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Desert Rain with Bonus Material

Page 13

by Elizabeth Lowell


  “Oops,” Roger said. “Sorry about that, love.”

  “No problem. Beth thinks Linc can look pretty rough, too, but that’s only when he’s mad. The rest of the time he is a pussycat.”

  “Felis leo, no doubt,” Roger said dryly. “I’ve seen his kind on safari in Africa. Or behind bars. Safer that way.”

  Holly groaned and gave up.

  “At least come to the party we’re having tonight,” she said.

  “Sorry, love,” he said, meaning it. “I don’t think I can. Mrs. L’Acara—remember her, the Queen of Diamonds?—called and invited four models plus yours truly to come to a rodeo or some such thing.”

  Holly blinked. “Rodeo? Are you certain?”

  “A horse auction, barbecue, and black-tie ball is how she described it. Naturally I accepted. It sounded so terribly improbable and utterly American.”

  “It also sounds like I’ll be seeing you in a few hours,” Holly said, looking toward Beth.

  Beth nodded and whispered, “Mrs. L’Acara called yesterday and made arrangements for five more.”

  “What’s that?” Roger asked.

  “Mrs. L’Acara is bringing you to the McKenzies’ Arabian Nights gala,” Holly explained.

  “Speak of the devil,” murmured Roger. “Well, I’ll polish my best set of horns and give the old boy his due.”

  “Roger—” she began.

  “All right, love. That’s my limit on sour grapes.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Save a dance for me, beautiful lady.”

  Roger hung up before Holly could answer.

  “Your boss really likes you, doesn’t he?” Beth asked.

  “He’s a friend. No more.” She smiled. “And no less. You’ll like him, Beth. And I know he’ll like you.”

  “Why?”

  “Roger always likes beautiful women.” She yawned again. “What’s on the agenda for the morning?”

  “Linc’s still with the mare. She keeps starting labor and then stopping.”

  “Poor Linc.”

  “Poor everyone. He’ll be in a lousy mood for the party.”

  “He never was much for parties anyway, if I remember correctly,” Holly said.

  “That’s not the worst of it,” Beth said.

  “What could be worse than Linc in a snit?”

  “Mrs. Malley called last night,” Beth said. “Her sister is in intensive care. I told her to stay in Palm Springs.”

  Holly gave the girl a sidelong look.

  “That’s all right, isn’t it?” Beth asked anxiously. “We can handle the party without the housekeeper, can’t we?”

  “Looks like we get the chance to try,” Holly said, smiling. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen in ten minutes.”

  “Out back,” Beth corrected. “I’ll bring you some coffee and a bag of granola for breakfast. No time for anything more.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “That bad,” Beth said ruefully.

  Ten minutes later, freshly showered and dressed, Holly met Beth out back. Silently the girl handed over the promised breakfast.

  Munching granola and sipping coffee, Holly watched workmen. At the moment they were swarming over the ballroom-sized platform that had been erected in the McKenzies’ huge backyard. They were setting up an enormous black, red, and silver tent.

  Holly looked at Beth.

  “Rain expected?” she asked.

  “Yeah. What a pain.”

  Out beyond the pool’s extensive decks and plantings, two barbecue pits had been dug. A side of beef and a whole pig were cooking slowly. The bartender had set up his station on the side patio amid tubs of fragrant flowers.

  Although the auction didn’t begin until one o’clock, people had been arriving since nine. For the most part they stayed in the sales barn, checking out the horses.

  Inevitably, some people were more interested in visiting than in buying horses.

  Holly wasn’t even halfway through her first cup of coffee before workmen began trotting up to ask questions. Guests wandered up, interrupting with other questions.

  Beth handled most of the guests. Holly handled most of the rest.

  By noon Holly was frustrated and impatient. She had soothed caterers, chatted with unwanted guests, acted as lifeguard at the pool for two children whose mother couldn’t say no, told another couple that their five poodles couldn’t run free among the Arabians, and generally tried to put out brushfires as they flared up.

  She had done everything but see Linc, her own personal brushfire.

  Each time she started for the foaling barn, a workman grabbed her and started asking where to put this and what to do with that. She had to bite down hard on her first, irritated responses about where to put everything.

  By three o’clock, Holly was determined to get to the barn no matter who tried to stop her.

  She wasn’t even out of the backyard when a hand grabbed her arm. She turned like a cat, not bothering to hide the anger she felt.

  “Can’t it wait?” she snapped.

  Then she saw Beth’s dismayed look.

  “Sorry,” Holly said. “I didn’t know it was you. I’ve been trying to see Linc since nine and people keep grabbing my arm.”

