Gathering up the reins, she murmured down to him, “Thank you, Cordero.”
He tipped the brim of his hat to her and then quickly swung himself into Lightning’s saddle. “Which way are we going?” he asked as he nudged his horse alongside hers.
She pointed in a westerly direction. “There’s an old road past the stables that will eventually lead us to the cane fields. I thought I’d give you a farming lesson today.”
“All right. Lead the way.”
They urged their horses into a fast walk and soon met up with the road Anne-Marie had mentioned. It was hard-packed dirt and lined with huge pecan trees and tangled underbrush. Fat squirrels raced across the path in front of them while colorful birds flitted from tree limb to tree limb.
As they ambled along, Anne-Marie, said, “This road was used by wagons and mule teams for hauling the cut cane down to the river landing. Nowadays, the tractors and harvesters have a wider more direct path to the fields.”
He glanced curiously around him. “Is that how this place got its name? There’s a river landing close by?”
She nodded. “Probably about two miles from here. I’ll show you before we head home.”
He caught her gaze and grinned. “Feel like kicking them into a trot?”
“Sure.”
Anne-Marie was relieved to feel the horse respond immediately to the touch of her heels. But only a few seconds had passed before Cordero was calling over to her.
“You don’t have to do all that posting, Anne-Marie.”
“That’s how I was taught to ride a trot.”
“And you’re doing it beautifully. But there’s no need. Just put your, uh, butt down in the saddle and keep it there,” he instructed.
The moment she did as he suggested, the jarring rhythm of the horse flopped her up and down and all over the seat.
“I can’t — do thi — ss!” she squealed.
Laughing, Cordero moved in closer. “Yes, you can. Don’t use such good posture. Slump your shoulders just a bit,” he instructed. “Now, soften your spine and let it be a shock absorber.”
Anne-Marie focused her entire attention on following his orders and was amazed when she felt the seat of her pants staying put.
“Cordero, look! I’m doing it, aren’t I?”
He could see her smile wasn’t just an expression of accomplishment. It was happy. Something he’d not seen on her face before. The sight thrilled him. This was the woman she was meant to be, he thought, with joy shining in her eyes.
“I’ve never seen it done better,” he agreed. “And now that you’ve mastered that, are you ready to canter?”
“Taco’s not going to bust into a buck, is he?”
Cordero laughed at her suspicious question. “No. I’d never risk that beautiful neck of yours. Come on and follow me.”
Before she had time to hesitate, he kicked Lightning into a faster pace. Taco quickly followed and for the next minute or so they loped down the shady lane until the dirt path ended.
Once they pulled the animals to a stop, Anne-Marie laughingly slid from the saddle and waited for him to dismount beside her.
“Oh, that was wonderful!” she exclaimed. “I’d forgotten how amazing it is to sit astride a horse, feeling all that power beneath you.”
He’d never seen a woman look so alive or so desirable. The brown scarf that secured the hair at her nape had loosened and so had some of the copper strands. Her hair fell against her cheeks, which were flushed the color of ripe peaches. Excitement glittered in her blue eyes. All he wanted to do was gather her against him and make love to her beneath the quiet shade of the wild magnolia trees.
“See. Your father has given you a pair of wonderful gifts to enjoy,” he said.
The smile slowly faded from her face. “Yes. He has.” She quickly turned and led her horse away from him, over to an opening between the trees.
Cordero followed. She was looking out at acre upon acre of emerald-green sugarcane.
“Wow! That’s pretty,” he softly exclaimed.
The awed expression on his face surprised her. “You think so?”
He nodded. “What’s not pretty about a crop growing under the hot sun? Maybe the sugar from this cane will eventually make its way to the Sandbur and Juan will make a pie from it.”
A faint smile touched her lips. “Your home is far from here. Who knows what will be made from this cane. Maybe molasses for horse feed.”
“Then Taco and Lightning will enjoy it,” he said.
This man seemed to find something positive in everything, Anne-Marie thought. And for a moment, while they’d been cantering the horses and the wind had been whipping her cheeks, she’d felt a tiny glow of hope and renewal flickering inside of her. She’d felt a part of the happy confidence he exuded. But then he’d mentioned her father and she was suddenly reminded that Cordero was only here because of Jules. He was on this ride with her because of a sense of duty to his friend. Not because he found her wildly irresistible or because he enjoyed her company.
Annoyed with herself for thinking such useless thoughts, she said, “Let’s tether the horses and walk out in the field.”
He agreed with her suggestion and after choosing a spot where the horses would be shaded, they tied the reins to a low-hanging limb and walked out between the deep furrows of plowed black dirt. Above their heads, the green cane leaves rustled slightly in the breeze.
“When will this stuff be harvested?” Cordero asked.
“Late fall. Early winter. We get one or two cuttings a year here in Louisiana before there’s a chance of frost. Now if we were in Hawaii the farmers there let the cane grow for two years before it’s cut. It yields a lot more sugar that way. But they have much warmer weather and a continual growing season.” She reached over, broke off a stalk and stripped the leaves. “Nearly all crops are grown from seed. But cane isn’t. Each harvest some of these sections are saved and planted back into the ground.”
