Held for the Stud

by Vonna Harper

  “You’re one brave woman,” he said.

  “It’s called survival.”

  “Survive,” he whispered. “That’s what we all have to do.”

  “That’s something else I told Dade. Much as I wanted to keep going, I got the feeling he’d had all he could take for one day. He should be able to ride the horses once he’s recovered some more, maybe even Koko if he’s worked with him enough by then. I hope you’ll give him the opportunity.”

  “I will.”

  Wondering if Banner was aware of how much she could see of his scar, she approached him. The emotion that had propelled her to her feet had evaporated, leaving her with compassion for a man with his own wounds.

  “There’s a lot to this being human business,” he said. “I was certain I knew everything when I was eighteen.”

  “I don’t think I ever felt that way, but I get what you’re saying.”

  “Because of what you endured at an early age.”

  “Yes.”

  Not questioning what she was doing, she touched his shoulder blade. He jumped but didn’t pull away. Going with emotion and maybe nothing else, she ran her fingers down his back. His skin was rough and knotted, flesh sliced and imperfectly put back together

  What happened, she needed to ask but didn’t.

  He took a long breath. “Did you have to see a doctor? When you were raped as a child did…”

  “I should have been treated, but Mom wouldn’t take me. I think—I think my bleeding scared her. It was a while before she forgot and used me again.”

  “She didn’t damn forget.”

  “No.” Weary, she leaned her head against Banner’s back. “I’m trying to put my spin on it, I guess because it plays better in my head that way.”

  “There’s no making what she did right.”

  She straightened, debated walking out of the room, but stayed. “No more tonight, please.”

  “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s time to stop talking about you.”

  Wondering if he was thinking his turn had come, she stroked his twisted flesh some more. When that didn’t bring her as close to him as she needed, she pressed her lips where her fingers had been. This time he didn’t jump.

  “I was a medic when I got the scar.” He spoke so quietly she barely heard him. She didn’t want to hear what he had to say. “First-aid trained but far from qualifying as a doctor. It was my job to go in after a battle and treat the wounded.”

  “A battle with New Undine?”

  “Of course. We’ll probably be fighting them long past when you and I are alive.”

  Saddened by the finality in his tone, she kissed his back again. “Either them or someone else.”

  “Yeah. Hell of a mess, isn’t it?”

  “I guess.” At the moment she didn’t care about anything except him, not even the little girl she’d pulled out of the corners of her mind.

  “It was going to be dark before long. The other medic and I should have waited until reinforcements showed up, but there was a great deal at stake. We needed to get in and out as fast as possible. The scene was a damn bloody one.” He paused. “Aren’t they all?” he continued. “Yeah, they are, but this one—my friends were involved. I was desperate to get there, see what I could do.”

  His voice had taken on an edge that left no doubt he’d been sucked into the past. Planting both hands over his scar, she waited.

  “I didn’t care which wounded were on which side. I had a job to do, but…”

  “But you were particularly concerned for your friends.”

  “I couldn’t help it.”

  “Of course you couldn’t. You’re human. Why was speed so important?”

  “You had to ask.” She wondered when, if ever, he’d look at her. “The goal of this offensive had been to get our hands on some experimental chemical weapons before they were put to use.”

  “That sounds awful. Dangerous.”

  “It was. Just because something is banned doesn’t mean it won’t get used. According to what we’d learned from Intelligence, our side had managed to surprise those who were safeguarding the chemicals. Reinforcements were on their way. I was determined to save what lives I could and get them the hell out of there.” His upper body rose and fell as he filled his lungs. “I had tunnel vision. My friend had a belly wound. I tried to throw him over my shoulder. He slipped off. I dropped to my knees to pick him up. That’s when…”

  “You were jumped from behind?” she muttered.

  “With a knife. I think. Whoever was on my back said he’d make sure I never walked again. I couldn’t get out from under him.”

  Willing her shudders to not distract him from what he needed to say, she waited. Using an economy of words, he drew a stark picture of two men determined to stay alive even if it meant one killed the other. Banner had barely felt the weapon that sliced into his flesh and struck bone. He’d only known how close it was to his spinal cord. Driven by something deeper than fear, he’d fought his growing weakness. If not for the other medic’s intervention, he had little doubt that he’d be confined to a wheelchair. In a few minutes his attacker had lain next to the friend Banner had been trying to rescue.

  Both enemy and friend had died. The other medic had cinched a bandage around Banner to keep him from bleeding out. Then he’d sent a desperate message for help. Either minutes or hours later Banner had been carried to safety so he could be loaded onto a helicopter for a flight to a hospital. By then he hadn’t been able to feel his legs.

  “Sensation didn’t return for weeks.” It sounded as if the words were being wrenched out of a cage Banner had locked them into. “Weeks I spent on my side or belly.”

  What a nightmare that had to have been. But she wouldn’t give voice to what Banner was thinking. He’d worked so hard to get past that time, but the nightmare might rage back.

