And Then Came You Read Online Free

She’d wasted too many nights crying into her pillow over him. She’d buried her dreams, surrendered her innocence, and she wouldn’t go back. Not now. Not ever. Whatever he hadto say to her didn’t matter. He wasn’t a part of her life anymore. He was just . . . a life lesson learned. “Say what you came to say and then leave.”
    She hadn’t changed.
    Somehow, Jeff had expected . . . hell, he wasn’t even sure of that. But he
hadn’t
counted on taking one look at her and getting slammed in the chest with what felt like a hammer blow. He should have known this wouldn’t be easy. Nothing about Sam had ever been easy. That was part of her attraction all those years ago.
    Until Sam, no woman had ever refused him. Sounded cocky as hell to admit, but it was the simple truth. Some of those women had been more interested in his bank balance than him, but still. He’d never struck out with a woman until the first time Sam had said no to an invitation to dinner. And damned if her resistance hadn’t made her all the more appealing. They’d come together in a rush of heat and want and need and they’d convinced themselves it was love. But if it had been, it wouldn’t have burned out like it had, right?
    Yet here he was again, standing next to her, looking down into those same, pale blue eyes and feeling too damn much.
    Nine years was a long time. And God knew he had plenty of reason to resent Samantha Marconi—although he had one very good reason to be glad they’d been together, no matter how briefly. She stood there glaring at him, and damned if a part of him didn’t enjoy it. Her blue eyes flashed with sparks and the dementedpart of him found it both annoying and arousing.
    Her long, reddish-brown hair fell down her back from a clip at the nape of her neck. It looked as soft as ever and he was half-tempted to reach out and touch those tumbling curls, just to see. But he figured she’d take his hand off at the elbow in the attempt, so he let that one go.
    She wore curve-hugging jeans that were faded and decorated by splotches of dried paint in a rainbow of colors. Her dark blue T-shirt, proclaiming MARCONI CONSTRUCTION in faded white letters, fit her way too well and the toe of her heavy work boot tapped against the bricks like a clock ticking off the last remaining seconds before a bomb blast.
    Her blue eyes were wary and the jut of her chin told him that she hadn’t mellowed any over the years. Fine. Just as well.
    “Sam, there’s a problem.”
    “A big one as far as I’m concerned,” she said, folding her arms over her chest. “You’re here.”
    “Just as sweet as ever, I see.”
    “Why would I change?”
    “Dammit, do you always have to immediately go on the defensive?”
    “Hello? When being attacked, defending yourself is pretty much standard operating procedure.”
    “Who’s attacking?”
    “You.”
    “I haven’t said anything yet.” Stupid. He knew it was stupid and he still couldn’t stop himself. They were sliding right back into the same kind of arguments they used to have. The circular kind. Wherethere was no beginning and no end. It just was. Like mold on bread. It was a fact of life that defied description.
    “You’re here, aren’t you?”
    “To tell you something.”
    “Write me a letter.” She started past him for the house and he had to risk losing a hand by grabbing her arm again.
    “Dammit, Sam—”
    Her gaze fixed on his hand for a long minute, then she lifted it and looked directly into his eyes. “Move that hand or lose it.”
    He was desperate, not foolish. He released her. “We have to talk.”
    “We have nothing to say to each other.”
    “Wanna bet?” He was following her, his long legs keeping pace with her quicker steps.
    “We’re divorced,” she reminded him.
    “Wanna bet?” he asked.
    She stopped dead.
    At least he had her attention. He hadn’t planned on blurting out the truth like this, but trust Sam to make any conversation the beginning of World