Her Royal Bed Read Free

in a blink, but she still hoped she could somehow retrieve them because Bobby’s brows drifted upward suggestively.
    His grin widened. “Your first, huh? How was I?”
    She let out a groan. “This situation is becoming more and more humiliating every second I stand here.”
    â€œDoes that mean you won’t be doing this kind of thing again?”
    â€œNot a chance.”
    â€œAn end to the spying?”
    She nodded. “I think that would be best. Obviously I can’t handle the outcome.”
    â€œAnd which outcome is that? The verbal sparring or the mild inquisition?”
    â€œMild?” she asked with a touch of humor in her tone.
    â€œOh, c’mon,” said Bobby, his eyes glinting with a dangerous blue fire. “A man has the right—no, the obligation, to find why he’s being tailed. Even when it’s a beautiful woman who’s doing the tailing.”
    He was unbearably attractive, rough and used and slightly broken in spirit. Jane stood there, brazenly staring at him, wondering what it would be like to touch him, to run her fingers over his face, that stubborn jaw, that slash of a scar on his upper lip. She wondered if he would be rough with a woman in bed or achingly slow and deliberate. She wondered if he allowed anyone to comfort him when he grieved for his sister.
    Such strange, diverse thoughts worried her, made her heart thud in her chest, made her belly feel warm and liquid, as though she’d swallowed a cup of sweet honey.
    â€œSo, was there something you wanted?” he asked, cutting into her private reverie, a faint smile playing on his lips.
    â€œNo,” she said quickly, then retreated, shook her head. “Well, that’s not true.” How did she put it? “I was…interested in you.”
    â€œWas?”
    â€œAm,” she said without thinking.
    â€œIs that so?” Smiling lazily, he leaned back against the railing.
    â€œWhat you said tonight,” she began, walking gingerly toward him. “What you said…about your sister, and how you feel about her…it really moved me.”
    His expression changed in an instant. Where there had been an easy, roguish grin, a dark, thin line now etched his mouth. “So you’re not really interested in me. You came to find me out of pity.”
    â€œNo,” she said at once, wondering how he could havemisunderstood her so, wondering what was pushing her even to continue with this conversation.
    He took a swallow of his beer, then muttered tersely, “The sad dog with no tail, right?”
    â€œThat’s not it at all.”
    â€œDarlin’, I’ve seen it before, and I’m not looking for anyone’s pity.”
    Above them, the wind played with the clouds, blowing the pale-gray poufs over the stars and moon, while casting Bobby Callahan’s face in an eerily sensual shadow. But Jane could see his eyes clearly enough. Dark, and hot with emotion. A quick shiver traveled her spine. She’d seen that look before, seen eyes that masked great pain and regret. She’d seen that look in herself and in her mother, right before Tara Hefner had lost her sight.
    She took another step toward him. “You have it all wrong, Mr. Callahan—”
    â€œI doubt it,” he interrupted.
    â€œI wasn’t offering you pity.”
    â€œWhat are you offering then, Jane Hefner?”
    The question startled her. So did his expression. Unmasked passion—though from anger or sexual curiosity, she wasn’t sure.
    She stood on legs filled with water and listened to her heart pound in her chest. What did she want from this man? To talk? To exchange painful histories and hopes for the future? That was an incredibly brazen thing to expect from a stranger, now wasn’t it?
    A pang of need snaked through her, through her belly, up to her breasts. It was a completely insane moment for her as she realized she wanted him to touch her, hold her