Warm Hearts Read Online Free
Author: Barbara Delinsky
leg, erase her motherâs worries, ease the burden of pregnancy for Karen, or miraculously mend Carlâs marital wounds, she couldnât turn a deaf ear to their pleas.
She gave a great sigh, then a tiny moan. Her shift was quickly growing damp from perspiration. Leaning forward, she peeled the light fabric from her back, gave a lethargic twist, then returned to her position against the window frame. She straightened each leg in turn to wipe moisture from the creases behind her knees. Then, planting her feet flat and apart, she gathered the short hem of her shift and tucked it with some decorum between her legs.
One part of her wished sheâd taken Elliot up on his offer of air-conditioned solace, but the greater, saner part knew sheâd made the right decision. She and Elliot were on their last leg as a couple. He wanted sex; she didnât. If that little complication hadnât cropped up, they might have continued a while longer in a pleasant relationship. But it was only a matter of time before he pushed the issue too far. She would be as tactful as possible, but there was no way sheâd go to bed with him out of pity.
Breaking off was going to be awkward. Elliot happened to be the brother of one of her partners. Another little complication. And now Ben had popped back into the Washington scene, apparently willing to pick up where heâd left off. So she needed Elliot a while longer. But she hated to use him that way. She hated it.
With another soft moan, she shifted languidly on the window seat. Sweat trickled down her neck. She pushed it back up with a finger that tangled in loose tendrils of hair fallen from her ponytail. When the wisps fell right back down and clung damply to her nape, she left them alone. Closing her eyes, she tipped her head toward the night and raised the glass of tea to her neck in the hope that the condensation would cool her heated skin.
Then she opened her eyes and saw himâa stranger, far across the courtyard. He was sprawled on the tiny fire escape just beyond his own third-floor window. The night was dark, but the pale golden glow from his apartment outlined his shape, and she couldnât look away.
His hair was thick, spiked damply on his brow. His legs were long, lean and firm, bent at the knees and spread much like hers. He had large shoulders, one slightly lower than the other as he propped his weight on a hand. The other hand dangled over his knee, fingers circling what she assumed to be a beer can. Other than a pair of brief shorts, his body was bare.
Caroline had no idea who he was or where heâd come from. Though she knew her immediate neighbors, his row of town houses faced a different street. She wouldnât have passed him coming or going, and since she didnât own a car, she wouldnât have bumped into him in the courtyard.
Sheâd never seen anyone on the fire escape before, not that sheâd done a lot of looking. Only the heat had brought her to her window tonight; she wondered if it had been the same for him.
With fifty feet of night separating them, she couldnât see his face. But she wanted to. She wanted to see his eyes, or at least his expression, which would be telling. She imagined that he was every bit as hot as she was, and every bit as tired. Was he as frustrated with the little complications in life? Was he feeling the brunt of a million demands? Was he, too, wishing he could escape from it all for a time?
There were no answers to her questions, of course. He was an unknown, a man she had little likelihood of actually meeting. The pace of life in the capital kept people on the move and wasnât at all conducive to leisurely run-ins.
But he was at the right place at the right time. She needed an escape, an outlet for secret thoughts. Features softening in a shy and feminine way, she tipped her head a bit more and gave vent to her fantasies.
Heâd be tall. At five-seven, she needed a man who topped
She gave a great sigh, then a tiny moan. Her shift was quickly growing damp from perspiration. Leaning forward, she peeled the light fabric from her back, gave a lethargic twist, then returned to her position against the window frame. She straightened each leg in turn to wipe moisture from the creases behind her knees. Then, planting her feet flat and apart, she gathered the short hem of her shift and tucked it with some decorum between her legs.
One part of her wished sheâd taken Elliot up on his offer of air-conditioned solace, but the greater, saner part knew sheâd made the right decision. She and Elliot were on their last leg as a couple. He wanted sex; she didnât. If that little complication hadnât cropped up, they might have continued a while longer in a pleasant relationship. But it was only a matter of time before he pushed the issue too far. She would be as tactful as possible, but there was no way sheâd go to bed with him out of pity.
Breaking off was going to be awkward. Elliot happened to be the brother of one of her partners. Another little complication. And now Ben had popped back into the Washington scene, apparently willing to pick up where heâd left off. So she needed Elliot a while longer. But she hated to use him that way. She hated it.
With another soft moan, she shifted languidly on the window seat. Sweat trickled down her neck. She pushed it back up with a finger that tangled in loose tendrils of hair fallen from her ponytail. When the wisps fell right back down and clung damply to her nape, she left them alone. Closing her eyes, she tipped her head toward the night and raised the glass of tea to her neck in the hope that the condensation would cool her heated skin.
Then she opened her eyes and saw himâa stranger, far across the courtyard. He was sprawled on the tiny fire escape just beyond his own third-floor window. The night was dark, but the pale golden glow from his apartment outlined his shape, and she couldnât look away.
His hair was thick, spiked damply on his brow. His legs were long, lean and firm, bent at the knees and spread much like hers. He had large shoulders, one slightly lower than the other as he propped his weight on a hand. The other hand dangled over his knee, fingers circling what she assumed to be a beer can. Other than a pair of brief shorts, his body was bare.
Caroline had no idea who he was or where heâd come from. Though she knew her immediate neighbors, his row of town houses faced a different street. She wouldnât have passed him coming or going, and since she didnât own a car, she wouldnât have bumped into him in the courtyard.
Sheâd never seen anyone on the fire escape before, not that sheâd done a lot of looking. Only the heat had brought her to her window tonight; she wondered if it had been the same for him.
With fifty feet of night separating them, she couldnât see his face. But she wanted to. She wanted to see his eyes, or at least his expression, which would be telling. She imagined that he was every bit as hot as she was, and every bit as tired. Was he as frustrated with the little complications in life? Was he feeling the brunt of a million demands? Was he, too, wishing he could escape from it all for a time?
There were no answers to her questions, of course. He was an unknown, a man she had little likelihood of actually meeting. The pace of life in the capital kept people on the move and wasnât at all conducive to leisurely run-ins.
But he was at the right place at the right time. She needed an escape, an outlet for secret thoughts. Features softening in a shy and feminine way, she tipped her head a bit more and gave vent to her fantasies.
Heâd be tall. At five-seven, she needed a man who topped
Readers choose
Liz Stafford
Patricia Gaffney
Janet Rising
Martha Freeman
Sarah S.
Agatha Christie
John Jakes
Edmund Crispin
Sabrina Morgan
Karin Tanabe