His dark brows peaked with curiosity and as she watched his face beneath the brim of his hat, she realized he was the sort of man who would always jolt a woman’s senses. She figured if she saw him fifty years from now, he’d still look just as sexy and sensual as he did today. He had that timeless sort of attraction, and it was definitely pulling on her at this very moment.
“Hmm. I didn’t know that. You’ve taught me something. But what would happen if a flood or freeze killed the whole crop? You wouldn’t have anything to replant.”
She broke off a short piece of the cane and handed it to him. “Have a chew. It’s sweet.”
He did as she suggested and she said, “I really don’t know about that part of it. You’d have to ask Father. I suppose we’d have to get pieces to plant from other cane growers.”
He tossed away the piece he’d chomped on and she laughed.
“What’s the matter?” she asked. “Wasn’t as sweet as you thought?”
Chuckling, he reached out and snaked an arm around her waist. “It was sweet. But the dose of sugar I want is standing right here in front of me.”
Taken by surprise, Anne-Marie stumbled toward him. As his hands tightened around her waist, she reached up and planted her palms against his broad chest to prevent her from falling completely against him.
“Cordero! “Tossing her head back, she stared up at his laughing face. “I told you last night that I — this wasn’t going to happen again!”
The corners of his eyes crinkled with mischief. “This what? I’m not doing anything.”
“Not yet. But —”
“Oh, Anne-Marie, you’re too beautiful. I can’t stand here with you like this and not kiss you. I wouldn’t be much of a man if I didn’t try, now would I?”
Her palms felt the heat of his flesh through the thin fabric of his shirt and she was horrified at how much she wanted to unbutton the fabric and slide her fingers against his chest.
Her heart thumping hard and fast, she looked down at the plowed earth beneath their feet. “Am
I going to have to worry about this each time we’re alone together?”
His forefinger moved beneath her chin and tilted her face up to his. “Why worry about it, Anne-Marie? Why not enjoy it?”
The warm sultry light in his dark eyes invited her to move closer, beckoned her to accept all the sinful pleasures he was offering. She tried to steel herself against the desire rising up in her, but she couldn’t ignore the brush of his hard thighs next to hers, the caressing heat of his hands as they slid to the middle of her back and climbed up to her shoulders.
“You’re a wicked man, Cordero.” Her voice was so thick it was a struggle to get the words past her throat. “You’re deliberately tempting me to cave in to you — to this!”
Grinning slyly, he leaned his forehead against hers. “Of course I’m tempting you. Because I want you.”
I want you. His words tumbled over and over in her brain until erotic images of the two of them consumed her thoughts and broke the last flimsy wall of her resistance. She wanted to taste him again, feel her body crushed against his hard muscles.
The groan that sounded in her throat must have been a sign of surrender to Cordero and he took full advantage by lowering his lips to hers.
She felt herself moving forward into the solid circle of his arms, but whether she was urged on by his hands, or her own needs, she didn’t know. Nor did it matter. She was where she wanted to be.
Sighing with undisguised longing, she closed her eyes and parted her lips. The bright sunshine mingled with spiky green cane leaves to create dancing colors behind her eyelids. His tongue slipped between her teeth, ventured to the roof of her mouth, then tangled with her tongue.
Sharp and sweet, desire shot straight to her core. The blood racing through her veins was like molten lava, heating every muscle, scorching every nerve in her body.
Rising on her tiptoes, she slipped her arms around his neck and pressed herself closer. The scent of him invaded her nostrils and seemed to fill every pore in her skin. The taste of his lips was like dark woodsy wine, intoxicating her, urging her to take one sip, then another and another.
Sweat rolled between her breasts and collected at her waistband. The sky above her began to spin and the ground beneath her boots felt as though it was caving away, leaving only his body to support her. Her fingers gripped his shoulders tightly. Her breathing grew so shallow it was practically nonexistent.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Anne-Marie knew this thing between them had to end. Yet she couldn’t find the strength or the will to pull away, to break the delicious spell he was weaving.
Cordero was the one who finally lifted his mouth and as he drew in several ragged breaths, Anne-Marie fought to assemble her senses. Slowly her eyelids fluttered open to see his rugged face hovering above hers. But instead of the naughty grin she expected, his expression was sober, almost haunted.
Awkwardly, she pulled her arms from his neck and splayed her palms against the middle of his chest. She could feel his heart thudding madly, matching the pulse that was pounding in her ears.
“I, uh, that was quite a kiss,” he murmured.
She didn’t know how her cheeks could get any hotter, but they did. Dropping her head, she turned her back to him. Even so, her maneuver didn’t put any space between them. Not when his hands prevented her from moving away.
Wiping a hand at her sweaty forehead, she sighed. “It was…insane!”
His hands moved upward until they were cupping her small breasts. Anne-Marie had to bite down on her tongue to keep from groaning out loud. All she wanted was to turn and kiss him all over again. She wanted to slide her hands beneath his shirt, feel his skin slick against hers, his body driving into her.
Bending his head, he whispered, “Then it was a sweet insanity.”
