The Promise of Change - By Rebecca Heflin Page 0,100

in mind?” he asked against her mouth.

“Hmm. I thought maybe a brisk run through the park . . .” Her fingers threaded in his hair, holding his mouth to hers.

“That’s too bad. I was hoping you had something a little more . . . amorous in mind.” The scent and taste of her assaulted his senses. Two weeks of restraint with her in close proximity had been sheer torture. Tasting her now was akin to a parched man getting his first sip of cool water. It only made him want more.

Sliding the thin strap of her nightgown off her shoulder, he kissed his way down her neck to her collarbone.

Her breath shortened to shallow gasps, her pulse thickened, as the familiar warmth curled in her belly.

Lifting her off her knees, he gently pressed her back onto the bed, his free arm swiping the discarded newspapers from the bed, sending them fluttering to the floor.

“Well, I suppose this qualifies as an aerobic activity,” she murmured.

“Very aerobic.”

“Robert was very pleasant, even charming, this evening.”

“Yes, maybe those anger management classes are paying off,” Alex said, tongue firmly in cheek.

“Well, maybe he should focus more on anger management and less on your love life,” she said with disapproval.

Alex chuckled. “Perhaps you’re right. Maybe he should consider hiring you as his political advisor.”

Lying in bed, luxuriating in the feel of their entangled bodies, they recounted the evening’s odd turn of events.

Alex’s fingers ran down her spine as if he were stroking a cat. It wouldn’t have surprised her if she’d started purring.

By the end of the evening, he and Robert were sitting at the kitchen table laughing and joking over a beer, regaling Sarah with stories of their tumultuous childhood relationship. Emma looked on the whole scene with an affectionate smile.

Robert was a gifted storyteller, a gift of gab being an important characteristic in a successful lawmaker. Sarah had finally learned the story behind the rugby grudge.

When Robert and Alex were teenagers, the two had been playing rugby on opposing teams, with Alex’s team ahead. Alex was running with the ball when Robert hit him with an illegal elbow to the chin, busting open a gash. The wound required stitches.

Robert admitted to Sarah that he was a sore loser, especially when it came to losing to his big brother.

Sarah and Alex were content to lie in each other’s arms for a time, each lost in their own thoughts.

Sarah’s giggle broke the silence. “Been skinny-dipping lately?”

“She didn’t!”

“Oh, yes she did!”

Alex groaned, as he put a hand up to cover his face. “Did she tell you . . . everything?”

“Poor Alex. What a terrible place to have poison ivy. Let me see,” she said, as she lifted the sheet, “did it leave any scars?”

“Come here, you saucy minx.” He rolled over, pulling her underneath him, promptly ending any further conversation.

Chapter 12

As Sarah waited for Michael to instruct the actors and crew, she asked herself why she’d written such a romantic final scene. She couldn’t have ended with a handshake? Thank God she hadn’t written a sex scene! Note to self: Any future books where Alex may cast himself as the hero will have no sex scenes. Strictly PG.

The location manager had found a cozy little 1920s bungalow in Berkeley Park, a lovely neighborhood just west of mid-town Atlanta, to serve as Aunt Millie’s house.

Christen comes to Atlanta in search of Amelia and finds her living in her aunt’s modest house, despite having inherited over two million dollars. The exterior scene where Christen unexpectedly appears at Amelia’s door had already been shot, and the crew had moved into the tiny living room.

Brooke, Alex and Sarah had managed to reduce the tension to a low hum, but Sarah wasn’t sure which of them, Alex or herself, had it worse: while he had to act like he loved her, Sarah had to watch while he kissed her.

“Okay, let’s block the scene.” Michael took his seat next to Sarah’s. “Brooke, you walk into the room stopping in front of the sofa and turn to face Alex. Alex you follow Brooke, hesitating in the doorway, then you make up your mind to tell her that you love her, and persuade her she loves you, whether she wants to admit it or not.”

Brooke and Alex followed Michael’s direction, but in place of their lines, Brooke asked, “Alex, do you think you can play this scene convincingly?”

“Brooke, I’ll play my role with consummate professionalism, and everyone who watches will believe I’m totally captivated by

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