Sitting there in the muted lamplight, she looked heart–stoppingly beautiful. Somewhere along the way, her small and slender figure had transformed into a tight and sleek little package that he was just waiting to unwrap.“I hope you didn’t make supper,” Rye said shifting on his feet when she didn’t glance over. “I couldn’t have eaten anything.”She placed one of her Africa books on the coffee table and removed her glasses. “I didn’t think so. I wasn’t hungry either.”Yeah, he’d wondered how she was feeling, but he’d been too raw to call her. He sank wearily onto the couch next to her. “I’m sorry. The only appetite my family should affect is mine.”It seemed natural when she rested her head on his shoulder.“I couldn’t help but be affected. Where were you? I was worried.”Her presence soothed the angry, reckless energy that had been running through his body all afternoon. Rye wrapped his arm around her and tucked her close. He wouldn’t analyze why she felt so good against him.
