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“It would highlight everything the organization stands for—affordable, healthy food for needy families.”

A thought occurred to her and her shoulders sagged. “We’d never be able to afford the costs to develop something like that, even if I could talk the other board members for Body and Soul into it.”

“Tell you what. Give me a proposal for it—nothing fancy, just a page or so, something I can give to my accountant—and I’ll back it. I’ll pass it on to my publisher, too. Maybe they’ll pick it up. With a wider distribution, it’d be a decent moneymaker for the organization.” She gave him an incredulous glance. “What? I wanted to do some charitable work for Body and Soul. I told you I think it’s a good cause.”

“But you’re already doing the photography for the brochure!”

He shrugged. “I’ll be able to finish that tomorrow morning. I can do more,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Besides, it’ll give me a good reason to return to Vulture’s Canyon soon.”

All thoughts of a possible cookbook vanished. “When do you plan to leave town?”

“Day after tomorrow. I have a photo shoot in the United Arab Emirates scheduled at the beginning of the week.”

Sherona took a sip of her tea, willing the sinking sadness and flash of disappointment she experienced to fade. Of course she’d known he’d be leaving Vulture’s Canyon soon. Chance was a gypsy, given the nature of his job. It was just that in addition to the mind-blowing sex they’d had, she was starting to get used to his warm, natural male grace.

“It must be so exciting for you, going to countries like that . . . seeing those different cultures and ways of life,” she said wistfully.

“I guess it’s been hard for you to travel, bringing up Derek the way you did.”

She nodded. “But not just because of Derek. He’s in college now anyway, and gone for the majority of the year. The diner won’t run itself, though.” She realized she might have sounded maudlin as she nibbled on her bread thoughtfully and gave him a smile. “You know, it’s never been closed once, except for Sunday afternoons, since my folks died.”

“You’re a hard worker.”

“Or maybe I just haven’t got anything better to do in this excuse of a town,” she said, laughing.

After dinner, Chance insisted on cleaning up, claiming he had to earn his dinner. He shooed her into the living room with a cup of spearmint herb tea. Sherona leafed through a magazine, grinning every once in a while when she heard his boisterous efforts resounding from the kitchen—cupboards slamming closed, dishes rattling, and Chance singing a rousing, off-key tune as if to bolster his energetic cleanup.

He joined her ten minutes later carrying his own cup of tea and sank down next to her on the couch. Earlier, as they’d eaten dinner, it had occurred to her how easy it was to talk to him, perhaps because some of the sexual tension between them had broken after their first encounter. She’d even wondered if his down-to-earth insouciance wasn’t the reason she’d felt intuitively comfortable enough with him to do something as risky as she had.

Now that they sat together sipping their tea and talking on her couch, however, Sherona realized that her intense sexual awareness and attraction to Chance Hathoway hadn’t disappeared; it had just ebbed slightly following their charged encounter. As she sat there with her feet curled beneath her, admiring his profile and the shape of his long legs and his lean, muscular torso and just about everything else about his appearance, sexual anticipation mounted by the second, even surpassing her former attraction.

“So,” he said once nightfall was complete and the lamp next to the couch glowed in the windowpane of her picture window, “will you be able to get away tomorrow evening to finish the photo shoot?”

“I probably shouldn’t,” she said quietly, studying her ceramic mug. Even at the mention of the photos and her wanton behavior, arousal curled in her lower belly and tightened her sex. “I’d have to find someone to watch the diner.”

He set down his tea on the table and drew one knee onto the couch, turning to the side to more fully face her. “We can do it another time,” he said so levelly that she glanced up in surprise. She’d thought he’d try to coax her. He smiled, as if he’d known what she expected.

“I’m not going to push you, Sherona,” he said, his voice low and compelling. “You know I’d like to finish the photos, but it’s not the most important thing to me at the moment.”

“What is?”

“Getting to know you better. Making love to you in the way a man normally makes love to a woman for the first time.”

She smiled. “What way is that?”

“Well, I don’t want to give too much of a pat answer, but I’m pretty sure it usually doesn’t involve having her strip down, tying her up and ordering her to pleasure me.”

“I just thought maybe you Aussies didn’t like to mess around with niceties on first dates,” she murmured. He chuckled and reached out and stroked her elbow.

Their gazes held. His grin lingered on his lips. Her heart throbbed in her chest.

He was an incredibly sexy man.

“I want to take off all your clothes and touch you everywhere, Sherona,” he said as he slid closer to her on the couch and his arm draped around her shoulder. She looked up at him, his face just inches from hers. “I know I’ll remember the way you looked when you got out of that lake until my dying day. But I want to remember perfectly how you feel, too.” His lips brushed against hers. “I don’t ever want to forget how you smell and”—his tongue dipped into her mouth, a wet, elusive tease—“how you taste.”

Chapter Seven

Excitement shot through her at his words and sexy caress. She put her free hand at the back of his head and pulled him down to her, pressing her mouth to his, shaping their lips together. He groaned in approval of her hunger and took command of the kiss, spearing her lips with his tongue and boldly exploring her mouth. He pulled her closer, his male hardness and heat tempting her beyond measure. She returned his kiss avidly, sliding her tongue against his, applying a focused suction that made his throat vibrate in a growl. He broke their kiss and set her mug on the coffee table.


Tags: Bethany Kane, Beth Kery One Night of Passion Erotic