Memories of Love Read Online Free Page A

don’t share your problems with me. What are the memories that you can’t get rid of?”
    “Men dying. Friends dying,” he said.
    She jerked her head back and looked up at him.
    “I hear screams and moans. I see the bodies of dead children.”
    She shuddered and wrapped her arms around him.
    “My memories are nightmares and they’ll be with me forever. You don’t need to share them.”
    “You’re a macho idiot,” she told him bluntly. “You need to share them with someone. They’re part of you.”
    “But they don’t fit in civilian life. Look at my hands.” He released her suddenly. “I’ve killed a man with these hands.”
    She flinched at the raw note in his voice.
    “See,” he said, fiercely satisfied. “You can’t bear for me to touch you.”
    She caught his left hand and carried it to her mouth, kissing the palm. Her mouth lingered.
    He made a sound as if she’d stabbed him, then grabbed her roughly and his mouth replaced his palm.
    Their kiss was hot and harsh and howling with hunger. She pressed into him, all the emotion of her loss and grief transformed into stark need. She had wanted him for so long—ever since she saw him standing by his desk, waiting to interview her. Commonsense had insisted she suppress the need, but now it burned out of control. She could regret everything later.
    She scraped her nails down his back, feeling his skin shiver beneath the fine cotton shirt. She moaned and rose on tiptoe as his tongue invaded her mouth. She sucked and his hands moved down her back to dig into her butt, pulling her in. They both liked that sensation, shuddering in unison. He swung her round, backed her into the glass door of the balcony and thrust against her.
    “Yes. Ivan.” Her voice was slurred and aching as he dragged his mouth down her arched throat. She curled her foot around his calf, then gasped approval as he lifted her and she could wrap both legs around him.
    His strength held her against the glass, freeing his hands to slide under her t shirt, warmly over her belly and up to close over her breasts.
    “Kiss me. Kiss me.” She was frantic for his mouth which was tantalising her with nips and licks along the line of her jaw. She framed his face and held him steady so she could greedily claim his mouth.
    He growled approval and pushed his hands inside her bra. The straps cut into her shoulders and the pain was spice to the heated pleasure of his calloused palms playing over her nipples.
    It was good, so good.
    “Hold tight.”
    She wrapped her arms around his neck as he stepped back from the door. He carried her inside, his body shifting between her thighs with every step.
    “Freakin’ torture.” He kissed her hard.
    Whether punishment or incitement, she didn’t care. She responded recklessly.
    “I could take you on the kitchen bench.”
    She wouldn’t stop him.
    They made it through the kitchen, but he halted shockingly just opposite the open door to the guest room.
    “Ivan.” She kissed him, pleading, not wanting to recognise the stillness in him.
    His mouth set stern and he looked at her.
    She took a shaky breath, not knowing how or why the mood had changed; not wanting to believe it had.
    “You bought a suitcase.”
    “For my new clothes.”
    “Hell damn.” He set her on the floor, a full arms length from him, holding her till she was steady.
    “Ivan?” Her voice was small and broken. It shamed her.
    “I can’t take advantage of you, Rita. You’re here because you lost everything yesterday. You’re vulnerable.” He reached out to touch her face, but she flinched away.
    His hand dropped. “I’m sorry.”
    She slipped by him, into the room, and hugged her arms around herself. “Me, too.”
    Emotion flickered across his face, and was banished. “You need a safe place. Not me being a Neanderthal.”
    “You know what I need, Ivan? My own place.” She shut the door on him.

Chapter 4
    “I am not vulnerable.” Rita finished smoothing on the all-in-one tinted