Читать книгу Rafe Sinclair's Revenge - Gayle Wilson - Страница 2

And judging by the open decanter, she knew who. Maybe she had changed everything else, but Elizabeth still kept the best whiskey in the Waterford.

“What the hell are you doing here, Rafe?” she asked, not raising her voice. Wherever he was, he would have been watching her since she’d entered the kitchen.

“You’ve cut your hair.”

He always noticed things like that. Maybe too much. Still, the fact that he had noticed caused an unwanted thickness in her throat.

From force of habit, her hand rose to rake the chin-length hair that had once been long enough to tangle around his bare, sweating shoulders as they made love.

At the memory, a jolt of sexual heat seared along nerve pathways that had seemed atrophied. They weren’t. Painfully, unexpectedly, she knew that now.

Steeling herself, she walked into the living room. After five years, she was in the same room with Rafe Sinclair. Something she had thought would never happen again.