Free The Longing by Wendy Lindstrom Page B

caused him or the guilt she was
suffering for kicking him.
    Minutes passed while Kyle sat stiff and
silent. Unable to offer comfort, Amelia knelt before him and
removed the cloth from his leg. She soaked it with cold water then
pinned it back in place. When she stood to freshen the towel on his
face, Kyle captured her wrist. Startled, she glanced down and found
herself gazing into a pair of hurting, earth-colored eyes.
    “I'm sorry I acted like a jackass,” he said
quietly.
    Amelia couldn't have been more shocked by his
apology if he’d said he would pay off her debts and marry her to
boot. “You're sorry? I kicked you, remember?”
    “Vividly. But I prompted the action, and for
that, I apologize.”
    It disconcerted her to stand so close while
he shrewdly assessed her from beneath those long, dark lashes. “Why
are you looking at me like that?”
    “I'm waiting to see if you're going to faint
on me again.” Despite his obvious pain, his lips quirked and made
her heart ache.
    “I thought you might do the same a moment
ago.” Her shoulders sagged. “Your leg looks awful. Shouldn't you
see the doctor again, just to make sure it's all right?”
    “Is that concern from the lady who just
kicked me?”
    Amelia lowered her lashes and leaned over to
change the cloth on his forehead. “I forgot about your shin.”
    “I shouldn’t have grabbed you.” He gently
lifted her wrist to inspect it. “I’m sorry I hurt you.” Her eyes
met his. “And I’m sorry I offended you the day I said I wasn’t
interested in marriage. It wasn’t meant as a reflection on you,
Amelia.”
    She flushed over his unexpected apology. “The
way I dress, I wouldn’t expect any man to be interested in me.”
    He looked at her as if she were crazy. “You
could be dressed in rags and men would still be interested.”
    Unable to speak past the thrilling sensation
in her chest, Amelia ducked her head. Her hair slipped forward over
her shoulder and she reached up to brush it back, but Kyle stopped
her hand. Their eyes met, his gaze intimate and heated as he drew
her forward and kissed her.
     
     

Chapter Eight
    Kyle knew the
moment his lips touched Amelia's that he'd made a colossal mistake.
Every cell in his body exploded with unadulterated lust. He hadn’t
meant to kiss her, didn’t even know how or why it had happened.
He’d tried to warn himself of the disastrous results in that split
second before their lips met, but no force on earth could have kept
him from responding to the answering touch of Amelia’s tongue upon
his own.
    Before he could force himself to break away,
she sank onto his lap and draped her arms around his neck, drawing
him deeper into the kiss. Kyle was lost. He lingered, savored,
floated in the euphoric thrill that shot through his body. Like the
one and only time he’d ever kissed Amelia, nothing existed but her.
Her mouth. The feel of her hands in his hair. As if the rest of his
world had gone black, Amelia became that pinpoint of light that
drew Kyle forward, that beckoned him to reach, to touch, to bask in
the warmth of her soft yellow glow.
    He started to lay her back on the bed and
lose himself in her touch, but streaks of pain ripped up his leg
and made his fists clench. Reluctantly, he ended the kiss and
sucked in a mind-clearing gulp of air.
    Amelia's eyes opened, lazy and dazed as she
stared up at him. Kyle struggled to control the combination of pain
and lust rampaging through his body. As the sharp ache in his leg
slowly abated, he stared at Amelia, wondering how the hell a
schoolteacher had learned to kiss a man like she’d been making love
with him for years.
    Realizing their awkward situation, yet having
no idea how to gracefully extricate himself, Kyle discreetly eased
his hand off her hip. “My shin isn’t appreciating our
position.”
    A quizzical expression crossed her face, then
her eyes widened with understanding. “Oh!” Her palms hit his chest
and she shoved herself off his lap. In a