By Linda Howard
He was once the main attention-grabbing guy she'd ever met . . . Claire Westerbrook stumbled on it demanding to think that Max Conroy was once actually attracted to her. Then she came upon he wasn't -- he simply sought after information regarding her boss. Max was once learning her corporation for a takeover and had made up our minds the fastest option to make it ensue used to be via her. Now Claire desires not anything to do with a guy who may perhaps lie to her with so little regret. yet Max isn't really leaving Houston with no buying every thing he desires. And that incorporates Claire . . .
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Additional resources for Almost Forever
He eased Claire down on the couch, stretching her out full-length on her stomach. " she asked, her eyes widening. "Just rubbing your back," he said, keeping his voice low and soothing. He used the strength of his hands to find the kinks left by tension, and silence fell between them, except for the gentle sound of Claire's sighs. Max noticed her eyelids drooping again, and a smile tugged at his chiseled lips. She was actually going to go to sleep on him; that had never happened to him before, at least not this early in the evening.
He wanted it out of the way so he could concentrate on Claire and discover more about the woman behind the defenses. He was becoming obsessed with her, and that knowledge irritated him, too, but he couldn't simply shrug it away. Her cool, distant manner attracted him even while it drove him mad with frustration. She had a habit of drifting away in her thoughts, those deep brown eyes revealing secrets that he couldn't read and she wouldn't share with him. His reaction to her confused him; he wanted to make love to her until all the shadows in her eyes were gone, until she burned for him, until she lay warm and helpless beneath him, her skin dewy from the heat and violence of his possession… and he wanted to protect her, from everything and everyone except himself.
I'm ready," she said, picking up her lemon-yellow garden hat. It matched her yellow-and-white striped sundress, which Martine had persuaded her to buy more than two years ago, insisting that the sunny color suited her. Claire had to admit that Martine's taste, as usual, was impeccable. She didn't wear the dress often, preferring more businesslike attire, but the morning was so bright and warm that nothing else had seemed suitable. He put his hand on her bare arm, his lean fingers gently curving around her elbow.
Almost Forever by Linda Howard