One Last Kiss

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One Last Kiss Page 8

by Kat Martin


  She didn’t protest. She was exhausted, and after her fight with Vince, her body ached all over.

  “How’s your head?” Sam asked. “You haven’t had any nausea or blurry vision?”

  “No, nothing like that.”

  “Still have a headache?”

  “I took some more Tylenol. That helped. Mostly, I’m just tired.”

  “All right, then.” He reached out and touched her cheek. “Go get some rest. I’ll check on you in a while just to make sure you’re all right.”

  Libby nodded and hurried toward the house. She was eager to see the kittens, make sure they were okay. Her overnight bag was still packed in one of the mule panniers, but she had plenty of clothes, makeup, and everything else. Funny, she didn’t seem to need all that stuff anymore.

  She sighed. She probably shouldn’t get used to not wearing makeup. It was part of her life in the city, an essential part of her job. She’d done magazine ads for Revlon, L’Oreal, Maybelline, all the big cosmetic firms. She felt kind of guilty when she went au natural.

  In truth, wearing a little makeup made her feel feminine and pretty. She enjoyed looking pretty, especially for Sam.

  Memories stirred of their encounter in his tent, but she forced them away. She thought about Sam way too much. She didn’t want to get hurt, and there was every chance she would if she fell for Sam.

  Libby paused as she walked into the kitchen. She must have looked awful—dark circles under her eyes, her hair a rat’s nest, and a bump on her forehead—because Clara hurried over and hugged her.

  “You must be exhausted. What in the world did Sam do to you?”

  A faint smile touched her lips. Not enough, she thought. “It was a hard trip but mostly good.” Except for Vince Nolan attacking her. “I...umm...hit my head.” She touched the lump on her forehead. “Sam said it would be okay if I went upstairs and took a nap.”

  “Oh, honey. Of course it’s okay. I’ve had all day to get supper ready. You just run along now and don’t come down until you’re feeling better.”

  “What about the kittens? Are they all okay?”

  Clara smiled. “They did just fine. Their box is still in my room if you want to check on them.”

  “Thanks, Aunt Clara.” It was the first time Libby had ever called her that, but everyone else did, and in the moment, it felt right.

  Libby headed down the hall to check on the kittens, who looked bigger already, and healthy, their gray fur shiny and beginning to fluff out. She didn’t want to wake them, so she continued upstairs, stripped off her dirty clothes, and took a hot shower. As soon as she climbed into bed, she fell asleep.

  Morning sunlight streamed through the windows when she awoke. Shocked she had slept through the night, she grabbed her clothes and hurriedly dressed. Glancing out the bedroom window, she spotted a black-and-white SUV parked in front of the house; Eagle County Sheriff was painted on the door.

  Dread rolled through her. Libby steeled herself for the conversation ahead, but by the time she got downstairs, the sheriff’s car was driving off toward the gate.

  “I’m sorry,” she said as she walked into the kitchen. “I can’t believe I slept so late. I should have set my alarm.” Breakfast was over, everyone gone.

  Clara tossed aside the potholder in her hand. “Don’t you worry about it. You needed the rest or you wouldn’t have slept so long. How are you feeling today?”

  “Good. No headache.” Libby smiled. “I slept straight through. I feel great this morning.”

  “A good night’s sleep can work miracles,” Clara said.

  Still half-asleep, Libby headed for the coffeepot on the kitchen counter and poured herself a mug.

  Clara returned a baking pan to the cupboard. “Sam told me you had trouble with one of the guests. Vince.” She said the name as if it burned her tongue. “I tried to like him, but he was never really friendly. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m all right.” She didn’t want to think about it. She especially didn’t want to talk about it. “It’s over and they’re gone.”

  Sam walked through the back door just then and spotted her next to the sink. He strode toward her in that sexy way of his, long legs moving with power and confidence. There was an air of authority about him that always made her feel safe.

