Strangers When We Meet by Marisa Carroll Page A

more exciting. Emma felt her breath catch in her throat.
    “Oh, no, you don’t. I have allergies. I’ll be sneezing for days.”
    “You’re just saying that,” Keegan accused her. “You don’t have allergies, do you?” Disappointment was writ large on the faces of all three young Coopers.
    “All right.” Emma laughed, scrambling to her knees as she looked around for the nearest escape route. “I don’t have allergies but I’m not giving up without a fight.” She pulled Randi close and tickled her belly. Laughing, the little girl wiggled away, scattering leaves in all directions.
    “Get her, Keegan. Help us, Mr. Weston,” she squealed. “She—”
    “She’s a wicked witch in disguise. Oh, help! Save us,” Robin begged, laughing delightedly as she got caught up in the spirit of the game.
    Blake handed his rake to Keegan, but his eyes remained locked on Emma’s face. “I think the little girls are right. You are a witch in disguise.”
    His gaze was scorching, and she burned at its touch. Deliberately she made herself look away from the man to the boy. “What? You’re turning on me, too?” Keegan began to furiously add more leaves to the pile. A rakefull landed in Emma’s lap, and she brushed the leaves away.
    “I have to protect my little cousins,” he said piously, and dumped another armload of leaves onto her feet.
    “You just got through telling me you wanted a pile of leaves big enough for you to jump into,” Blake reminded her.
    “Jump into, not be buried in.” Emma covered her head with her arms and attempted to stand. The twins had seen their opportunity and were scooping handfuls of leaves in Emma’s direction.
    “Too late. Haven’t you ever heard that old saw about being careful what you wish for?” Blake moved so quickly she couldn’t get out of his way. He tackled her, wrapped both arms around her and pulled her down into the dry leaves that smelled of warm, damp earth and memories of summer sun.
    “Keegan! Randi!” Robin shrieked “Now we’ve got them both. Hurry! Hurry! Cover them up!”
    Leaves rained down over both of them. Blake rolled on top of Emma, shielding her from the onslaught. “Those little turncoats.” He laughed, his face inches from hers, his shoulders taking the brunt of the assault unleashed by their giggling attackers.
    Sunlight filtered through the leaves. Dust tickled her nose. But those things were only peripheral distractions. For Emma the world momentarily narrowed to exclude everything but the two of them. She was aware with every fiber of her being of the hard length of his body so close to hers, of his arms holding her safe.
    He smelled of earth and the spice of a rich cologne. His eyes were dark and unreadable in the gloom of their almost weightless prison. Her fingers itched to bury themselves in the silky hair at the nape of his neck, and she wanted to run her hands over the corded muscles of his arms and the rock solidness of his back. She wanted to feel his legs tangle with hers, his lips on hers.
    To be alone with him. That’s what she’d wanted since they’d first met. It didn’t matter where or how. She’d never even known you could construct a lovers’ cocoon from fallen leaves, but for the moment that’s what they had.
    She had Blake Weston to herself, and any thoughts other than that refused to take root in her brain.
    She stared at him. She didn’t close her eyes as his head came nearer, his lips mere inches from hers. “Now what?” he asked, and his voice was as warm and earthy as the scents and textures that surrounded them.
    “Kiss me.” She didn’t wait for him to do as she bid, but lifted her head, brushed her lips across his. He angled his mouth just slightly, enough for her to know that he wanted inside, and she wanted that, too. Opening her mouth to his, she tasted strength and desire. A heated rush swirled through her veins, pooling low inside and sending tiny arcs of sensation to every nerve ending she possessed.