Read Online Body Heat (Vintage Category Romance) by Maddie James - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Maddie James
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which she promptly turned on her side, away from him, with a huge sigh.
Men.
****
Darian watched, feeling the slight grin on his face fall into a frown.
Before he turned in, Darian added two more large logs to the fire, and brought a couple more inside and placed them by the door in case he needed them throughout the night. Sitting at the table for a little while longer, he completed his journal entry for the past two days. Then he sat and simply stared at the sleeping form across the room from him. Ignoring the want surging up through his body, he quickly snapped the book shut, extinguished the coal oil lamp at the table, and then stepped across the room.
Just before he stooped to blow out the flame on the table beside of the bed, the golden highlights of Blaire’s hair sparked in the lamplight, causing him to pause. Barely a few inches of her hair peeked out at him from beneath the covers, for she had them drawn up tight under her chin. She still faced away from him. And just when he thought he might like to reach out and touch the soft short tresses, he stopped himself and quickly blew out the flame, thrusting darkness upon the room.
The only light was from the flame in the fireplace now, which was more than enough for Darian to make his way to the pallet on the floor. Quietly, he stripped away the layers of clothing—shirt, undershirt, jeans, underwear—until he stood naked in the dark. He glanced once more about the room, lingering momentarily on the bed in the shadows, and then lay upon the layers of blankets facing the fire. He covered himself with an old worn quilt.
****
Sensing him so near, Blaire held her breath as he’d stood beside the bed. Not realizing at first that he only came closer to extinguish the flame in the kerosene lamp, she nearly trembled at the thought of him throwing back the covers and sliding into the bed beside her. Brief flashes of what his hands would feel like covering her flesh attacked the images forming in her brain. So she did all she could do: she held her breath and pretended she was asleep. And soon, but not soon enough, he blew out the light.
Only after several minutes had passed, had she dared to move from her position facing the wall to look in his direction. And when she did, she immediately wished she hadn’t, for she was faced with the most magnificent male form humanly possible silhouetted against the orange-blue flame of the fireplace. As he peeled one article of clothing after another off his body, she grew warmer and warmer. Not from the heat of the fireplace, but from the heat building within her at watching Darian undress.
He turned toward her then, and seemed to look directly at her. Blaire closed her eyes and held her breath once more, fearful she would give herself away. Fearful he could sense the surge building with her. Because for him to see her staring at him would only make things worse tomorrow, she was sure. Already, she was beginning to understand what he was thinking. She didn’t want him to even think he knew what she was thinking.
****
“You realize, of course, that today is Thanksgiving, don’t you?”
Darian glanced over his shoulder as she gathered the breakfast dishes off the table. “One day’s the same as another up here.” He turned back to the sink where he’d just added a pot full of boiling water to the ice-cold water from the pump.
Blaire stepped up beside him and laid the dishes on the porcelain sink. “But Thanksgiving is kind of special, don’t you think?”
Darian added a squirt of soap to the water, plunged the plates into the sink and began washing them. “Just another day.” He rinsed the dish in cold water and set it in the drainer. Blaire picked it up and dried it.
He could feel her gaze upon him as he worked. Dish after dish was washed in silence. Then the huge iron skillet. Finally, he let the water out of the drain and turned to her. “Sometimes a man just doesn’t have anything to be thankful for.”
Men.
****
Darian watched, feeling the slight grin on his face fall into a frown.
Before he turned in, Darian added two more large logs to the fire, and brought a couple more inside and placed them by the door in case he needed them throughout the night. Sitting at the table for a little while longer, he completed his journal entry for the past two days. Then he sat and simply stared at the sleeping form across the room from him. Ignoring the want surging up through his body, he quickly snapped the book shut, extinguished the coal oil lamp at the table, and then stepped across the room.
Just before he stooped to blow out the flame on the table beside of the bed, the golden highlights of Blaire’s hair sparked in the lamplight, causing him to pause. Barely a few inches of her hair peeked out at him from beneath the covers, for she had them drawn up tight under her chin. She still faced away from him. And just when he thought he might like to reach out and touch the soft short tresses, he stopped himself and quickly blew out the flame, thrusting darkness upon the room.
The only light was from the flame in the fireplace now, which was more than enough for Darian to make his way to the pallet on the floor. Quietly, he stripped away the layers of clothing—shirt, undershirt, jeans, underwear—until he stood naked in the dark. He glanced once more about the room, lingering momentarily on the bed in the shadows, and then lay upon the layers of blankets facing the fire. He covered himself with an old worn quilt.
****
Sensing him so near, Blaire held her breath as he’d stood beside the bed. Not realizing at first that he only came closer to extinguish the flame in the kerosene lamp, she nearly trembled at the thought of him throwing back the covers and sliding into the bed beside her. Brief flashes of what his hands would feel like covering her flesh attacked the images forming in her brain. So she did all she could do: she held her breath and pretended she was asleep. And soon, but not soon enough, he blew out the light.
Only after several minutes had passed, had she dared to move from her position facing the wall to look in his direction. And when she did, she immediately wished she hadn’t, for she was faced with the most magnificent male form humanly possible silhouetted against the orange-blue flame of the fireplace. As he peeled one article of clothing after another off his body, she grew warmer and warmer. Not from the heat of the fireplace, but from the heat building within her at watching Darian undress.
He turned toward her then, and seemed to look directly at her. Blaire closed her eyes and held her breath once more, fearful she would give herself away. Fearful he could sense the surge building with her. Because for him to see her staring at him would only make things worse tomorrow, she was sure. Already, she was beginning to understand what he was thinking. She didn’t want him to even think he knew what she was thinking.
****
“You realize, of course, that today is Thanksgiving, don’t you?”
Darian glanced over his shoulder as she gathered the breakfast dishes off the table. “One day’s the same as another up here.” He turned back to the sink where he’d just added a pot full of boiling water to the ice-cold water from the pump.
Blaire stepped up beside him and laid the dishes on the porcelain sink. “But Thanksgiving is kind of special, don’t you think?”
Darian added a squirt of soap to the water, plunged the plates into the sink and began washing them. “Just another day.” He rinsed the dish in cold water and set it in the drainer. Blaire picked it up and dried it.
He could feel her gaze upon him as he worked. Dish after dish was washed in silence. Then the huge iron skillet. Finally, he let the water out of the drain and turned to her. “Sometimes a man just doesn’t have anything to be thankful for.”
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