Free Miss Lizzy's Legacy by Peggy Moreland Page A

hands still cupped at her buttocks, he lifted, inching her body up the length of his, until her toes cleared the floor. He held her against him, until the pounding of his blood eased in his ears, then slowly he crossed the short distance to the bed.
    He braced first one knee atop the mattress, then the other and bent until she lay beneath him, his lips still melded to hers. He slipped his hands from beneath her and slowly eased his weight down until he stretched across her length. Knotting his fingers in the mahogany hair puddled at her shoulders, he pulled his lips from hers, holding himself upright by digging his elbows in the mattress.
    He stared down into blue eyes glazed silver with passion for long seconds, searching for any sign of fear. When he didn’t find anything but amazement, a slow smile curved one corner of his mouth. “Am I forgiven now?”
    Callie closed her eyes. “Yes,” she whispered, sure that now that he’d gotten what he’d come for, he would leave, but not at all certain that was what she wanted him to do.
    â€œGood.” He lifted a finger to move a strand of hair away from her face. “You know, you throw quite a punch.”
    She opened her eyes, surprised to find he didn’t appear to be in any hurry to leave. “I beg your pardon?”
    â€œYour kiss. I had to check twice to make sure my lips hadn’t melted plumb off my face.”
    His comment was so unexpected, Callie sputtered a laugh, her breasts bobbing against his chest. “You throw quite a punch yourself.”
    â€œThat a fact?” He eased off her to lay at her side while he allowed his fingers to drift to her shirt’s top button. He felt the hitch in her breathing when his arm inadvertently rubbed across a turgid nipple. Rather than unbutton the button, he toyed with it, watching her chest rise and fall in increasing speed with each brush of his knuckles against her bare skin. Another time, he might have felt a swell of pleasure to know he affected a woman in such a way, but at the moment he was too busy trying to keep his hand from trembling to notice much else.
    A year. A long, lonesome year without the pleasure of a woman’s company, much less the release a man found with one. He shifted again, trying to ease the pressure building inside his jeans. He locked his hip when he heard the rustle of paper beneath him and the soft plop of something hitting the floor. He raised up to peer over the side of the bed.
    Headlines glared up at him from papers scattered on the floor. Judd Barker Arrested After Raping Fan.
    He doubled over as if he’d been shot. He clamped his hands over his face, blocking out the sight, but the images continued to slam at him. Flashing cameras, reporters shoving microphones under his nose, jeering faces. The humiliation, the pain...the loneliness.
    No, he roared inwardly. No! Dragging his hands down his face, he stumbled to his feet. His boots ground against the papers in his haste to escape the unwanted reminder.
    Without looking, Callie knew the cause of distress on Judd’s face. That she was responsible for it, made her heart wrench in her chest. She rolled to a sitting position, her hand outstretched, reaching for him. “Judd, please,” she begged. “I can explain.”
    He staggered to the door like a man wounded. “No. There’s no need.” He twisted open the door and, without looking back, said, “I’ll have a key made for the room you rented and leave it at the front desk with Frank.”
    * * *
    Afternoon sunshine warmed Judd’s back through the plate-glass window behind him and threw an irritating glare on the pages of the liquor inventory he worked on. He slapped a hand to the back of his neck and rubbed at the tensed muscles there. Between the sun and the noise drifting down from upstairs, he was having a hell of a time keeping his mind on his order.
    Judging by the amount of noise coming from above