Free Sullivan's Woman by Nora Roberts

“He looks like a pirate, all dashing and dangerous with the most incredible blue eyes I’ve ever seen. And his hands are beautiful. There’s no other word for them; they’re perfectly beautiful.”
    Her voice softened, and her eyes began to dream. “He exudes a thoughtless sort of sensuality. It seems more obvious when he’s working. I suppose it’s because he’s being driven by his own power then, and is somehow separate from the rest of us. He tells me to talk, and I talk about whatever comes into my head.” She moved her shoulders, then rested her chin on her knees. “But I don’t know if he hears me. He has a dreadful temper, and when he rages his speech slips back to Ireland. It’s almost worth the storm to hear it. He’s outrageously selfish and unbearably arrogant and utterly charming. Each time I’m with him I find a bit more, uncover another layer, and yet I doubt I’d really know him if I had years to learn.”
    There was silence for a moment, with only Jeff’s music. “You’re really hung up on him,” he observed.
    Cassidy snapped back with a jolt. Her violet eyes widened in surprise as she straightened in the chair. “Why, no, of course not. I’m simply . . . simply . . .”
Simply what, Cassidy?
she demanded of herself. “Simply interested in what makes him the way he is,” she answered and hugged her knees. “That’s all.”
    â€œOkay, babe, you know best.” Jeff stood in an easy fluid motion, the guitar merely an extension of his arm. “Just watch out.” He smiled, leaned over and cupped her chin. “He might be a great artist, but if the gossip columns are to be believed, he’s very much a man, too. You’re a fine-looking lady, and you might as well be fresh from the farm.”
    â€œI’d hardly call four years at Berkeley fresh from the farm,” Cassidy countered.
    â€œOnly someone utterly naive could evade every pass I make and still make me like her.” Jeff closed the distance and gave her a gentle invitation of a kiss. It was as pleasant and as soothing as his music. Cassidy’s heartbeat stayed steady. “No dice, huh?” he asked when he lifted his head. “Think of the rent we could save if we moved in together.”
    Cassidy tugged on his beard. “You’re only lusting after my refrigerator.”
    â€œA lot you know,” he scoffed and headed for the door. “I’m going home to write something painfully sad and poignant.”
    â€œGood grief, I’m always inspiring someone these days.”
    â€œDon’t get cocky,” Jeff advised, then closed the door behind him.
    Cassidy’s smile faded as she stared off into space.
Hung up on
, she repeated mentally.
What a silly phrase. In any case, I’m not hung up on Colin. Can’t a woman express an interest in a man without someone reading more into it?
Thoughtfully she ran her fingertip over her bottom lip and brought back the feel of Jeff’s kiss. Easy, undisturbing, painless. What sort of chemistry made one man’s kiss pleasant and another’s exhilarating? The smart woman would go for the pleasant, Cassidy decided, knowing Jeff would be basically kind and gentle. Only an idiot would want a man who was bound to bring hurt and heartache.
    With a quick shake of her head she swung back to her typewriter and began to work. Her fingers had barely begun to transfer her thoughts when a knock sounded again. Cassidy rolled her eyes to the ceiling.
    â€œYou can’t possibly be finished writing a painfully sad and poignant song,” she called out and continued to type. “And the beer certainly isn’t cold yet.”
    â€œI can’t argue with either of those statements.”
    Cassidy spun her chair quickly and stared at Colin. He stood in her opened doorway, negligently leaning against the jamb and watching her.