Free Edge of Desire by Rhyannon Byrd Page B

her bed, the fierce intensity of his expression somehow intimate and personal, as if he were looking into secret parts of her heart. That was how it felt as he stood there in her private space, her chest painfully tight while he stared with a quiet absorption at the virginal-looking four-poster bed. Hope had never slept there with a man. In truth, she’d never been with any man but her worthless ex, and Neal had left such a bad taste in her mouth, she’dsimply lacked the desire to seek out another sexual relationship. She’d thought Neal had probably killed that part of her, but that theory had been annihilated the instant Riley Buchanan had walked back into her life.
    And watching the devastatingly sexy sheriff stare at her bed only confirmed that fact, her body going deliciously warm at the thought of falling onto the snowy expanse of white lace with him, his hard, heavy weight pressing her into the thick feather comforter. Sinking her teeth into her lower lip, she lifted her gaze, and found herself trapped. Not by a physical touch or restraints, but by deep, piercing blue that had always held the power to make her feel wild. Desperate. Out of control. She’d been too innocent to know how to act on those primal, carnal impulses when she’d known him before, but not anymore. If she were brave, she would have simply thrown herself at him. Tackled him onto that mountainous bounty of white linen and lace, his dark, muscular body in stark contrast against the virginal white, and have had her wicked way with him. Peel the T-shirt and open flannel from his broad shoulders, and run her hands over the hard, flat shelf of his chest…his stomach, soaking in the heat of his skin, the breathtaking power of heavy muscle and sinew.
    But she wasn’t brave enough. There was too much fear inside her. Fear that he’d reject her. Turn away from her. Or worse, laugh at her desperate attempt at seduction. She wasn’t a fiery femme fatale. She was just pudgy little Hope, with the cartload of shattereddreams, foolishly wishing for things she was never going to have.
    Stop feeling sorry for yourself, because you sound pathetic, a waspish voice snapped inside her mind, and she took a deep breath, knowing that voice was right. Yes, she’d lost the most precious things in her life, but there were still wonders to be seen. She knew that. She might have been broken and scraped and scarred inside, but she could still look out at the world and let the bitterness soften to a dull, gnawing ache when she saw that some dreams survived. Despite everything that she’d been through, she still believed in the miracle. Love. Beauty. Warmth and family. It just…it just wasn’t meant to be hers, and that, she thought, trying to choke down the trembling knot of emotion in her throat, hurt worse than not believing in anything at all.
    Shivering, she tried to look away from the raw, naked hunger in Riley’s eyes, but she couldn’t. Her mouth quivered, and she lifted her hand, once again covering her lips with her cold fingers. His dark gaze narrowed, and then he suddenly set the coffee mug on her dressing table and took a step toward her, while the soft sound of Kellan whistling to himself in Millie’s bedroom was drowned out by the roaring surge of her pulse in her ears. Riley had a certain look about him, one of purpose and intent, and Hope trembled, wondering if he was actually going to kiss her. And no idea what she would do if he did. Slap him? Kiss him back? Or dissolve into a puddle of emotional overload and completely fall apart?
    The air in the room went thick, like a physical thing against her skin, and something dangerous flared up between them, electric and sharp, jarring her with its force. Riley just kept coming across the room, drawing nearer, his expression set in fierce, determined lines. His nostrils flared as he pulled in her scent, so close now that she could see the pattern of sexy stubble that covered his jaw, see the flecks of navy