Stone Cold Surrender - Brenda Jackson [23]
Desire surged through her and she knew if she didn’t pull back now the unthinkable might happen. But then a rebel part of her that barely ever surfaced hinted that the unthinkable in this case just might be something she should do.
She didn’t have much time to think about it further when Stone lifted his mouth again and she, regretfully, released her arms from around his neck and took a step back, putting space between them.
“I guess I better grab that luggage so we can leave,” he said, keeping his gaze glued to her face.
“That’s a good idea and I don’t think there should be any more physical contact between us until we talk,” she said softly, trying to hold on to the resolve she’d had that morning. The same resolve his kiss had almost swiped from her.
She watched as he arched a dark brow. “You’ve made decisions?”
Her gaze held on to his. “Yes.”
He nodded then walked across the room for her luggage.
“Tell me about yourself, Stone, and I would love hearing about all of your books.”
Stone briefly glanced across the seat of the truck and met Madison’s inquiring gaze. They had been on the road for over an hour already and she’d yet to tell him of any decisions she’d made. Even when they had stopped at a café for breakfast she hadn’t brought their relationship up. Instead she had talked about how beautiful the land was, how much she had enjoyed teaching last year and about a trip to Paris she had taken last month. She was stalling. He knew it and knew that she knew it, as well.
“Do you want to know about Stone Westmoreland or about Rock Mason?”
A bemused frown touched her face. “Aren’t they one and the same?”
“No. To the people I know I’m Stone Westmoreland. To my readers, the majority of whom don’t know me, I’m Rock Mason—a name I made up to protect my privacy. I should correct that and say it’s a name my sister Delaney came up with. At the time she was eighteen and thought it sounded cool.”
She nodded. “And which one of those individuals are you now?”
“Stone.”
She nodded again. And although she had made her mind up not to go there, she couldn’t help but ask. The need to know was too strong. “And each of the times you kissed me, who were you?”
He glanced over at her. “Stone.” He then pulled off the road, stopped the car and turned to her. “Maybe I need to explain things, Madison. I don’t have a split personality. I’m merely saying that a lot of people read a book a person writes and assume they know that individual just because of the words he or she puts on paper. But there’s more to me than what is between the pages of my novels. I write to entertain. I enjoy doing so and it pays the bills in a real nice way. Whenever I finish a book I feel a sense of accomplishment and achievement. But when all is said and done, I’m still a normal human being—a man who has strong values and convictions about certain things. I’m a man who’s proud to be an African-American and I’m someone who loves his family. I have my work and I have my privacy. For my work I am Rock Mason and for my private life I am Stone. I consider you as part of my private life.” With that said he started the car and pulled back on the main road.
Madison blew out a breath. The very thought that he considered her part of his life at all made her heart pound and parts of her feel soft and gooey inside. “So tell me something about the private life of Stone Westmoreland.”
Her request drew his brows together as he remembered the last time a woman had asked him that. Noreen Baker, an entertainment reporter who’d wanted to do an interview on him for Today’s Man magazine. The woman had been attractive but pushy as hell. He hadn’t liked her style and had decided when she’d tried delving into his personal life that he hadn’t liked her. But she was determined not to be deterred and had decided one way or another she would get her story.
She never got her story and found out the hard way that, although on any given day he was typically pretty nice and easygoing, when pissed off he could be hell to deal