  “We’re a mess,” she said with her arms around him and her breasts against his back. “All these crazy human emotions getting in the way. Our pasts interfering—”

  “That’s how you see it? You and I have been at odds because of our emotions and personal histories?”

  “What do you want me to say?”

  Instead of telling her what he expected of her, he slowly turned. When they were face to face and chest to breasts, he kissed her forehead.

  “I never thought I’d do that,” he said with his mouth still on her. “Tell someone what I experienced.”

  “Just like I didn’t think I’d dredge up my childhood. It wasn’t that hard with Dade because I was doing it for him.”

  “And when it came to me?”

  “I think”—Be more honest than you’ve ever been.—“I’m sure it was because I needed you to know where I’m coming from, the baggage that’ll always be there.”

  “Baggage.” He seemed to be playing with the word. “Something that will never leave.”

  “No, I don’t think it will but…”

  “I should have been open about what happened to me,” he said. “I thought—I tried to convince myself that my experience had nothing to do with how I handle things today, but I shouldn’t have. I’ve been putting a lock on my emotions. Expected you to do the same.”

  “But I’m not wired that way. I keep messing up. Breaking your rules.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  He was so damn close, his essence expanding until she had no idea where he ended and she began. She longed to open herself to him and give her body to him.

  “One thing,” he said. “We don’t have to live in the past. Neither should we try to deny it exists.”

  “No, we shouldn’t. We deserve better.” Even with tears burning her eyes and making her throat ache, she smiled. “Do you think we can pull this off?”

  “My father asked me the same question, but I wasn’t ready then. Either that or he wasn’t the right one to ask.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes, as long as we put effort into the journey.”

  “What if I som
etimes slip and say or do something I shouldn’t?”

  When he splayed his hands over her buttocks and drew her tight against him, she had no doubt what he had in mind. They hadn’t figured everything out, far from it.

  But they’d made a start.

  “I’ll bring you back to center,” he said.

  Thank you, Master.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Morning’s chill had given way to the richness of a warm, cloudless day by the time Asha left the barn and headed for the corral currently occupied by a mare and her week-old foal. Determined to house the mare where she could keep an eye on her, she’d transferred the heavy-bellied horse here when the mare’s bag had started dripping. Sadly, she’d missed the middle-of-the-night birth. It probably would have been different if Banner hadn’t done such a complete job of distracting her.

  At least, Asha reminded herself, she’d been able to check the gangly filly the following morning. Within a couple of days, the baby had figured out how her legs worked and now easily avoided any human who tried to get near her.

  Smiling a smile that had only partly to do with newborns, Asha shaded her eyes and looked down the road for the truck Banner was driving. She hadn’t seen him since they’d left their bedroom as it was getting light. She could have gone with him for the material needed for a hay barn but she’d admitted she’d be in the way when it came to planning the barn’s design.

  Agreeing, he’d said he’d take advantage of their time apart by spending it with Andy, who’d offered to accompany him. They’d agreed that male bonding—especially for a complex man like Andy—was important.

  Besides, as she’d teased Banner, the unnamed filly was much cuter. He’d responded by pointing out that he could say the same thing about her. As a rumbling sound reached her, she acknowledged how relaxed she’d become around him—not that she could call the way she felt in his presence relaxed.

  Banner was too damn sexy for his own good—at least that was how she saw it. He’d made it clear he felt the same way about her. A lighthearted argument about relative sexiness had led to a tussle she’d lost.

  That’s what their current relationship came down to. Not everything had to be serious. Yes, he dealt with complex men every day, but things like long-legged fillies and the vase crammed full of dandelions she’d used as a centerpiece last night helped keep their lives in balance.

  “Oh don’t act like you’re spooked,” she admonished the filly that was staring down the road from behind her mother’s rump. “You just want someone to play with. From what I’m seeing, it won’t be long before there’s another baby horse on the property. What do you think of assuming the role of big sister?”

  The filly shook her head so hard she nearly lost her balance.

  “That’s pretty selfish of you. Go do your thing. My man’s here.”

  My man. The label felt both strange and right. Repeating it in her mind, she stepped onto the dirt and gravel driveway. As she did, something in the pasture to her right caught her attention. She squinted and leveled her attention on it. Her smile had faded, but it returned. She was still grinning when Banner pulled up next to her.

  “You’re that happy to see me?” He leaned out of the open truck window. “How would you react if I was gone overnight?”

  “If you intend to be gone that long,” she said so softly that hopefully Andy, who was in the passenger’s seat, couldn’t hear, “I’m coming with you.” She pointed toward the pasture. “I’m reacting to our visitor.”

  “Visitor? I wasn’t expecting—oh, you mean the doe.”

  “She has someone with her.”

  Andy leaned forward so he could see around Banner. “That’s a pretty new fawn, but hardly the first one I’ve seen this spring.” He held up his cell phone. “This gadget cost more than I wanted to spend, but I wanted the best camera I could get my hands on.”

  Instead of explaining further, Andy eased his door open and slowly exited the truck. “Hopefully they won’t spook,” he said. “I’m learning that taking decent deer pictures calls for patience. I’m working on the patience part.”

