Beneath the Covers (Kimani Romance) Read Free

something on the coffee table. Then he lit a candle and she breathed a sigh of relief as light pushed away the darkness. She felt the cushion shift as he sat down beside her. The faint scent of his cologne drifted toward her, reminding her of jasmine. She glanced at him, not wanting to appear overeager to see his face. He was still mostly in shadow, but the flickering candle flame highlighted his strong jaw and sensuous mouth. He hadn’t put on a shirt, but just as she’d guessed, he was wearing a pair of dark blue jeans.
    “Here,” he said.
    Claudia felt a soft package placed in her hands.
    “It’s a sandwich.”
    “Thank you.”
    Claudia unwrapped the sandwich from its plastic encasing then bit in with gusto, too famished to be dainty. “Mmm, a BLT with extra mayo. My favorite.”
    “I know.”
    He would. It was his, too. She swallowed hard. Why couldn’t he let the past stay buried? What was he up to? She glanced down at the sandwich. Was she eating his dinner?
    “I bought two at the airport. Don’t worry, I’ve already eaten.”
    Unnerved by how easily he could read her, Claudia squeezed the sandwich until mayonnaise oozed out the sides. Even back then he’d been able to pierce her thoughts like no other man.
    “You might as well finish it since you’re still hungry.”
    “Stop doing that.”
    “Doing what?”
    “Reading my thoughts.”
    He turned to her and grinned. “You used to think it was romantic.”
    “That was a long time ago.”
    Peter shrugged. “I’m hardly a mind reader. Otherwise—” He stopped and his grin dimmed. He turned away.
    Claudia took another bite, determined not to force him to finish what he was about to say, although part of her wanted him to. Otherwise what? They would have been married? Las Vegas wouldn’t have happened?
    “We’ve always had a strange connection, that’s all. You can read me as easily as I read you.”
    He was only partially right. They did have a connection, but she hadn’t been able to read him as well. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have let him break her heart.
    She looked at him again, sensing he was lost in thought as he stared at something in the distance. In the past she would have asked him what he was thinking. Back then every thought, feeling or mood he had was important to her, but now she didn’t care.
    She dabbed her mouth with a napkin he’d given her. “You don’t have to stay here with me.”
    Peter sent her a look but didn’t reply. He stretched out his legs.
    To someone else he might have looked relaxed, but Claudia knew he wasn’t. She sensed he was waiting for something. What, she couldn’t guess. It had nothing to do with the power outage; it was more instinctual, predatory and patient.
    Peter was his most formidable when he was patient, because he was a man of movement. Always in motion, he could cook, watch TV and hold a conversation all at the same time. But when he concentrated on a goal, he expected a specific outcome that always landed in his favor.
    “Are you expecting someone?” she asked him, trying to gauge his mood.
    His gaze slid to her face. “Not anymore.”
    Claudia finished her sandwich then rubbed her hands together. Somehow the darkness didn’t seem as frightening as the man beside her. But she was a professional. She’d dealt with drug-addicted surgeons and crisis-driven top executives. She would handle him by being cool and detached from the situation. Emotions altered objectivity. Perhaps he was also uncomfortable with the situation. She would put him at ease and then take control.
    “Congratulations on your last book and your radio show,” she said, making sure her voice was suitably impressed. “I’m so happy you’ve done so well for yourself.”
    A bitter smile touched Peter’s mouth. “Don’t even try that with me, Claudia. You know better than that.”
    She stiffened, feeling caught and exposed, but quickly hid her emotions behind defensiveness. “I was only trying to have a