Reunion of Revenge. Kathie DeNosky

“I don’t know why you’d wonder something like that. I gave up caring what you do a long time ago.”

      He knew she was lying and for reasons beyond his comprehension, he wanted her to admit the truth. “You never could lie worth a damn, sweetheart.”

      “I’m not lying.”

      “Yes, you are.” He stepped forward and putting his arm around her waist, drew her to him. Lowering his voice, he whispered close to her ear. “You don’t like caring, but you do.”

      “D-don’t flatter yourself, Nick Daniels. What you do or who you do it with is none of my concern.”

      “Is that so?”

      “Absolutely.”

      The breathless tone of her voice and the tremor he felt pass through her slender body belied her words and, unable to stop himself, Nick pushed the brim of her ball cap up out of the way and lowered his head. “Let’s just settle the issue here and now.”

      Three

      When Nick covered her mouth with his, Cheyenne’s heart began to pound like she’d run a marathon and every cell in her body tingled to life. She tried to remain unaffected, tried to fight the heat filling every fiber of her being. She didn’t want to feel anything for him but contempt.

      This was the man who had broken her young heart all those years ago, the man who had left her behind without a word or even a backward glance. He’d proven what her father had said about him to be right on the money—there wasn’t anything more to Nick Daniels than a handful of empty promises and a boatload of heartaches. But try as she might, she couldn’t stop the honeyed warmth flowing through her veins or the overwhelming need to kiss him back.

      At eighteen, Nick the boy had kissed her with the soft, innocent reverence of youthful love. But as his lips moved over hers now, then urged her to open for him, she found that Nick the man kissed her with a thoroughness that caused her head to spin and made every bone in her body feel as if it had been turned to rubber.

      When he tightened his hold and she felt the hard contours of his body pressed to her much softer curves, her pulse throbbed and she gave up all pretense of resisting. His breathtaking exploration of her tender inner recesses stole her breath and wiped out all thought of the past, present or future. At the moment, all she wanted to do was savor the delicious sensations flowing from the top of her head all the way to her curled toes inside her scuffed boots.

      With her hands trapped between them, she had to grasp his shirt in order to keep her balance. But the flexing of his rock-hard pectoral muscles beneath the fabric sent her pulse racing and caused her knees to give way completely. Moving his hands from her back to cup her bottom, he positioned his leg between hers to help support her.