Shadows of the Past Read Online Free Page A

discuss our research with Randy?”
    Maria shook her head. So far, her only contact with Randy had been that day when he’d said he’d driven into the city specially to deliver the data to her at the research library. Heaven only knows what she’d done to spark off his need to stalk her.
    “Good. This project is my baby, my idea. The research you’re doing has saved us a lot of time but you understand, with its military applications, secrecy is vital.” He huffed out a breath. “But of course you do. The only reason Tech-Re-Search got the contract was because of its security clearance.”
    “I hope your project succeeds.” From the light in his eyes, and the determined thrust of his chin, she couldn’t imagine him failing.
    “You were right. This isn’t the place to discuss it. One day, you can come see what we’ve done for yourself.”
    “I’d like that.” Suddenly her mind was grasping at straws. Hoping her fairy tale wouldn’t end with the ball. She had no illusions about forever, but even a little while would be nice.
    Better than nice. Wonderful.
    She allowed herself to hope.
    Tomorrow, she’d start a new chapter in her personal journal.
     

    Franc pushed out a long whisper of air. Spaced each breath, to slow his heart rate. He wanted her to himself away from the crowded dance floor. “Let’s go out to the courtyard and dance in the dark. The stars are out. Do you know where to find the Southern Cross?” Next moment he heard Brent announce, “Last dance, folks, make the most of it.”
    “I should have thought of it earlier.” Disappointment rocked him with intensity as he anticipated her departure. But he’d no time for soul-searching as nearly everyone squeezed onto the floor and space was at a premium.
    The lights went out.
    With Maria in his arms he stayed in the middle of the crowd, swaying slowly, feet barely moving. The slippery texture of her dress flowed like water under his palm. He let them drift lower until they slipped round the soft swell of her buttocks. He wanted to shape her curves with his hands, to pull her closer and rock her in the cradle of his hips.
    He consoled himself with drinking in her perfume, brushing his cheek against the tiny whispers of curls escaping round her hairline. He had an ache in his groin hard enough to make a grown man cry. His teeth clamped down on a groan as her palms flattened against his chest and her head rested on them. Close, but not close enough.
    He hoped the dance would never end. They circled one tiny spot on the floor in what felt like a dream, and in the dark no one existed but the two of them. His hard flesh throbbed and flexed unbearably against her hip. He wanted more than this tease. He wanted to be inside her, thrusting deep and fast till they both screamed their release.
    His moan dampened her skin where the curve of her neck met jaw. Damn, I’m thirty-four, too old for this, too old to be worrying about Maria knowing I want her. The hell with it! His palms shivered over the silky fabric and curved round her slender shape, drawing her tight against his aching need just as the music stopped.
    The song finished, ending the dance, ending the closeness. Maria didn’t move, couldn’t move. A fire blazed inside her, leaping the barrier of clothing to meld her to him. Could he feel her shake? If he moved would she fall? She hid behind closed eyes. It didn’t mask the sound of people wishing each other Happy Christmas or good-night. Franc’s lips skimmed her forehead as his hands loosened their grip, leaving her bereft.
    “Merry Christmas, Maria,” he whispered.
    It was over. Time to go home.
    The gruff timbre of his voice echoed in her tremors. Tilting her chin with one large hand, he sought an answer in her eyes. The pad of his thumb stroked her bottom lip and released a sigh. In that instant she changed her mind about the color of his eyes. Not bitter chocolate, bittersweet. Like the moment binding them. She wanted to remember this.