  He poured himself a cup of coffee. “The sheriff just left. Let’s go into the living room where we can talk.” Reaching out, he took her hand, and they started in that direction.

  The living room was large, a beautiful high-ceilinged room with big plate-glass windows looking out at distant snow-capped peaks. Sam led her over to the seating area in front of the river rock fireplace, and they sat down on the brown leather sofa.

  “Sheriff Carver was here,” Sam said. “I called him to report what happened on the mountain.”

  Libby nodded, coffee mug cradled in her hands. “I saw his car through the window.”

  “Carver ran a check on Vince Nolan and Max Stoddard, but nothing turned up. No outstanding warrants, nothing like that.”

  “That’s good, I guess.”

  “Maybe. Max had an apartment in Denver, where apparently Vince was staying, but Max recently moved out, and neither of them left a forwarding address.”

  Sam ran a hand over his jaw. He had shaved that morning, exposing the cleft in his chin. “I checked Max’s driver’s license when he arrived. Address matched the one in Denver he used when he booked the cabin online. That’s our usual procedure.” He shook his head. “Even if I’d dug deeper, nothing would have turned up.”

  “It wasn’t your fault, Sam. There’s no way to tell if you can trust someone just by looking at them. They’re gone now. That’s the important thing.”

  Sam said nothing.

  “I need to get going,” Libby said. “The cabins need to be cleaned. I want to make sure Wolverine is thoroughly scrubbed. Before we left on the trip, I smelled cigarette smoke in there.”

  A muscle ticked in Sam’s jaw. “No smoking allowed. They agreed to that when they booked the cabin.”

  “I’ll air it out before the next guests arrive.”

  “I had a bad feeling about those two,” Sam said. “I should have listened to my instincts.”

  “What happened wasn’t your fault,” Libby said again.

  Sam exhaled a slow breath, and Libby could tell he was trying to hold on to his temper.

  “Why don’t you take the day off?” he suggested. “You deserve it. I’ll have Dare or one of the other hands fill in for you.”

  Libby shook her head. “No way. I already missed breakfast. I can’t just sit in my room.” She took her mug and rose from the leather sofa. “I’ll see you later.” She took off before Sam could try to persuade her. Sitting around all day wouldn’t make her feel any better.

  She worked through the morning and had the afternoon to herself. With nothing to do until it was time to help with supper, she wandered outside.

  The first time she had seen the tiny, miniature goats, she had completely fallen in love. Some snowy white with black legs, some brown and white, others black and white, they were funny and sweet and were beginning to recognize her because she sometimes sneaked them treats.

  Libby headed in that direction. Shoving open the gate, she went into the pen and sat down on the grass beneath the tree to watch them leap and play and butt their heads in mock battles. It was a sunny, beautiful Colorado day as she leaned against the tree trunk and let the sun warm her.

  The little goats came up to nuzzle her hand, and she smiled in pleasure. She would only close her eyes for a moment, she told herself. Just a few seconds to feel the sun on her face and the goats’ silky coats beneath her hands.

  She smiled as she drifted to sleep.

  * * * *

  Sam had been looking for Libby all over. Finding no sign of her, he was beginning t
o worry. He had no idea which rock Stoddard and Nolan had crawled back under or whether they might return to the ranch. Vince seemed to be obsessed with Libby. Sam didn’t trust the man not to cause more trouble.

  He spotted Big John and headed in his direction. “I’m looking for Libby. Have you seen her?”

  The big man nodded. “I will show you where she is.”

  Sam followed John’s long strides toward the pen that held the pygmy goats. Libby sat on the ground at the base of a tree, her legs out in front of her, a tiny goat curled up on each side of her, another in her lap. Her golden hair streamed over her shoulders, her eyes were closed, and there was a soft smile on her face. All of them were asleep.

  For a moment, Sam thought he must have fallen down the rabbit hole and stumbled across Alice in Wonderland. He looked at this woman he had reluctantly accepted into his life, and his heart simply turned over.

