Connelly's Flame Read Free Page A

salad as the house shook from the
    force of the winds.
    “Grab a seat,” she murmured, as she opened the fridge to take out the pitcher of cold water she had
    in there. Turning towards the table, Dezarae sent the man sitting there a nervous smile, wishing he wouldn’t
    stare at her so.
    She dished up the food silently and put the plate in front of him. Turning her attention to her food,
    not the bronzed torso muscles he had. Concentrating on keeping her gaze firmly on the plate in front of her,
    she began to eat. Stay firm and concentrate on food. Girl, you know he is firm.

    “Where are we?” he asked her as they were finishing up dinner.
    “The middle of nowhere. You are about twenty miles from a town called Shadyville. In Montana.”

    9
    CONNELLY’S FLAME
    Aliyah Burke

    Shadyville. Why did that name seem familiar to him? Why can’t I remember anything? “Damn it,”
    he swore as his fist pounded on the tabletop.
    Unable to help it, Dezarae jumped and squealed, an act that brought him to a halt.
    “Jesus, I did it again. I don’t mean to scare you. I am just so frustrated that I can’t remember
    anything. I try but it is all just a complete blank.” His frustration was palpable even to her.
    “I’m sorry. I am just not used to having a…a…a…” She had no idea of how to finish that sentence.
    For the first time a half smile cracked that face. Firm lips twitched as he filled it in, “A man in the
    house.” He was glad she wasn’t.
    “Well…yes, I guess.”
    “Or a white man?” His eyes grabbed hers and forced a connection.
    She nodded and said candidly, for if there was one thing about Dezarae Phoenix Kerry, it was
    honest. “Especially not a white man.” Even more, not one sporting a freaking rebel flag tattoo.
    “Do you have something against white men?” The blunt question was asked as charcoal gray held
    dark chocolate. Please say no.
    “Not that I’m aware of. Have something against black women?” she asked in return. On the other
    hand, do I want to know if you do?
    “No, not at all.” If I ever did, I don’t remember it and I don’t now. I wish she wasn’t glancing at my
    tattoo so often.
    “Well, at least we got that out of the way. I have to tell you,” she said as she cleared off the dinner
    dishes and set down a blueberry cobbler and a pot of coffee. “I don’t know if I will be able to take you to
    town tomorrow if this storm keeps going the way it is.”
    “And you don’t mind me being here?” His head cocked to the side as he accepted the helping of
    warm cobbler and a hot mug of coffee.
    “I’m not going to send you out in the storm, if that is your concern. You didn’t even have a coat on.
    And, while I don’t know you from a hole in the ground, I don’t want to send you to your death.”
    “That’s good, ‘cause it would severely hamper our courting,” he said with a bone-melting grin.
    A brilliant smile filled her face. “Our courting?”
    “Well, I don’t always let women undress me down to my boxers, and let me sleep in their bed. So I
    figure we must be courting.”
    Her body shook at some images her mind painted for her. “That is an interesting piece of logic you
    have there. What makes you think you I am interested in being courted by you?” She arched her brows and
    stared at the handsome stranger across from her.
    He took a bite of the cobbler, washed it down with a swig of the coffee she had placed there, and
    never once released her gaze. “You just said you didn’t have anything against white men.”
    “I don’t, but it doesn’t mean you are my kind of man, does it?” she questioned him.
    There was a flash of something foreign in his eyes as they moved over her upper torso. “Oh, I’m
    your kind of man. I can see how you react to me,” he purred as he drew the fork slowly out of his firm
    mouth.
    He is a tease. “So you are handsome, big deal.” It was a struggle to keep her true feelings off her
    face.
    He shrugged. “Glad