  “I’ll need a lot of that when it comes to working with the foal,” she said. “She’s crazy wild. Full of herself.”

  “Yeah, well…” Andy’s attention stayed on the distant deer.

  Asha didn’t say anything until Andy had slipped under the barbed wire and was heading toward the now-alert doe and fawn. She placed her hand on the back of Banner’s. “That’s a surprise,” she whispered. “I had no idea he was into wildlife photography.”

  “I think it’s something new.” Banner laced his fingers through hers. “Now I understand why he wanted to go with me—to buy the phone.”

  “So it wasn’t your stimulating company?”

  “Turns out he wanted to talk. I happened to be there.”

  She’d never believe that. Banner had a way of connecting with the men he was committed to help. One thing—he wouldn’t push Andy or anyone else. They’d open up about what they needed when they were ready.

  “Did you get the building materials you need?” she asked, not that she really cared. They’d only been apart for about four hours, but it felt longer. Having him where she could touch him was wonderful. And a little unnerving.

  “I’m having the trusses delivered. Ditto with the metal roofing.”

  She’d been privy to enough conversation about barn construction that she knew what he was talking about. Maybe she should encourage him to explain the particulars, but it was a beautiful day. Their world was alive with baby horses and deer—and what she felt for him.

  “Hop in,” he said. “I want to leave the trailer where the barn is going to go. I don’t think enough men are around to help unload today—unless I can convince you to provide muscle power.”

  She stared at a trailer full of hundreds of pounds of mostly lumber. “Don’t think so.”

  “Hmm. Then what do you suggest we do with the afternoon?”

  Alerted by his lighthearted tone, she shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  He frowned. “None?”

  “Not a single one.”

  “That’s too bad,” he said as she settled herself where Andy had been. “Here I was hoping you had an inventive streak.”

  “Oh,” she teased, “you want inventive. Why didn’t you say something before?” The air was buzzing around her, making it difficult to focus—not that she minded. In fact, Banner and electrified air were pretty much the same thing. “Ah, we could look online for girl horse names. If you want to stay outdoors, which isn’t a bad idea, we could check to see if any other mares are ready to drop their foals.”

  As he eased forward, he slid his hand between her legs—up where it counted. “We can do both things a little later.”

  “Later?” Staring openly at him while her heart hammered and skipped beats, she ran her tongue over her lips. “What about now?”

  “What about now?”

  Her body was already heating, although maybe it hadn’t cooled since they’d had sex early this morning. Everything about being with him felt good and new. She had no doubt he was in the same space.

  “We can’t fuck all the time,” she whispered. “It’s crazy to so much as suggest that’s possible.”

  He pushed against her pussy, which prompted her to lean against him and cup his erection. “Watch it,” he hissed. “You’ll make me have an accident.”

  “Slow as we’re going, it won’t be much of one. Are you saying you don’t believe the reward is worth the risk?”

  He chuckled, the sound sharper than the situation called for. “I’m not sure risk is the right word. Maybe opportunity.”

  Watching his expression out of the corner of her eye, she stroked him. He retaliated by running his fingers up and down her crotch. Teeth clenched, she struggled not to move.

  Lost the battle.

  As he positioned the trailer close to the stakes that marked where the barn was going to go, she marveled at how far they�
�d come since they’d met. In many ways they were no longer the man and woman they’d once been. They were more fully realized, more open. More in touch with their bodies to say nothing of each other.

  She waited until he’d turned off the engine and faced her. “I love you,” she said. “Just like that. With no warning.” Her heart stopped then started up, full and fulfilled.

  His eyes went dark. His mouth softened. “I understand—completely.”

  “You—”

  “Because I love you.” .

  Want to see more from this author? Here’s a taster for you to enjoy!

  Heat’s Night

  Vonna Harper

  Excerpt

  Raine Coello cringed as she opened her rental-car door, waiting for the blast of hot air to hit. Breathing deeply and slowly did nothing to lessen the humidity’s punch. A sane woman would return to her air-conditioned hotel room, change into something cool and spend the rest of the evening at the bar. However, she’d spent the day being seduced by vendors and others, and its highlight had been the inevitable rubber-chicken lunch. Blech. If she didn’t go for a run, didn’t lose herself in a routine of monotonous rhythm and straining muscles, she’d never be able to sleep.

  She had to do what it took to at least briefly silence her restless mind.

  Don’t. You know better than to go there.

  Because ordering herself not to think those particular thoughts seldom worked, Raine stepped out of the car, closed and locked it. She checked to make sure her designer athletic shoes were tied then faced the entrance to the night-darkened preserve. She hadn’t worn underwear because—all right, because she didn’t feel like it and wouldn’t be seeing anyone.

  Outside the city limits, the nature preserve seemed a world apart from the hotel where the convention she was attending was being held. There were no skyscrapers, no sounds of vehicles or people. The swampy vegetation would still be there long after she was dead. She meant nothing to anything that lived and grew here, so why, suddenly, did she want it to embrace her?