  Big John grunted low in his throat. “I wonder if she knows yet that she is home.”

  Sam glanced over at his friend. “What?”

  “This woman, she does not belong in the city.”

  His chest clamped down. “What are you talking about? Libby lives in Manhattan. In a few weeks, she’ll go back and we’ll probably never see her again.”

  Big John cast him a glance that was far too perceptive, then just turned and walked away.

  What the hell? But when Sam looked back at Libby, emotion tightened his throat. You can’t have her, his mind warned. She’s a city girl. She could never be happy here.

  But for the first time since Libby’s arrival, Sam wasn’t so sure.

  One thing he knew—he was setting himself up for heartache if he didn’t get his feelings in check.

  Instead of waking her, Sam left her sleeping with the tiny goats and headed back to the house.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Why don’t you go to bed,” Libby said to Clara when supper was over. Clara’s rooms off the kitchen were comprised of a living area with TV, bedroom and bath. She enjoyed crocheting and reading in the evenings and usually headed off as soon as supper was over.

  “I’ll make sure everything is put away before I go upstairs,” Libby finished.

  Clara yawned. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Clara shuffled off down the hall, and Libby finished putting away the last of the supper dishes. After sleeping so late that morning, then napping in the afternoon, she wasn’t ready for bed. She went out on the deck to look at the stars through her telescope for a while, secretly hoping Sam would join her.

  He’d been distant all day, saying very little, working with the hands longer than usual, then heading for his study as soon as supper was over. She wondered if he was avoiding her. Maybe he regretted what had happened in his tent, or maybe he hadn’t enjoyed it as much as she had.

  Her eyes burned. She had warned Sam she wasn’t that good at sex. When he never came out of the house, she finally gave up, went inside and up to her room.

  As she undressed and pulled on a sleep-tee, she thought of Vince Nolan and what had almost happened. She liked to leave the windows open at night so she could see the stars and feel the evening breeze, but tonight she felt restless and edgy, and the breeze didn’t help.

  It was almost midnight, and she was still wide awake. She felt lonely in a way she hadn’t since she had first come to Bridger Ranch. She glanced up at the sound of a quiet knock at the door. It swung open, and Sam stood in the hallway, tall and broad-shouldered, his dark gold hair gleaming in the moonlight streaming through the open window.

  “I heard you moving around in here,” he said. “I thought maybe I should check, make sure you’re okay.”

  She tossed back the sheet and sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m glad you came.”

  Sam moved closer, and she could see the day’s growth of beard along his jaw.

  “Are you?” he asked. “Because this thing that’s happening between us...”

  “Yes...?”

  “If we don’t stop it now, it isn’t going to end well for either one of us.”

  Sadness rolled through her. “I know.” Sam was right, but she no longer cared. Sam wanted her. That was all that mattered.

  “I want to make love to you, honey, but it’s only going to make things more difficult when it’s time for you to leave.”

  Her throat felt tight. She rose from the side of the bed and stepped into his arms. “I don’t care.”

  Sam pulled her closer. “I want you, Libby. I want you so damned much.”

  Her eyes burned. “Sam...”

  She felt his fingers sliding into her hair; then his mouth came down over hers. It was a soft, sweet kiss that went on and on, slowly turning hot, wet, and erotic.

  Libby gripped the front of Sam’s denim shirt and took the kiss even deeper, inhaling the sexy male scent of leather and horses. His big hands moved down to the hem of her sleep-tee, and he pulled it off over her head, then eased away to look at her.

  “So beautiful.” He cupped her breasts and caressed them as he kissed his way down the side of her neck.

  Desire burned through her. His mouth took the place of his hands, and she thought she had never felt anything so sensual as the tug of his warm lips, the zig of pleasure when his teeth grazed her nipple.

