She could recall every detail even in her waking moments. The strangeness of the images never failed to alarm her. What would they think if they knew about the dream that returned to plague her so many nights? She would never tell a soul about it. It was a moment of madness, too personal to confide in anyone.
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She could recall every detail even in her waking moments. The strangeness of the images never failed to alarm her. What would they think if they knew about the dream that returned to plague her so many nights? She would never tell a soul about it.
It was a moment of madness, too personal to confide in anyone. Her body was relaxed in slumber. Gradually she seemed to awaken, realizing that someone else was in the room, circling the bed with quiet steps. She kept her eyes closed, but her heart started to beat fast and strong. Then there was no movement in the silence, and she held her breath as she waited for a touch, a sound, a whisper.
She tried to roll away from him, but he stopped her, pressing her back into the pillows. A heady masculine scent filled her nostrils, and she was gathered in hard-muscled arms, pinned underneath him, filled with his warmth. His hands swept over her skin, circling her breasts, slipping between her thighs, and as he touched her she writhed, burning with pleasure. She begged him to stop, but he laughed softly and kept tormenting her. Then blinding desire coursed through her, and she wrapped her arms around him, drawing him closer, wanting him desperately.
No words were exchanged between them as he made love to her, his body surging over hers like a slow, pounding surf. Then the dream changed. It was an old man, his face concealed by the shadows. He even knew her name. Adeline, where have you been? It was then that Addie always woke up, perspiring and breathless. It was so vivid. It always did. Sitting up slowly, Addie wiped her forehead with the corner of the sheet and swung her legs over the side of the bed.
Her head was spinning. Although she was quiet, she must have awakened Leah, who was a light sleeper. I only dream about things I know. They made an odd pair, a maiden aunt and her twenty-year-old niece.
Addie was a modem young woman who could drive an automobile and bring home a paycheck. Addie knew what it was like to work. And she knew, as her friends did, not to trust in the future. To wait, save, and hope for better things was naive.
To believe in nothing was the only way to be safe from disillusionment. Women smoked as much as they pleased in public, and passed around flasks of strong drink under the table. They kicked their legs high as they danced the Charleston, and used rough language that once would have caused any man to blush. It was fun to be young and frivolous, fun to go to movies, listen to jazz, park in their shiny black Fords and flirt and tease their boyfriends long past midnight.
They were a hard-bitten lot, but Leah took comfort in the fact that her niece was less brittle than the rest of her friends. But a hard life had taught Addie bitter lessons that had softened her pride and gentled her spirit, turning her willfulness into an inner core of steel. Leah needed her more than anyone else. The tune on the radio changed to "Blue Skies," and Addie sang along with the chorus. People standing on street corners with nothing to do except chin-wag. This afternoon the line at the unemployment relief station is all the way down to the barbershop.
He looks like one of those old drovers—heavy beard, long hair, and kind of a weather-beaten face. She was paler than usual and strangely listless. During the past few months her perfectly white hair had lost its brilliance, her dark-eyed liveliness had all but vanished, leaving behind a mixture of resignation and peace.
Nothing strange about that. It gave me the strangest feeling, all creepy inside. And he must have been around seventy or eighty years old! You know that. Haskin had said it was all right for her to take a dose whenever necessary. Now every hour of her day was punctuated with a spoonful of opiated syrup. For all its charm, her face was not spectacular.
Her cheekbones were blunt and her jawline too pronounced. However, she gave the impression of striking beauty. Jealous women could point out the flaws in her looks, but most men considered her to be nothing less than perfect.
Addie set the spoon down on the bedside table and eyed the high stack of sensational novels filled with stories of helpless maidens, daring deeds, and villains foiled by conquering heroes. Until the cancer had struck she had been the most active and independent woman in Sunrise.
The idea of marriage, or any other claim on her freedom, had never tempted her. But she admitted it had been a blessing in disguise when Addie had come to live with her. Now at the age of sixty, Leah seemed happy as a spinster. Addie was the only family she needed.
She had inherited the strength and backbone of the Warner family, which had risen to greatness and fallen into decay long before Addie was born. The Warners had founded the town of Sunrise near an overland trail that was eventually replaced by miles of railroad track. Texas cattle had stamped out that trail, tough, hardy longhorns with square faces and eyes that glittered with the fire and meanness of the Mexican fighting bulls they had descended from.
Twice a year the longhorns were driven up north on long trail drives to Kansas, Missouri, and Montana. But in spite of the hardships, there was freedom in the life they had chosen, and an irresistible challenge in taming the longhorns and the land they rode.
Now the time of cattle barons and their huge cattle outfits was over. The range was no longer free and open, it was fenced into barbed-wire pens. Everyone had a little piece of Texas.
The cowboys, the life and spirit of the old system, had drifted west, or turned into homesteaders, or even turned to rustling. Old men with no place to rest.
Real green, not just muddy hazel. Did anyone mention his name? Everyone was whispering about him. I think someone said his name was Hunter. After all this time. After fifty years. I wonder what for. Did you know him? No wonder. And the Warner family all split up and moved away. Who would have dreamed it back then? Leah downed the powder and a few sips of water, then clasped the glass with trembling hands. How did you know him? The one who killed your great-grandfather Russell.
And if that old man you saw today really was Ben Hunter, then it seems he was never caught. I guess. Maybe some old woman would want him. Was he handsome when he was younger? He was something else. Charming when he wanted to be, smart as a whip.
Russell made him foreman just a week or two after he came here. But after he arrived, things went sour.
Give Me Tonight(3) by Lisa Kleypas
Shelves: harlequin , guilty-pleasure , books-i-read-with-red-wine , fiction , historical , relationships , romance , time-travel , books-i-read-with-hot-tea , pausing-my-feminist-brain This review has been hidden because it contains spoilers. To view it, click here. Disclaimer: One of my guilty pleasures are "Harlequin" novels. It relaxes me.
Give Me Tonight
LaVonne Hampton Billie Jones Lost, yesterday, somewhere between sunrise and sunset, two golden hours, each set with sixty diamond minutes. No reward is offered, for they are gone forever. She could recall every detail even in her waking moments. The strangeness of the images never failed to alarm her. What would they think if they knew about the dream that returned to plague her so many nights? She would never tell a soul about it. It was a moment of madness, too personal to confide in anyone.
[PDF] Give Me Tonight Book by Lisa Kleypas Free Download (383 pages)
Leah seemed fascinated. Go wait in the buggy. She looked at Addie and Jeff with a touch of fear and went slowly to the buggy. He finally had to stop when you started siphoning off his cattle and pushing your boundaries deeper into his property. But there was no lightness in his voice, no smile in his eyes. He was going to carry out the plans they had made, and he would destroy everything she loved, everything she wanted. Everything she had once been indifferent to.