.

“I wish I could remember her,” Rick said. “She seems real nice. Are you two friends?”

“Best friends since we were kids. I’m her daughter Katie’s godmother.”

“She was your best friend in school? The skinny little giggling redhead who was always with you?”

“Then you do remember her. She keeps an auburn rinse on her hair now and she’s put on a few pounds, but she’s still the same giggling girl. She married Phil Webber. He was senior class president the year I graduated.”

“She told me her daughter is one of your students.” Rick shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “Are you taking any new students right now? I mean, I know it’s in the middle of the year and all.”

“I take new students all the time,” Lori Lee told him. “I have classes for ages three to fourteen, and I give private lessons to older girls and to students who excel, or those who need a little extra help.”

Rick glanced at the hot-pink mug she held in her hand. “Don’t let me keep you from drinking your coffee. It’ll get cold.”

“Oh.” She had forgotten all about the mug until he reminded her. “Would you care for some coffee? I just made a fresh pot.”

“It’d be too much trouble.”

“Don’t be silly. Sit down. I’ll get you some.”

Why had she invited him to stay? Why was she pouring him a cup of coffee? Had she lost her mind? A guy like this wouldn’t need much encouragement before he moved in and took over. She’d had sense enough at seventeen to steer clear of him. Why wasn’t she that smart now?

“How do you take your coffee, Mr. Warrick?”

“Black. And call me Rick.”

She handed him a mug, being careful not to touch him. “Please do sit down.”

When he sat on the sofa, she perched on the edge of the chair across from him. As they sipped their coffee, they stole quick glances at each other.

“How much do you charge for lessons?” he asked.

“I charge by the month. Two classes a week. The basic fee is thirty-five dollars, but that doesn’t include extras like costumes and—”

“I’d like to enroll my daughter.” He took several gulps of the hot black liquid, then placed his mug on the metal-and-glass coffee table in front of him. “She’s six, in the first grade at Southside. I’d like for her to make friends with the kind of little girls I saw here today.”

“Has she ever taken dance or baton lessons before?”

“Nope. But I bought her a baton for Christmas a couple of years ago and she plays with it all the time.”

“She would have to start out in the beginners’ class with our three-to-six-year-olds. When she begins to show progress, I’ll move her up into Twinkle Toes.”

“She’s sort of shy, and I’m afraid she’ll turn out to be a loner like her old man. I don’t want that,” Rick said. “I’d like for her to fit in and be accepted.”

The way I never was. He didn’t say the words, but Lori Lee knew what he meant. She hadn’t known much about Rick, except that he’d been shuffled from one foster home to another, and that his younger sister, Eve, had been adopted by a good family who hadn’t wanted Rick. No one had wanted the hellion he’d been back then.

“What’s your daughter’s name?”

“Darcie.”

“Well, bring Darcie by the studio tomorrow afternoon so she can meet the other girls in the beginners’ class, and we’ll show her what twirling is all about.”

“I don’t know if I can take time off from work tomorrow, but I’ll see what I can manage. If I can’t bring her, I’ll get my sister to.”

“You’re going to drop by with the estimate for the new heat and air system by tomorrow, aren’t you?” Lori Lee asked.

“Yeah.”

“Bring the estimate by at the same time you bring Darcie, that way you won’t be taking time away from your job,” Lori Lee suggested. “Since my Aunt Birdie owns the building, I’ll have her come over and talk to you while I show Darcie around the studio and introduce her to the other girls.”

“Yeah. Sure. Thanks.” Rick stood, walked over and picked up his coat. He slipped into it and lifted his toolbox. “See you tomorrow.”

“Yes, see you tomorrow. You and Darcie.”

She followed him, pausing when he opened the front door and turned to face her. “Look, Lori Lee, I know when I left this town, people were glad to see me go. I’d earned myself a pretty bad reputation.”

“That was a long time ago.” She could smell his sweat, not an offensive odor, just a rough, masculine scent that blended with the clean smell of his clothes and hair.

“I haven’t been a saint these past fifteen years, but I’m doing my best to settle down and provide a home for my daughter.” He stared into Lori Lee’s big blue eyes and felt himself drowning. If he’d known she had moved back to Tuscumbia, would he have come home? “Darcie is my main concern. Everything I do, I do for her.”

