Page 147 of Breath of Scandal

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“The reasons I gave you for wanting to build the plant here are genuine.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“Then why can’t you just accept it and leave it alone?”

“Because it doesn’t jive. Someone who oozes that much compassion for her fellow man would offer a needed kidney.”

“No one is cutting Graham open and removing his kidney.”

“Right—especially if the recipient is married to your former best friend and might be your son’s father.” He took a step closer. “Did Jolly dump you for Donna Dee when you were pregnant and still in love with him?”

“I hated him.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere. Why?”

“Leave me alone, Dillon.”

“Not until I understand what’s going on.”

“You’re not supposed to understand.”

“Why do you flinch every time a man comes near you?”

“I don’t flinch.”

“The hell you don’t,” he said softly. “You nearly fainted a few seconds ago when your breasts came up against me. And the expression on your face when you discovered I’m hard defied description.”

“I didn’t notice.”

“You’re lying. Is Hutch Jolly the man who made you frigid?”

“I’m not frigid.”

“No? Could have fooled me.”

“Maybe I just don’t find you attractive.”

He linked his fingers at the back of her neck beneath her hair where her skin was dewy from the heat. “That’s another lie, Jade.” Ducking his head, he whisked his mustache across her lips. “You said yourself you liked my kiss.”

“I don’t.”

“Liar.”

He touched the corner of her lips with his tongue. It was thrilling, terrifying. His teasing caress made her hot and dizzy. She curled her hands into the front of his shirt, feeling the solid muscles beneath the cloth. His size and strength overwhelmed her; he could hurt her. He felt and smelled masculine. His maleness both seduced and repelled. She fought its appeal and her terror of it.

“Don’t do this, Dillon,” she begged against his seeking lips. “I can’t replace her. No woman can.”

His head snapped back. “What did you say?”

“I won’t be one of those women you ‘nail’ in grief for your wife.”

“Is that what you think you are, just another soft, wet route to forgetfulness?”

“It’s possible, isn’t it?”

He muttered an expletive. “Listen, if that’s all I wanted, I could have a naked woman in my bed by nightfall.”

“But would she also have a teenage son?”


Tags: Sandra Brown Romance