Elaine Overton Loves Inferno

Coming In April 2006 . . .

Promises of the Heart

Callie leaned over the unconscious man looking for signs of life. The slight lift and fall of his chest gave her some small comfort. Amazingly enough, the man seemed essentially uninjured. Other than the slight disorientation he displayed, the fact that he was semi lucid was a very good indication. He may come out of this practically unscathed which was more than could be said for his classic car. She leaned forward a little more to get a better look at his face.

Callie Tyler had two distinctly unique abilities at her disposal. Her phenomenal gift for fixing anything on wheels and the uncanny ability of reading people. With one look, she knew without a doubt that this well dressed, overly handsome man was gonna be trouble. He was unconscious now, she thought, but eventually he would wake up and when he did he would have retaliation on his mind.

She studied the milk chocolate man laid out like dessert. He had a finely featured face that did not seem to jive with the brawny body that came with it. His build gave the impression of a man who used his physical strength often. Even in the prone position the bulging biceps were pressing against the light blue dress shirt. But his face was . . . Callie twisted her mouth in thought, and decided scholarly was the only word that fit. Yes, he looked scholarly. A thinker, not a builder.

She tilted her head to the side to study his profile and realized that at his temples his short-cropped curls were just starting to show signs of a little salt being added to the pepper. What a lovely profile it was, accentuating full sensual lips that begged for attention. Callie found herself mystified by the perfect heart shaped mouth outlined by a thick black mustache. She felt something like a compulsion to reach out and gently run her finger across his full bottom lip. So she did. That's when she noticed the cleft in his chin, and found herself cooing like an idiot. How could something so small add so much to a face?

She felt the urge to follow her finger with her tongue, tracing those beautiful lips and then moving down to the little cleft. Only with the shake of her head was she able to break the spell. Something about this unconscious stranger was pulling her in like quicksand. She stood straight and stretched. It was really no great mystery when she thought about it. It had been almost two years since she'd been in anything resembling a relationship. " Face it, Callie, your horny hormones are on overload ." In fact, this was probably the closest she'd been to a true member of the opposite sex in months. Callie smiled to herself. Sad as it was, an unconscious man was turning her on like crazy. It was understandable, in his sleeping state he seemed close to perfect, but Callie knew that wide-awake he would be anything but.

"And it doesn't take a scholar to figure that out," she whispered to her sleeping ward.

Left with nothing better to do until Pooky returned with help, she turned her attention to the banged up vehicle. She stepped back several feet and surveyed the damage from all angles. A 1965 Corvette Stingray in cherry apple red with a soft white drop-top. Now this was the ideal male.

She ran her hand along the smooth body, simply in awe of the craftsmanship that went into each and every curve. Callie didn't doubt for a minute that this car was built with loving hands. She finally came to the driver's side and her lust turned to sorrow.

She could not see the extent of the damage because of its position against the dumpster. From what she could see most of the damage looked superficial, but she would have to be able to see the driver's side door to be certain. It was a small car, and Callie knew she was strong despite her size. So, she braced her body against the car, and her feet against the dumpster and tried to pry the two apart. It didn't work. She needed a crow bar or something similar. So she went back around the car to get the keys out of the ignition hoping there would be some type of tools in the trunk.

Unfortunately, the man's large body was stretched fully across the front seat and she would have to crawl over him to get to the ignition switch where the keys were. She bit her bottom lip in consternation; even Callie had to admit her actions bordered on improper. Here she was considering climbing all over an injured man to get his keys so she could go into his private things. She bent her knee and clambered onto the man, deciding it was for the greater good. The car needed her help.

She shimmed left and right trying to keep her movements to a minimum. Problem was, he was much larger than he looked and Callie realized too late that she would have to somehow reach over his head to get to the steering column and the keys.

She scooted and scooted until she found herself at his waist. The man shifted. Callie paused, holding her breath. She looked down at him but he was still asleep. She let out a large breath and stretched out flat across his chest. Stretching her short arm toward the steering wheel, she was still falling several inches short of the target. Callie scooted forward a little more and froze. Something was firmly cupping her bottom. She swallowed hard realizing the something was a large hand. She twisted her face to look at the injured man. His eyes were still closed, his breathing pattern was still faint, but now there was just the tiniest bit of a smirk to those luscious lips.