A Year of You by A. D. Roland

pacifier necklace, proved her a liar.

    “What about your parents?”

    “I was raised by a woman that used to work for the McKendricks. We never really had a bond. She dumped me as soon as she could. Last I heard, she’d died in a car accident.”
    “What do you mean?”
From the expression on her face, Mattie realized she’d told him too much. West latched on tothat.
    “Tell me, Mattie. What do you mean?”
She wouldn’t look at him.
    “Nothing.”

    “Uh huh. Talk. Did they know? Did whoever it was kidnap up?” His mind tried to wrap around it. Could it be possible that she was Elaine? If Ruth Ellen or James McKendrick were behind the child’s disappearance, it would be a revelation that would change lives. Suppose one of them had sent the kid away with a servant.
    Why, though?
Money, obviously, but what were the specific reasons behind it?
Suddenly it changed everything. The Navigator seemed to swirl around him as he absorbed the idea that Elaine might not be dead.
The woman next to him, the woman that looked hauntingly like Ruth Ellen, might be his lost Elaine.

    “Look, West, there’s a lot more going on than you think you know. You look disappointed. Are you still trying to catch me in a lie?” Quick as a second strike of lightning, she pinched and twisted his other nipple.
Shocked, theories lost in the shard of pain and wave of desire that jolted through him, he yelped and clasped the wounded body part.
    “Holy crap, you gotta stop that!” He kept both hands clasped over his chest, shielding his sensitive little nipples. “You are rough, woman.”
    She slugged him in the arm, a defiant light in her eyes. “I am not.”
    West grabbed her by the thigh and dragged her across the seat so fast she cried out. Putting his full weight on her body, he began to tickle her furiously, until she was shrieking in gaspy bursts between breathless giggles.
    Leaning close to her face, he warned her, trying his best to keep a straight face, “Don’t ever pinch my nipples again.” He dug into her ribs with his fingers, knowing he was going to end up leaving bruises.
    For some reason, the thought excited him. Not because it was hurting her, but because she’d let him do it. Her hands squirmed against his chest, trying to rise high enough to pinch him again, or something. She was biting her bottom lip hard, staring at him with a weird little smile tugging at her lips. He couldn’t escape the intensity of her eyes.
    A thought that sounded so ridiculous to him sprouted in his head. I want to possess her.
    He wanted this woman. He wanted to own her. West ground his teeth and shoved that part of his mind aside. Emeline hated it when he got like that.
    But Mattie seemed to like it. She squirmed under him, repositioning herself so that he could hold her down more comfortably. What the heck? She...liked that? Heat flared in him, a match in the blackness. Liberated, if only for a second, he held still. Her hands moved up his side, flattened against his chest. Her fingers splayed wide over his wounded nipples. Her right leg, trapped under his, moved sideways, off the seat, so that he rested between her legs.
    That thin skirt she wore and his jeans were the only things separating them. Did she wear panties? Thongs? Maybe she was commando. Nah, Mattie wasn’t the type for that.
    She released her bottom lip, and her pink tongue flicked out to moisten the soft flesh.
Before he knew what he was doing, he kissed her.
Intoxicating.
She was an aggressive kisser, her hand sliding into his hair and pulling him down to kiss her harder. Her lips parted further, inviting his tongue in to dance with hers. He wanted to taste her skin. Lost in the surprise of her kiss, he slipped his hand under her shirt. Everything about her kiss seemed familiar, like he’d done it a million times.
    He kissed across her jaw, around her ear, down her throat. His hand found her breast and gave it a hard squeeze. She squeaked against