“I understand,” Lori Lee said.

He nodded, then turned and walked out the door and down the sidewalk to his parked minivan, Bobo Lewis Heating And Air-Conditioning printed on the side in bold black lettering. She stood in the doorway and watched him until he drove down Main Street and the van disappeared around the corner on Fifth.

She’d told him she understood his devotion to his child, and she did. If she had a little girl, she would make her daughter the center of her universe. But she could never have the one thing she wanted most—a child of her own. Regret knotted her stomach. Sorrow clogged her throat with unshed tears.

Lori Lee went back inside the studio, sat on the edge of her desk and flipped through her Rolodex, then made her first telephone call to cancel her private lessons for the day.

Lori Lee chopped up the pack of lunch meat into tiny pieces and dumped it into Tyke’s doggie bowl. The brindled Boston terrier jumped up and down, gazing at Lori Lee with huge brown eyes.

She set the bowl on the floor and petted Tyke on the head. “Here you go, baby. Eat up while I fix my supper.”

While Tyke gobbled up his meal, Lori Lee removed a single-serving casserole from the refrigerator and popped it into the microwave. As she waited for her dinner to warm, she poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the round table that was dressed in lace and floral fabric matching the kitchen wallpaper.

Leaning back in the cane-bottom oak chair, she sighed. It had been a long day. She was tired, hungry and unnerved. She’d decided to wait until morning to tell Aunt Birdie the bad news about the central heat and air at the studio. She wasn’t overly concerned about the expense for her aunt, who probably had enough money to buy and sell the whole town. Birdie’s fifth husband had left her millions, and she’d been far from poor before Hubert Pierpont’s death. No, what Lori Lee dreaded was telling her aunt that Rick Warrick would be installing the new heating equipment and that he planned to enroll his daughter in the twirlers.

Birdie Guy Jackson Lovvorn Hill McWilliams Pierpont was a woman who loved men and simply couldn’t understand how her favorite niece had gone nearly six years without a significant other. As far as Aunt Birdie was concerned, dating didn’t count. A woman needed to be in love, and if she were in love, she should either be living with the object of her affection or married to him. Lori Lee fell short on all counts.

Aunt Birdie had been Lori Lee’s confidante as long as she could remember. She’d told her aunt things she’d never even told Deanie. And since her parents had moved to Naples, Florida, three years ago, after her younger brother Ronnie’s death, Lori Lee had become even closer to Birdie. Maybe it was her aunt’s big, warm heart or her zest for life that had always assured Lori Lee that Birdie would not only understand but sympathize.

If she had listened to her crazy Aunt Birdie’s advice when she was seventeen, Lori Lee would have acted on her feelings for Rick Warrick and ridden off with him on his motorcycle in the middle of the night. But Rick had frightened her, and she’d kept her distance, seldom even speaking to him. But in her dreams, awake or asleep, she had fantasized about being his woman.

She wasn’t a teenage girl anymore. She was an adult who had just turned thirty-two on her last birthday. She was old enough to know better than to allow her hormones to dictate her actions. And her hormones had certainly gone into overdrive this afternoon when Rick Warrick reentered her world

It wasn’t as if there weren’t men in her life. Actually there were more men chasing her than she knew what to do with, but not one of them made her stomach do flipflops or her blood sizzle with excitement. Ever since her divorce from Tory had become final and she’d moved back to Tuscumbia, there had been a steady stream of eligible, and a few not so eligible, men beating a path to her door. Several of those men had offered her marriage, but she had declined.

She’d been madly in love with Tory McBain, the big, handsome star quarterback for the University of Alabama, whom she’d married at twenty-two and divorced four years later. Their marriage had ended badly, leaving both her heart and spirit broken. But Lori Lee knew one thing for certain, she would never marry again until she could love someone else with that same kind of wondrous passion.

She supposed what upset her the most about being exposed to Rick’s rough and rugged brand of male sensuality was that she was still as scared of him as she’d ever been. The effect he had on her frightened her because it was stronger than anything she’d ever felt. Not even her love for Tory had been as powerful.

But she didn’t love Rick. How could she? She barely knew him. No, she didn’t love the man. She just wanted him—wanted him in a desperate, almost savage way she had never wanted anyone else.