A Valentine from Harlequin

hers. Gray flecked with gold. She used to tell him they looked like granite with a vein of pure gold running through. She’d thought it an apt metaphor for all of him. He could be hard, impassive, even cold when required, but deep inside was a streak that was 24-carat pure and more precious than any metal. That was the part she’d loved.
    Now she knew it was only pyrite: fool’s gold.
    “I’ve missed you, Char.”
    Her eyes widened as she experienced his traitorous nature yet again. “How can you say that when you were just kissing another woman?”
    “That woman is a very nice lady who keeps me company when I need a date. But she’s not you.”
    Suddenly she remembered where she’d heard the woman’s voice. “She kept you company in Atlanta, too. That’s why you didn’t introduce us. You didn’t want me to hear her voice. She’s the one who picked up the phone in your hotel room at two in the morning.”
    “That’s right.” He said it so calmly, she wished they were still engaged just so she could hurl his filthy diamond at him again. “I always wondered why you called me so late that night.”
    She let her eyebrows rise just a fraction, forcing cold amusement into her eyes, while deep down she was dying to know what else he’d wondered. Had he thought about her over the months since she’d dumped him? Wished he’d done things differently? Wished he’d remained faithful? At least until the damn wedding?
    The sass went out of her as she thought of everything he’d thrown away. Maybe she’d never see him again, and suddenly, she had to know. “How could you do it?”
    The anger that flashed in his eyes startled her. “Do what?”
    “You weren’t playing canasta in your hotel room at two in the morning.”
    “So quick to judge.” He moved so fast she didn’t have a chance to avoid him this time. His hand swooped, catching her arm, and where his fingers contacted her flesh she felt a sizzle all the way to her toes. No one had ever affected her like this. Not before and not since.
    “So quick to betray,” she countered, hating the quiver in her voice even as she heard it tremble in the mist-soaked air.
    “Do you really think so little of me? Of yourself? You think I’d cheat on you only a few weeks away from our wedding?”
    Her chin went up at that. “I was home making out the invitation list for our wedding!”
    “Ah,” he said, and the anger dulled, edged with humor now. “I always wondered what frightened you that night.”

Chapter Two
    “I was not frightened.” Charlotte pulled herself erect, stretching out every one of her five feet and eight inches. She looked tall, svelte, and madder than hell.
    Scared, too. John saw it in her eyes, in the tensed shoulders exposed by her dress.
    In the two months since she’d tossed his ring back in his face, he’d plotted revenge, tried to forget her, to move on as all his well-wishers urged, but it was hopeless. He’d suspected as much before. Now that she was standing in front of him, every delectable inch of her quivering with disdain, her scent reaching him, her skin begging to be touched, he knew he had to get her back.
    He leaned a hip against the rail considering just how he was going to go about convincing the most stubborn woman he’d ever known that she’d been wrong. And that she wanted him back as much as he wanted her.
    No, want didn’t begin to cover the feelings that swelled within him just being close to her again. Need was a closer fit. He needed her like he needed food, water, and shelter. It was that basic.
    Of course, admitting she was wrong was not something Charlotte did gracefully, or well. Still, his life was on the line here. Both of their lives. And he had a small advantage in knowing his way past her defenses.
    If straight talk wouldn’t convince her she’d been a fool to throw their happiness away, he could ambush her in the most underhanded way possible. He’d use his knowledge of her body against her. He could whisper in her ear and know her toes were curling without so much as peeking beneath her hem. A soft kiss on her nape would raise goose bumps down her spine, cause her to sigh and her nostrils to dilate.
    And if he took his tongue to her—
    Her soft gasp made him realize he was staring at her chest, which must have given her a pretty good idea what was on his mind, for those nipples he could almost feel against his tongue had come to full alert.
    Charlotte might want to reject him, but her