Read Sheila's Passion for Free Online
Authors: Lora Leigh
woman doesn’t hide something so important as the man she’s in love with, unless there’s something holding her back. Or,” his voice lowered further. “Or, she doesn’t love him at all. And if that’s the case, then I don’t want to know who he is.” He shrugged as though it didn’t matter. “I only want to meet the important ones and this one obviously isn’t important at all.”
At that point, he straightened and moved back to his office without saying anything further, leaving Sheila to stare at his back with narrowed eyes as she wondered at what game he could be playing with her. Her father could be amazingly devious when he wanted information. That was why he made such an efficient commander for the Covert Information Network.
She only wished Casey didn’t matter.
She wished she didn’t miss him with everything inside her; missing him was killing her.
She wished the only thing holding her back was the fear of losing the rest of her heart.
It was the fear of losing so much more than her heart that terrified her.
Because what she was beginning to feel, she felt as though it went much deeper than her heart, went much deeper than any other emotion she had ever felt.
It went clear to her soul.
* * *
Casey sat at the bar tapping his fingers against the gleaming wood. His gaze was locked on the mirror behind the bar, giving him a clear view of the entrance.
The large, cavernous building was nearly at its limit with the threat of a line forming outside once they were forced to close the doors against additional customers. Once customers arrived at the Broken Bar, they seemed to stay until last call. Which made it hard for any additional customers arriving unless the owner, Ethan Cooper, used the one-hour limit he was often forced to set.
The band, positioned along the wall at the center of the room on the opposite side of the building, was belting out another of those sensual slow tunes they were inclined to play. Broken hearts, broken loves, and beer drinkin’ nights. He was damned sick of hearing about it. Every wailing note did nothing but remind him of Sheila and the fact that he’d been waiting on her all day and half the night. He reminded himself of a lovesick teenager.
The door swung open again, but the couple that entered wasn’t Sheila. She should have been here by now. It was her job to pick up the information the team had acquired over the past week. Instead, he was still here waiting on her. It felt like he had been waiting on her all his life.
He glanced at his watch before his gaze lifted to the door once more. Yep, that was him; lovesick teenager.
Sheila knew he didn’t work tonight. Son of a bitch, she always showed up on Tuesday nights. Tuesday nights were theirs. Slow loving and her sensual cries as they drove each other crazy with every kiss, caress, and stroke they could bestow on each other.
Casey tapped his fingers against the wood again, his teeth clenching as a surge of hunger and anger struck at his gut. She wasn’t going to show up. He could feel it. She was avoiding the bar and she was avoiding him and he was damned if he was going to let her get away with it.
His jaw bunched in irritation.
If Sheila was going to cut him off like this, the least she could have done was give him a reason why she was breaking off what they had. He didn’t even know what the hell was going on, what he had done, or why she had ended the relationship the other morning as she left.
Hell, he had no idea what had happened, and it wasn’t as though he could talk to her about it. He couldn’t even catch up with her long enough. And now, she was late arriving to pick up the files it was her job to transport to her father.
He had asked her what he had done, something he had never asked another woman and wouldn’t have bothered to even care about with anyone else.
Her reply had been “nothing.”
There had been an odd tone to her voice, though. One he hadn’t wanted to
At that point, he straightened and moved back to his office without saying anything further, leaving Sheila to stare at his back with narrowed eyes as she wondered at what game he could be playing with her. Her father could be amazingly devious when he wanted information. That was why he made such an efficient commander for the Covert Information Network.
She only wished Casey didn’t matter.
She wished she didn’t miss him with everything inside her; missing him was killing her.
She wished the only thing holding her back was the fear of losing the rest of her heart.
It was the fear of losing so much more than her heart that terrified her.
Because what she was beginning to feel, she felt as though it went much deeper than her heart, went much deeper than any other emotion she had ever felt.
It went clear to her soul.
* * *
Casey sat at the bar tapping his fingers against the gleaming wood. His gaze was locked on the mirror behind the bar, giving him a clear view of the entrance.
The large, cavernous building was nearly at its limit with the threat of a line forming outside once they were forced to close the doors against additional customers. Once customers arrived at the Broken Bar, they seemed to stay until last call. Which made it hard for any additional customers arriving unless the owner, Ethan Cooper, used the one-hour limit he was often forced to set.
The band, positioned along the wall at the center of the room on the opposite side of the building, was belting out another of those sensual slow tunes they were inclined to play. Broken hearts, broken loves, and beer drinkin’ nights. He was damned sick of hearing about it. Every wailing note did nothing but remind him of Sheila and the fact that he’d been waiting on her all day and half the night. He reminded himself of a lovesick teenager.
The door swung open again, but the couple that entered wasn’t Sheila. She should have been here by now. It was her job to pick up the information the team had acquired over the past week. Instead, he was still here waiting on her. It felt like he had been waiting on her all his life.
He glanced at his watch before his gaze lifted to the door once more. Yep, that was him; lovesick teenager.
Sheila knew he didn’t work tonight. Son of a bitch, she always showed up on Tuesday nights. Tuesday nights were theirs. Slow loving and her sensual cries as they drove each other crazy with every kiss, caress, and stroke they could bestow on each other.
Casey tapped his fingers against the wood again, his teeth clenching as a surge of hunger and anger struck at his gut. She wasn’t going to show up. He could feel it. She was avoiding the bar and she was avoiding him and he was damned if he was going to let her get away with it.
His jaw bunched in irritation.
If Sheila was going to cut him off like this, the least she could have done was give him a reason why she was breaking off what they had. He didn’t even know what the hell was going on, what he had done, or why she had ended the relationship the other morning as she left.
Hell, he had no idea what had happened, and it wasn’t as though he could talk to her about it. He couldn’t even catch up with her long enough. And now, she was late arriving to pick up the files it was her job to transport to her father.
He had asked her what he had done, something he had never asked another woman and wouldn’t have bothered to even care about with anyone else.
Her reply had been “nothing.”
There had been an odd tone to her voice, though. One he hadn’t wanted to