The touch of his lips against the soft curve of her neck splintered her resistance and her head lolled backward until it rested against his shoulder.
“I’m not your plaything, Cordero.”
His fingers began to knead the soft flesh of her breasts. “No. You’re a woman who’s been lonely. A woman who’s been trying to pretend she doesn’t need a man’s arms around her.”
Not willing to accept anything he was saying, she twisted away. As she went, his hand caught the scarf slipping from her hair and before she could get away entirely, he used the silk as a snare around her waist.
As he tugged her back to him, she said in a flustered voice, “You don’t know what I want or need!”
“Then I guess I’ll just have to show you all over again,” he drawled as she landed with a thump against his chest.
Chapter Six
Anne-Marie was desperately wondering where she would find the strength to survive another one of his kisses when suddenly the rumbling sound of a tractor could be heard on the opposite end of the field.
With a wry smile, Cordero handed her the scarf and allowed her to step away from him.
“Great timing,” he muttered.
Her hands shaking, she struggled to tie the scarf around her tumbled hair. “One of the hands must be checking the crops for insects or fungus.”
Realizing the intimate moments between them were over, he placed his hand against her back and urged her out of the cane field. “Let’s get back to the horses,” he said.
Once they reached Taco and Lightning, they untied the horses and Cordero helped Anne-Marie climb into the saddle.
Without looking at him, she said, “I can do it myself.”
“Don’t be silly. We were close to making love a few moments ago. It won’t change anything if I touch you now.”
Her lips were set in a grim line as she glanced over her shoulder at him. “All right, but then we’re going straight home.”
Instead of putting his hands on her waist to lift her up, his fingers closed around her shoulders and slowly turned her toward him.
“Why do you want to go back home?” he asked softly. “So you can hide from me? And yourself?”
“That’s an awful thing to say.”
“No, it’s an awful thing for you to do.”
She let out a long breath as all sorts of emotions warred inside her. “I’m not trying to hide. I just want to —”
When she didn’t go on, he finished for her, “Play it safe? Isn’t that what you’re trying to say?”
Annoyed with herself, she said, “What if I am? There’s nothing wrong with trying to keep a sensible head.”
Groaning with disbelief, he brushed his fingers tenderly against her cheek. “Oh, Anne-Marie, I don’t know where you got this idea that you need to live such a pure, solitary life, but it’s not for you. You were made for a man to love and for you to love him in return.”
Swallowing at the tightness in her throat, she turned her gaze toward Taco’s gray dappled shoulder. “My lot is to help others, Cordero. Why can’t you accept that?”
Because he’d tasted the passion in her kiss, the need in her clinging hands. In fact, he could still feel the soft shape of her lips beneath his, the way her small body had melted against him. Kissing her hadn’t just left him with a burning ache, it had shattered something deep inside him and left him feeling exposed and vulnerable. A kiss wasn’t supposed to do all that.
“You can help others and still have a man in your life.”
Her blue eyes searched his face. “Is that what you’re trying to be? The man in my life?”
Cordero didn’t know what the hell he was trying to do, other than assuage the itch to make love to her. Yet touching her, even in a casual way was turning out to be worse than shoving his hand into the branding fire. Kissing her had burned him right down to the bone. What would having sex with her do to him? Turn him into a pile of useless ashes?
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Liar,” she said softly. “You’re trying to convince me that there would be nothing wrong in having sex with you.”
Cordero couldn’t remember the last time he’d blushed. Maybe in grade school when h
is teacher had called on him to read a soppy love poem in front of the class. But now he could feel red heat climbing up his face and stinging his jaws.
“There wouldn’t be. I mean — anything wrong — with you and me — together.”
Anne-Marie rolled her eyes. “Maybe not for you. But it would be for me.” With a shake of her head, she confessed, “I’ve never met a man like you, Cordero.”
His gaze soft upon her face, he trailed a finger down the side of her cheek. “I’m glad. I don’t think the world could handle two of us.”
She certainly doubted it. She couldn’t even handle one of him.
With a soft little sigh, she turned her back to him and lifted her foot to the stirrup. “Come on,” she said, “help me up. And I’ll show you the river landing.”
His hands closed around her slender waist, but instead of lifting her into the saddle, he brought his lips near her ear.
“Thank you, Anne-Marie.”
His murmured words confused her and she turned her head just enough to catch a glimpse of his face. “For what?” she asked.
“Not running away from me.”
There was no teasing in his voice, only a raw longing that made everything inside Anne-Marie want to turn and fling herself into his arms.
Instead, she merely nodded and waited for the lift of his strong hands to help her into the saddle.
Later that morning, when they returned to the homestead, Audra Duveuil was sitting on the front porch, drinking iced lemonade and scratching Lucy between the ears. As soon as the hound spotted Anne-Marie and Cordero walking toward the house, she ran out in a fit of whines and wiggles to greet them. On the porch, Audra rose to her feet and smiled.
Unlike Anne-Marie, Audra was tall and slender with hair the color of onyx and eyes nearly as dark. At the age of thirty, she’d been divorced for five years and did her best to pretend that she was perfectly content to live alone.
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