Driving Her Crazy - By Amy Andrews Page 0,63
at times. But it’s helped. I’ve started to write a memoir about the time I was embedded. I even went on a commercial flight just recently. The dream doesn’t come so much any more.’
He paused. Smiled at her. ‘Now all I usually dream about is you.’ She smiled back at him and he felt encouraged. ‘I can’t promise I’m going to be happiness and light twenty-four seven but my life didn’t make sense for a long time and then you came along and, briefly, it did. I don’t know how our future is going to pan out, Sadie—I’m so happy that you’re pursuing your art dream and at some stage I’m going to want to take another overseas assignment—but I know that whatever happens I want you in it. I love you, Sadie.’
Sadie considered him over the rim of the glass, her heart beating frantically at words that were like music to her ears. The man who had taught her to embrace who she was, to glory in it, was telling her he loved her.
‘That’s all I need,’ she murmured.
Kent held her gaze. He wasn’t sure what that meant. Or whose move it was.
Sadie sat forward, placing her wine glass on the table beside him. ‘So,’ she said, resting her bent elbow on her knee and propping her chin on her palm, ‘these dreams? Do I have my clothes on?’
Okay, Sadie’s move. He grinned. ‘Not often.’
‘Are they...graphic?’
Kent nodded. ‘Usually.’
She reached for his tie and started to untie the knot. ‘I think you’re going to have to demonstrate,’ she murmured.
Kent nuzzled her temple, her ear, her neck. ‘I’m good at demonstrating.’
Sadie slid the tie out from the collar with a loud zip. She stood, his tie dangling from her finger. ‘Well come on then, let’s get started.’
She held out her hand and he took it.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from The Taming of a Wild Child by Kimberly Lang.
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ONE
The only thing worse than waking up naked in a strange bed was realizing there was someone else sleeping in the bed, too.
Someone male.
The bright light on the other side of her eyelids sent pain streaking through Lorelei LaBlanc’s head as she tried to piece together exactly what the hell was going on...and who she’d just spent the night with.
She forced herself to lie still; jumping right up might wake her companion, and she didn’t want to get straight into a confrontation before she had a handle on things.
Think, Lorelei, think.
She had a hangover that would slay a mule, and it hurt to think. How much champagne had she consumed in the end?
Connor and Vivi’s wedding had gone off without a hitch; all of the four hundred guests had had a fabulous time. The church had never looked better, and the hotel had outdone itself with both the decor and the food. She’d been at the head table for dinner, but once the dancing had begun and the champagne had really started flowing... Well, that was where things began to get a little fuzzy. She remembered having a small, good-natured disagreement with Donovan St. James over...
Her eyes flew open.
Oh. My. God.
Bits and pieces of the night before came rushing at her with distressing speed and clarity.
Carefully, so as not to aggravate her hangover, she rolled slowly to her other side. Sure enough, Donovan lay there on his back, bare-chested, with only a sheet covering his hips and one leg. His hands were stacked behind his head as he stared at the ceiling.
She swore under her breath.
“Right there with you, Princess.”
The amused sigh in Donovan’s voice put her nerves on edge. “What the hell happened last night?”
He had the gall to look pointedly at the tangled sheets—which she was currently trying to pull over herself in a belated attempt at modesty—and raise an eyebrow. She really wasn’t ready to go to the whole we had sex bit just yet. She cleared her throat. “I mean, how? Why?”
“How? Buckets of champagne. And