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“And if that isn’t clear enough. I want you, Eddy Carmichael, in a way that has nothing to do with race, but everything to do with me being a man and you being a beautiful woman.”
Her hand shook so intensely she almost dropped the knife.
He stood and walked over to her side. Once there, he gently raised her chin. Time slowed. Needing to take a stand, even as his declaration rattled her to her core, she whispered, “I can’t give you what you want.”
“I know, little queen... so let me kiss you and I promise I’ll go.”
She knew she should tell him no, but curiosity, yearning, and emotions that had no name conspired with those little shoots of hope to keep her from denying him and herself. He lowered his mouth to hers and the kiss was so masterful and overwhelming, the knife slid slowly from her fingers to the floor. As he eased her closer, the heat of his body and the way his lips fit so sensually against her own was new, wondrous, and oh so glorious. She thrilled to the soft seeking of his tongue, the faint scent of his cologne and the gentle yet possessive pressure of his arm against her back. Soon she was drowning in emotions so riotous and breathtaking, she forced herself to take a step back and out of the embrace in order not to offer him more.
Branding her with his eyes, he reached out and slowly traced her lips. “I want another, but I gave you my word that I would go.”
Eddy was so enthralled, she had no words. What was it about this man that made her lose herself so completely and toss logic to the wind? Parts of her wanted him to stay, and for a woman who’d always known up from down and right from wrong, it was terrifying.
He stroked her cheek. “Good night, darlin’.”
And then he was gone.
Later, after her bath, as Eddy lay in bed in the dark, she wondered if Sylvia knew of a nearby insane asylum she could check herself into. That she’d gone temporarily mad had to be the reason she’d let him kiss her, and heaven help her, want more. She touched her lips and the memory made them tingle. Did all men kiss with such intensity? Having no answer, she hoped now that he had kissed her, he would be content and move on. Truthfully, she found that not much to her liking because it would prove that he’d only been toying with her, just as she’d suspected, but the fiery encounter left her mind and senses so muddled she didn’t know what she wanted—except more of his kisses, a shameless part of herself crowed. Uttering a loud groan, she punched her pillow, turned over and hoped the drumming sounds of the mine equipment would lull her to sleep before sunrise.
