Passion

Chapter 17

It was the sunlight streaming in that first stirred Brian. His eyes opened slowly. Remembrance came in a rush of contentment, and he looked down to see Amanda still close to him, but now turned so that her bottom was nestled securely against his groin. His palms rested on her breast. Her skin was warm and silky smooth.

She was peaceful in her sleep her body lax, one hand curled beneath her cheek giving the illusion of child like innocence. But she was no child.

Very quietly Brian raised himself on to one elbow gazing down at her, a strange stirring mix of emotions  swamping him. He wanted to wake her and make love to her he wanted to lie down and hold her forever.

He forced himself to be considerate and do neither. She was exhausted and she needed her sleep. She didn't move so much as an eyelash when he carefully slid out of her bed.

The first order of business was a shave. His morning beard was harsh, and he didn't want to scratch her tender skin. And he didn't want to have to avoid kissing her all the most delectable places because of his beard stubble. He smiled at the thought.

Amanda wasn't the straitlaced narrow minded prude he had expected. All her talk of reputations and gossip had been misleading. She was magnificent. Wild and open and honest with her feelings. She had told him she was wonderful.

The mysterious masked woman had said the Same thing.

That wayward thought had him scowling at himself in the mirror. It was traitorous. Amanda deserved better. He was a cad to still concern himself with another woman's identity. If he never discovered the truth it wouldn't matter.

Deliberately he shoved those disturbing thoughts from his mind. The mystery woman may have been a fantasy come to life, but Amanda was a living fantasy. Her effect on him was unbelievable, and he couldn't seem to get enough of her.

Naked, he stood in the bathroom and looked around. Surely Amanda had a razor somewhere.He checked in the vanity drawers then the small medicine cabinet. He didn't find a razor but a small contact case caught his eye.

Smiling he envisioned Amanda wearing contacts regulating the ugly glasses to the desk drawer forever. She had beautiful eyes the hazel clear and unique and pure.

It was idle curiosity that prompted him to open the case. For a moment he stared stupidly at the colored lenses. They were very bright familiar blue. Then his face reddened.

He had seen that color before. The night at the party.

Reality beat a swift path into his brain.

His guileless forthright, honest Amanda played him for a fool. He remembered the recent phone call, and his face burned, the heat of humiliation spreading rapidly down his neck. He was filled with fierce blinding anger and the most devastating disappointment he'd ever known.

He had thought of Amanda as near perfect dedicated to the children and to loftier causes  for the common good. He'd thought her stubborn, headstrong and thoroughly independent. But not a liar.

She was still sleeping when he entered the room. He was intent on his course, not about to be swayed by the alluring picture she made. Deliberately he sat on the side of the bed, promptly waking her up.

Her long lashes fluttered and her eyes opened slowly. She looked up into his unsmiling face and reached for him.

"Brian." Her hand landed on his naked thigh, and she stroked him. He dropped forward on one elbow so they were nose to nose. "Good morning sweetheart. I trust you slept well."

Her hand come up to his cheek, and she nodded. She felt his stubby chin then smiled slowly. "You are so dark."

His look was grim. Pushing away the covers he surveyed her body. "You are certainly not." his eyes fell onto the tight curls between her legs. " Light Brown. Close to the color of your beautiful head. Maybe not as golden. Certainly not black."