Runaway Wife. Margaret Way
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brooding good looks. “I was getting terribly dull. Terribly set in my ways.”
“I wonder how long it will be before you’re ever that.”
“Laura Graham, you scare me.” Before he could help himself he had touched her cheek lightly with his finger. It had the velvety texture of a magnolia.
For a moment they stared into one another’s eyes. Laura felt oddly as if the air might explode.
“Well, come on,” he said, making a brisk return to the role of big brother. “We really should visit the general store. You’ll be needing a few pots and pans, though you don’t look like you eat a whole lot.”
“Don’t go thinking I have eating problems,” she chided him.
“So why the feather weight?”
He spoke lightly, but she couldn’t help herself going tense. “I don’t know really. It’s not easy to eat sometimes.”
“When you’re unhappy and you’re sleeping badly?” His dark eyes rested on her for a second.
“I’m going to deal with it.”
“Good girl,” he said quietly.
Together they began to walk back along the aisle. Laura felt so drawn to him, but she had no doubts that before he’d come to Koomera Crossing he’d been someone very different. He’d lived a high-powered life, running on adrenaline. Perhaps even in personal danger.
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