![]() ![]() Funny, he'd alwaysbeen such a cautious man. There was an aura of recklessness about her that held infinite allure. ![]() But her attraction was more thanbeauty and passion. Right this moment he wanted her with a hungerthat was painful. What was herfascination? It wasn't her beauty, though her dark hairhad the sheen of midnight and her almond-shaped eyesand smooth creamy skin and sultry mouth inflamedhim. ![]() ![]() But no matter how littleshe cared - and sometimes it seemed to him thatshe made her disdain for him more apparent everyday - he knew he would never leave her, that he woulddo what she wished, when she wished. He wished with a quickbitterness that he could as easily control his appetitesin every sphere. Because of his diabeteshe permitted himself only a half cup everymorning, no cream, no sugar. Hewatched the clear black stream of coffee, strong, hot,nerve-stretching, pour into his cup. Those eyes - they reminded him uncomfortablyof a cat watching a bird, remorseless, predatory, unfathomable.He focused on the coffeepot, a fine chinaone with pink roses twining around the spout. "If it weren't for Virginia,we'd be there now."Ĭarl stared into her amber eyes, looked quicklyaway. "We always go to Saint Thomas in January." Irenelifted a thin dark eyebrow. ![]()
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