  “That’s why I’m here,” Beth said. “He called from the barn. Shadow Dancer finally came through.”

  “A live foal?” she asked hopefully.

  “A filly. Mother and daughter are doing fine.”

  “Thank God. Sometimes with such a long birth, the foal doesn’t make it.” Holly rubbed her neck, working on knots. “How did Linc sound?”

  “Tired,” Beth said. “He apologized for losing his temper last night. I apologized, too. But . . .”

  “But?”

  “It doesn’t change how either one of us feels, does it? I mean, I still want to look older than ten and he still wants me to look like a kid. It just isn’t fair.”

  “Not much is,” Holly said wearily. “Give Linc time, honey. He needs to learn that beauty isn’t beastly.”

  Beth looked stubborn.

  “Does that mean you won’t do my hair or makeup for the dance tonight?” she asked.

  “Of course not. Eight o’clock, as agreed.”

  Beth held out her hand. “It’s a deal.”

  Holly took the girl’s hand firmly.

  “Partners in crime,” Holly said in a wry tone.

  “What crime is that?” asked a deep voice behind her. “Stealing candy?”

  She turned around and smiled rather warily at Linc.

  “Don’t ask unless you want to suspend the truce again,” she warned.

  “I didn’t want to suspend it last night. I’m sure as hell not up to a battle now.”

  Yawning, Linc rubbed his hand through his hair.

  The weariness in his face tugged at Holly’s heart. She stood on tiptoe and kissed him gently on the lips.

  “Truce, then,” Holly said. “I’m not feeling very feisty myself.”

  He pulled her closer.

  “Bad night’s sleep?” he asked.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “That’s what happens when you sleep alone,” he said too softly for Beth to overhear.

  The caterer called out to Holly from across the yard.

  She ignored him.

  The man crossed the lawn toward her with quick, determined strides.

  She groaned. “Damn that creature. He clings like lint.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Beth said, heading for the man.

  “He’s probably complaining about the kitchen again,” Holly said. “Only one microwave.”

  “If he needed two microwaves, he should have brought one of his own.”

  “That’s what I told him.”

  “Then he’ll get to hear it all over again. From a McKenzie!”

  With a poise and determination far beyond her years, Beth confronted the caterer.

  Linc grabbed Holly’s hand and pulled her toward the house. Together they tiptoed through
the kitchen and up the stairs, avoiding guests and workmen alike.

  When they reached his bedroom, Linc put the cordless phone out in the hall and shut the door. Then he stretched long and hard, flexing his back and arms.

  Slowly he began to unbutton his shirt. He winced as he shrugged out of the long sleeves.

  Holly remembered the storm, the lightning, Linc kicking free of a falling horse and landing against stone.

  “Are you still sore?” she asked.

  “Just stiff. Shadow Dancer was going to have that foal standing up or know the reason why.”

  “Too bad you speak English instead of equine. You could have told her the score.”

  Smiling wryly, Linc flexed his back again.

  “She had it lying down, finally,” he said. “After a while, she got the hang of it and I could let go of her head.”

  Holly measured the weariness lining his face.

  This isn’t the time to bring up Shannon, she thought unhappily. Linc is too tired to be rational about the subject of beautiful models.

  And he had to be rational if there was any hope for their future together.

  “What you need is a rubdown,” Holly said.

  “Just like a horse, huh?”

  “Fortunately, you’re somewhat smaller. Barely.”

  Linc smiled. “I’m a lot bigger than the newest horse on the place.”

  Laughing, she walked past him toward the bathroom. She came back with the bottle of scented oil she had used after her own shower.

  “You’ll have to wash off afterward,” she said, “but for now you can just hold your nose.”

  Linc inhaled as Holly came close.

  “Smells fresh, clean,” he said. “Like you.”

  With a muffled sigh, he lay facedown in the middle of a big bed. The only way she could reach him was to get on the bed and put a knee on either side of his hips, straddling him like a horse.

  She moved into place unselfconsciously, warmed some oil in her hands, and went to work. She started with the long, resilient muscles of his back, kneading from the waist upward.

  She leaned hard into the massage, for his muscles were as strong as they were tight.

  Linc groaned.

  “Too hard?” Holly asked.

  “Too wonderful. Who taught you how to do this?”

  “My ballet teacher. We were always pulling muscles or straining something, so he taught us how to rub out the kinks.”

  She worked in silence for a few minutes, admiring the lines of Linc’s back. His spine was a valley just wide and deep enough to accept her fingertip. On either side rose ridges of muscle that were well defined without being bulky.

  He was built like a professional swimmer, with long, smooth muscles that were both supple and powerful.

