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“You mean I was the one!” she exclaimed. “I was the woman you couldn’t get over?” When she saw his puzzled expression, she explained about Dearly’s telling her that he had gone through a “black period” over a woman. “I thought you’d gone to Utah to get over your beautiful, lost love and used me to restore your self-image.”
“You are the only woman I’ve ever loved, Camille. And you are definitely beautiful.” He was nibbling her shoulders while his hands stroked her hips and thighs.
“Erica—?” She had to know everything. There would be no more secrets or ghosts between them.
His hands stilled, and he raised his head. He looked away from her for a moment then met her eyes steadily. “I’ve slept with her, Camille, in desperation, but I’ve never loved her.”
“But after our wedding, in the restaurant, I heard you tell her that our marriage made no difference in how you felt about her.”
He chuckled softly. “I told her the truth. My marriage to you didn’t alter my feelings for her. I don’t like her and never did. She is the most selfish, conniving, manipulative woman I’ve ever known. Each time I was with her, I came away sick with myself. Instead of appeasing my longing for you, I only missed your sweetness and innocence more.”
“And these nights that you’ve been going out—”
He laughed. “Jealous, were you?” He kissed her nose. “Well, you were supposed to be. Actually, I spent most of those long, cold nights in the horse barn at the plantation. A couple of nights, I went fishing, and I hate to fish. A few nights, I just parked the car near the river and watched the barges go by until it was late enough to come home. I made plenty of noise so you couldn’t fail to note the lateness of the hour.”
“I never even noticed you were gone,” she said, suppressing a feigned yawn.
“Like hell, you didn’t,” he growled and covered her mouth with a possessive kiss. When they were breathless, he pulled away to look down on her adoringly. “Camille, I love you, but I have a confession to make.” His eyes lit up with a mischievous gleam that she had come to know well. This confession was not going to be a serious one. “I like the dining room.”
She pretended indignation, but reached out to tickle his ribs. “Oh, Zack! You’re exasperating.” She stared up at him, loving him. “You have your nerve bringing me to your bed this way when I wasn’t able to defend myself! And on Thanksgiving morning, too.”
His smile was wicked. “Well, this just gives me that much more to be thankful for.”
“Zack, don’t be irreverent.”
“Besides,” he continued, ignoring her. “I don’t think you really mind, do you?” He was lazily caressing her breasts, watching with fascination as the nipples became aroused under his fingers.
For an answer, she tangled her fingers in his hair and forced his head down to hers. “Make love to me,” she whispered.
“Are you sure you don’t have a headache?” He was serious, but they both laughed when they simultaneously caught the double entendre.
“If I do,” she answered, “I’ll take an aspirin. But later… much later.”
About the Author
Sandra Brown is the author of more than sixty New York Times bestsellers, including most recently Low Pressure; Lethal; Rainwater; Tough Customer; Smash Cut; Smoke Screen; Play Dirty; Ricochet; Chill Factor; White Hot; Hello, Darkness; The Crush; Envy; The Switch; The Alibi; Unspeakable; and Fat Tuesday, all of which jumped onto the New York Times list in the numbers one to five spots. There are more than eighty million copies of Sandra Brown’s books in print worldwide and her work has been translated into thirty-four languages. In 2008, Brown was named Thriller Master by the International Thriller Writers Association, the organization’s top honor. She currently lives in Texas. For more information you can visit www.SandraBrown.net.
Look for these Sandra Brown Novels!
Low Pressure
Lethal
Mirror Image
Where There’s Smoke
Charade
Exclusive
Envy
The Switch
The Crush
Fat Tuesday
