Chapter thirty-five

The novel was incredible.  Abbey couldn’t put it down and she was very grateful.  Even on paper Abbey found the hero of the book few desirable.  He was smooth, charismatic, sexy.  Abbey paused her reading.  The hero was a fictional form of Sloan.  Abbey sighed deeply.

She dove back into the book.  Her eyes still locked on every printed word as she sat forward on the couch.  She groped aimlessly for the mug while she kept reading bracing for the hot shock of the ceramic cup.

Abbey’s fingers wrapped around something smooth, soft and supple.  The tip where her thumb rested was cold and metallic.  Whatever she had in her hand it wasn’t her mug of decaf coffee.

Abbey looked up.  Sloan was sitting in the chair beside the sofa, his legs stretched out with his book covered feet resting crossed on the coffee table inches away from Abbey’s mug.  Sloan smiled lazily at her as she let go of the boot in her hand.

“Sloan, what are you doing here?” Abbey asked shocked.

“Watching you read.”

“How long have you been sitting there?”

Sloan pulled his arm free from his suit coat to look at his watch.  “About an hour now.”

Abbey stared at him with a quizzical look on her face.  Had she really been reading for over an hour?  So much for her hot coffee.

“I thought you went to the night club tonight.”  Abbey picked up her cup and took a sip.  It was still good cold.

“I did.  But I’d rather watch you read.”

“Really?”  Abbey shifted uncomfortably.

Sloan nodded.  “Go back to reading.”

“Sloan, I can’t read while you are watching me.”

Sloan’s ice blue eyes twinkled in amusement.  “Very well, then.”  He stood and crossed the basket beside the nearest bookshelf.  He returned with a box in his hand.

“What is that?” Abbey asked.

“Well, my beautiful author, you are a master wordsmith.  I am curious to see if I, a simple illustrator, am any match to your skill with words.”  Sloan set the Scrabble game on the coffee table between him and Abbey.

Abbey set the book beside her on the sofa and slowly sat up as Sloan lifted the box lid.  He laid the playing board out on the table then distributed the tiles between them.  With a sweep of his hand Sloan offered Abbey the first turn.

Sloan sat back in the armchair as he watched Abbey.  She bit her lower lip as she concentrated on making a word with her tiles.  He wanted to bite that lower lip.  He wanted to caress her soft brown hair.  He wanted to feel the warmth of her skin radiating through her flannel pajamas.

Abbey carefully laid out five tiles to spell “house”.  She sat back proudly.  “It isn’t much but it’s what I’ve got.  Your turn.”

Sloan laughed as he sat forward and sorted his tiles quickly.  What she had would always be what he’d want.


About triciaandersen

I am the author and illustrator of the children's book "The Peculiar Princess". I am also the author of two adult fantasy romance novels, "The Sorceress of Savon" and "The Woodcutter King of Muladin". Along with being an author I am married to a wonderful guy and have three beautiful children. I coach youth track and field, sew and chase my children around to their various activities.

Posted on June 12, 2012, in author, books, fiction, novel, romance, story, Uncategorized, writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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