Free His Love by M. O. Kenyan Page A

needle she wanted to bolt out of the door. She needed to get away from the reminder of her past indulgence before she gave in.
    “Are you afraid of a little needle?” the nurse asked, amused.
    “Totally the opposite of that.” She pushed back her sleeves for the second time that day. “I’m an addict. I mean I was an addict.”
    “I’m not here to judge you, only to take your blood,” the nurse said sympathetically. “We have all been down that road in some shape or form.”
    Rayne looked away, but couldn’t help the comforting feeling that came over her as the needle sank into her skin. Although nothing was going in, it still gave her a nostalgic feeling. When she opened her eyes she wished she could take the afternoon back. She met Antonio’s eyes and his expression was sturdy and apprehensive. When did he get here? He was watching her as she almost cheered at the feeling of a needle pricking her. He didn’t say a word when the nurse took her temperature and blood pressure. He just watched. One black brow arched when they were left alone. Rayne knew what that expression meant and what it was asking. She could read him like a book and apparently he could do the same for her.
    “How is Alessandria?”
    “We’ll know more in a while.” He made a simple exclamation that drained all the tension in his body. He moved toward Rayne and traced his fingers along the track marks on her arms. “How long have you been clean?”
    “Four years.”
    “I saw the expression on your face when she pricked you.”
    “I’m not using anymore.” Rayne became defensive.
    “I didn’t say you were, but I never see you attending meetings.”
    Words of anger sat on her tongue, but the concern in Antonio’s voice and the way he looked at her made her crumble. “This is a small community and I didn’t want you to find out before I was ready to tell you.”
    “Don’t you see that you need to talk to someone?”
    “I just need to stay away from you, especially when you are drinking.” She could almost taste the whiskey on his lips from the last time they made love. “That night you were drowning yourself in your sorrows—”
    “I kissed you,” he gasped in shock. “I didn’t—wasn’t thinking.”
    “You didn’t know. I could taste the alcohol on your lips and your tongue and since it poured on the carpet I could smell it. I won’t lie, it felt good. I thought I was going into a frenzy.” She shook her head trying to shake the memory out of her head.
    “Why didn’t you say something?” he scowled.
    “Because, at that moment you needed me much more than my addiction did.” She watched him as he stiffened, then combed his fingers through his shaggy hair. He looked guilty. “We all have some demon we are fighting against. I’m winning my fight, and you seemed to have won yours. But it’s all a process.”
    “Let me guess, life is a marathon not a sprint.” He chuckled.
    “I guess.”
    Antonio clasped her upper arms and their mouths locked in an erotic sparring dance. The taste of him was Rayne’s new addiction, but she fought against the warning bells telling her that he was just using her to forget. She desperately wanted to believe his profession of love, but she needed to be careful—for Alessandria’s sake. Her body arched toward his when his hands snaked under her t-shirt and caressed her back. When she felt his desire press against her thigh, she knew it was time to break it off.
    Her attempt of withdrawing was met by a discouraging moan, and Antonio only held her tighter. His mouth started along her neck, his lips caressing the pulse point in her throat, gently brushing her exposed skin.
    “We are not going to have sex in a hospital.”
    “I own the hospital.” His lips slanted in a devilish grin.
    “I heard.”
    “Mr. Burke—” A wide eyed nurse stared at them.
    “What is it?” Antonio’s gruff voice filled the air.
    “Alessandria is awake and she’s asking for her mother. I didn’t