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“Good Lord, River!” She slammed a hand over her heart to keep it from leaping out of her chest. “You scared the daylights out of me.”
River, with his big, hard, gorgeous body clad only in a pair of jeans unbuttoned at the top, stood in the doorway to the office, his arms crossed over his bare chest and a frown creasing his sexy brow.
“This is a private office, Jeanette,” he said, his voice soft. Too s
oft. “You know that.”
Jeanette felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment. Caught red-handed, she held up the paper and said, “Dead Eyes is terrific. But then all your stories are. Care to give me your autograph?”
“That’s it?” River rolled his eyes. “You break into my office and rifle through my private things, and you ask for my autograph?”
She placed the paper carefully back onto the stack. “I sort of thought that maybe the ban on this room was lifted considering the new level of our relationship.” She started to step away from the desk, but the paperweight caught her eye once more. The tiny little figure imbedded inside the heavy glass intrigued her. “So, what’s a big, manly guy like you doing with a paperweight with a blue fairy imbedded inside?”
River sighed and stepped away from the door. He came within a foot of her, plucked the trinket out of her hand and replaced it on the stack of papers. When his gaze landed on hers, he said, “Mom bought it for me. She said it would remind me not to take life too seriously.”
“Oh.” Jeanette felt silly. “Does she know about your writing?”
“Yes, but she’s the only one.” He tapped her nose. “And I’d like to keep it that way.”
Jeanette nodded, feeling unaccountably happy that she was privy to something so private. “Of course, but why?”
“Because it’s just something I do for me. The way some people might paint or write poetry. It’s a way for me to…express myself. To relieve pent-up stress or whatever you want to call it.”
“I know I’m butting in here, but it just seems like everyone would be so proud of you. Especially your brothers.” She paused, then asked, “Does your writing help with the nightmares?”
He stiffened a fraction, but he didn’t shut her out. Jeanette took it as a positive sign. “Yes. The stories of suspense and intrigue are my way of dealing with the things that have happened to me in the past. Each time I kill off the bad guy or send him to prison, it feels…good. And even though my brothers would support my writing, it’s just not something I’m ready to share. Maybe someday, but not yet.”
Jeanette cupped his jaw in her palm. “Well, I think you’re awesome. Not everyone could pen a tale the way you do. You always have me guessing until the very end.”
He took hold of her hand and kissed the palm. “Would you like to go with me later today? I had planned to go to a shooting range. I need to do some research for Dead Eyes. I need to see how far away my villain can accurately shoot his victim with a 7mm rifle.”
Guns? “Since when do you own a rifle?”
“It belongs to a friend,” he said as he walked them backward. “He’s a gun collector, and he’s been kind enough to let me borrow it. Unfortunately, he leaves for London tomorrow, so I only have the rifle for today.”
“I’d love to go with you.” His private life as an author fascinated her. “Do you always test out the things you write about in your stories?”
He lifted her into the air and placed her on the edge of the desk. “Whenever possible, yes,” he said as he smoothed her hair behind her ear. “I like to get a feel for it, so I can write the scene properly. Writing involves all the senses, and if I’ve never shot a rifle, then I can’t accurately set the scene for the reader.”
“You’re enthusiasm for your writing is a lot like the way I feel about law school. It’s tough but rewarding.”
“Your parents would be proud of you,” he said, a smile curving his lips. “I know I am.”
Funny, no one had ever been much interested in her coursework before. Most of the men she dated were too full of themselves to care. “Thank you. I just wish Mom and Dad were still here to see how far I’ve come.”
He kissed her on the forehead. “I think they’re looking down on you and thinking just how amazing you are.”
“I hope so.” Jeanette went breathless when she heard the praise in River’s sexy voice. That it came from him meant the world to her. The feel of him so close sent a blast of heat through her body, and soon she was losing the thread of the conversation.
River bent down and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Now, enough about all that. Let’s get you back to bed, shall we?”
And just that fast, Jeanette melted.
River took Jeanette back to bed. He locked his gaze with hers and slowly undressed her before lying down next to her. “I missed you.” He lowered his head and kissed her soft lips.
“Well, I’m right here,” she murmured against his mouth.
“Yeah,” he groaned. “In my bed where you belong.” He moved down her body, then gently kissed her between the legs. She moaned beautifully for him. River lifted off her completely, knowing that she stared at his every movement, her anxious expression cutting through his haze of lust the way nothing else could.
