Made in Nashville: HarperImpulse Contemporary Romance by Mandy Baggot Page B

written on her face. All her suffering, all the hard times she was still working through, everything she’d had to face since that maniac had attacked her. His heart was thumping so hard he could almost hear it outside of his body. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to put his hands on her and just hold her against him. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t do it.
    Her whole body was shaking. It was like she’d swallowed a whole family of moths and they were taking flight, bumping off her insides, making her quiver and setting off a whole chain reaction of emotions.
    Jared was stood so close she only had to move a centimeter towards him and they’d be touching. She could smell the heat from him, almost taste the adrenaline. His gray eyes were on fire but with what she wasn’t quite sure. Was that desire she could see there? Or was it pity? A look of consolation for all that she was and all that she had been. She wanted to know as much as she
didn’t
want to know.
    She moved one hand from her hip and lifted it slowly, afraid if she moved too quickly the tension would break. She wanted to touch him. That’s all she knew. She wanted to feel his skin under her fingers.
    The soft cotton of his vest melded with her fingers as inch by inch she traced a path from his abdomen up to his chest. The solid frame of his body was unmoved, apart from the slow and even rise and fall of his breath.
    ‘Honor.’
    The gravel in his voice made her raise her head to meet his gaze, her fingers continuing upwards, lingering over every defined muscle they encountered.
    She was too scared to reply. If she opened her mouth to speak, if she engaged with the situation she would withdraw. Right now she was caught someplace new, in the middle of a feeling she hadn’t experienced for so long. She didn’t understand it but she didn’t want it to stop.
    She brought her hand up to his face, touching her fingers to his lips. Her index finger whispered over his bottom lip before moving to graze the thin layer of stubble of his cheek.
    He balled his hands into fists and squeezed his fingertips into his palms. This was torture. He was the smallest fraction away from losing control and disrespecting her. Her touch was burning into him, igniting desire, forcing him to feel. She put a hand on the belt of his jeans, drawing her body towards him. His eyes locked with hers. She was an angel. Beautiful, pure – wounded, yes - but with an inner strength that had seen her through.
    He could see in her eyes that she wanted him and here he was, unable to react. His body was flaming with lust but his heart was on lock down and his head was telling him he would do nothing but hurt her. The very last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.
    He could feel her breath; see the longing written in her expression. Any other man would have kissed her by now, put their hands in her hair and worked her out of that shirt. Should he? Could he?
    Her heart was pacing so fast she could hear it in her head. She was just lost in his eyes, those deep, gray irises that seemed as if they were looking right inside her. He hadn’t moved. Not one inch. They were body to body, as close as two people could be and she was almost melting with need. This was Jed Marshall, just a name on a CD up until a week ago and now …  now he almost knew her better than anyone ever had.
    He raised his hand and she shifted, expectant, wanting to feel his skin on hers.
    Her fingers found the edge of his top, wound their way under the fabric until he caught her hand, holding it firm.
    ‘I really should take you home,’ he stated.

Chapter Thirteen
    The drive was a little over thirty minutes but every second was ticking by so slowly. She was tight to the passenger door of his truck, her head out the window, letting the breeze blow her hair off her face. She was pissed. And he didn’t blame her. It had been obvious what she wanted to happen and he’d rejected it, thrown the offer back at her by not reacting. The