  A soft moan escaped. She tipped her head back to give him better access, and Sam trailed kisses over her neck and shoulders. It wasn’t enough. She wanted him naked, wanted to see his amazing body, see the heavy male part of him that had been hidden from her too long.

  “Please, Sam, I want to touch you.”

  He kissed her one last time and began to strip off his clothes. In moments he was naked, more beautiful than she had imagined, all taut muscle, his erection thick and hard against his flat belly.

  She had never wanted to give a man oral pleasure before, but she wanted to give that gift to Sam. He stopped her just as she made the first move.

  “I want this to last, baby. The thought of you touching me that way is enough to make me go off like a schoolboy.” He flashed one of his devastating white smiles, bent his head, and kissed her.

  The next thing she knew they were lying in bed, Sam trailing kisses along her neck, over her breasts, moving lower.

  “I want to feel you inside me, Sam. I want to feel your weight on top of me while you make love to me. I’ve never wanted anything so much.”

  Sam kissed her as he came up over her, kissed her until she was hot and achy, damp and needy all at once.

  “Please, Sam.”

  “Soon, baby.” He touched her, stroked her, filled her, then held himself in check until she was squirming beneath him, silently begging for more. She arched her back, taking him deeper, riding the edge of climax, which Sam clearly knew.

  He drew himself out and sank in. Pulled out and sank in. Stars exploded behind Libby’s eyes, and sweet pleasure burned through her. Sam didn’t stop, just moved faster, deeper, harder, driving her up all over again. Gripping his muscular shoulders, she clung to him, her body tightening around him as Sam followed her to release. Head thrown back, muscles straining, he clenched his jaw to hold back a sound of passion.

  Libby’s eyes filled as Sam eased down on top of her. He was heavy, but she didn’t want to let him go. She toyed with a strand of golden hair, and her heart throbbed. She loved him. She had tried not to let it happen, but she loved him, and there was nothing she could do to save herself from the heartbreak ahead.

  “Are you okay?” Sam asked, lifting himself away from her.

  Libby blinked back tears she hoped he wouldn’t see and managed to smile. “Better than okay.”

  Sam kissed her softly one last time and left to deal with the condom she had barely noticed him put on. He returned and settled her in the crook of his arm, her head on his powerful bicep. />
  “You were right, Sam.” She traced a finger over the muscles on his chest. “It just has to be the right man.”

  Sam caught her hand and brought it to his lips. She could feel him smile. “The right man is just getting started, honey.”

  Sam kissed her long and deep, arousing her once more.

  Proving his point even better than he had before.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sam was in trouble. The kind he had given up on long ago. Sam was in love with Liberty Hale, and there was no way it could ever work.

  He knew she cared about him, maybe more than cared. But Libby was a beautiful, sophisticated woman who had studied at Columbia University, part of a wealthy, high-society family in New York. He couldn’t ask her to give all that up, no matter his feelings for her. It wouldn’t be fair to Libby.

  He tried not to think of last night and how good it had been between them. Tried not to think about how he wanted to spend tonight—and every night until she left—in her bed.

  Instead, he concentrated on the work he needed to do. He had a ranch to run. He didn’t have time to spend mooning over a woman.

  It was check-out day for the current group of visitors. With group two arriving next week, it was amazing how quickly time passed. Which meant his time with Libby would soon come to an end.

  The thought cast a dark pall over an otherwise spectacular day.

  The weather was warm, heading toward hot, the heat nice for a change. Betty and Alice had already checked out, hugged him, vowed to come back next year, and driven off with a teary smile and a wave. The honeymooners were gone, too, thrilled with their stay in the Dove’s Nest and their adventures these past couple of weeks.

  Sam had seen Libby earlier that morning, but not lately. He figured she would want to be there to say goodbye to Jenny, Caleb, Jordy, and Suzy.

  His cell phone rang. He always felt a little guilty using it, but it was his job to run the place and keep everyone happy and safe.

 

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