  Carefully Holly placed one elbow over a particularly knotted part of Linc’s back. She leaned down, applying a steadily increasing pressure to the knot with her elbow.

  He groaned again, but it wasn’t a complaint.

  She warmed more oil and eased forward to knead his shoulders and arms and hands right down to his fingertips. The sighs and murmurs of appreciation he gave made her smile.

  As the minutes went by, Holly worked over Linc until her hands and wrists ached, but she didn’t really notice. There was a purely sensual pleasure in touching him that was almost hypnotic.

  Until Linc, she had never thought of a man as beautiful. Handsome, yes. Pretty, all too often, especially in the modeling business. But never beautiful.

  Yet there was no other way she could describe Linc except in terms of beauty, a potent masculine beauty that enthralled her the same way deserts and mountains and storms did.

  Long after his muscles had relaxed beneath her hands, she continued stroking him. Finally she sighed, flexed her fingers, and began working on his legs.

  After a few moments Holly made an exasperated sound. The thick fabric of the jeans not only felt unpleasant to her, it prevented her from following the line of Linc’s muscles to work out the knots.

  “Are you asleep?” she whispered.

  His back shook with silent laughter.

  “Not likely, niná.”

  “Anytime your back is that tight, so are your hips and legs.”

  “So?”

  Holly slid off his legs and stood up.

  “So the jeans have to go,” she said.

  Linc rolled onto his side. He propped his head on his fist and looked at her with smoky hazel eyes.

  “If I take off my pants,” he said, “it won’t be to get my legs rubbed.”

  “Sure it will.” Holly smiled. “Trust me.”

  He rolled onto his back and stretched, watching her out of half-open eyes. Without warning his arms shot out.

  Before she realized what was happening, she was lifted off her feet and pulled over his body like a blanket. His legs wrapped around her ankles, imprisoning her.

  She felt the heat and unmistakable hardness of his arousal pressing against her.

  “It’s me I don’t trust,” Linc said bluntly. “You make me lose my head.”

  Fourteen

  Holly opened her mouth to answer Linc, but it was impossible. He had pulled her lips down against his and was giving her the kind of kiss that made her whole body tighten with pleasure.

  She didn’t fight the heady embrace. She gave herself to his passion as freely as rain gives itself to the desert.

  Slowly his tongue searched her mouth. With intense concentration he traced the delicate serrations of her teeth and probed the soft interior of her lips.

  Then he made a sound deep in his throat. Reluctantly he pulled his mouth away.

  “I want you more each time I look at you,” Linc said huskily. “If it was anyone else but you, what I feel would scare the hell out of me.”

  The ache that had never left Holly changed suddenly into a lightning stroke of desire. As she shuddered, her hips moved over his hard body in an instinctive, sensuous caress.

  “It’s the same for me,” Holly said. “It always has been. I dream of you, Linc.”

  She lowered her mouth to his, tasting him with slow, thorough strokes. His hands slid beneath her blouse until the tips of her breasts were caught between his fingers. She twisted against him, crying out with need and pleasure.

  Abruptly his hands moved, stroking down her back, fitting her over him. His long, powerful fingers cupped her hips hard against his own, rocking her, turning all of her body into one long caress over his aroused flesh.

  Hunger and pleasure burst through Holly. The explosion of sensations just made the ache worse. She dug her nails into his arms out of sheer frustration.

  “I want your hands to touch me everywhere,” she said. “I want to touch you the same way. I want your mouth to know all of me. I want mine to know all of you.”

  “Holly,” Linc said raggedly. “My God.”

  “I want your body to be part of mine,” she said, her voice shaking.

  The kiss he gave her then was like nothing she had ever experienced before. Hard, urgent, almost violent.

  Holly didn’t object. She wanted Linc in the same way. She wanted to sink into him like a rainstorm into the desert, joining them until there was no Linc, no Holly, only a net of lightning and ecstasy surrounding them like thunder.

  When he suddenly rolled aside, she could have wept in frustration. For a moment there was only the harsh sound of their breathing.

  His eyes were closed, his muscles rigid along his jaws, his hands clenched into fists.

  “Don’t you want me, Linc?” Holly asked raggedly, her voice caught between tears and desire.

  With a swift, savage motion, he took her hand and pressed it hard against his abdomen.

  Beneath her palm, the reality of his desire was heavy, blunt, rigid.

  “What do you think?” he asked through his clenched teeth.

  “Then why did you stop?”

  When Linc’s eyes opened they were more green than hazel, burning with barel
y contained passion. He was shocked by his lack of control with Holly.

  She’s a virgin, he reminded himself savagely.Somehow I’ll have to keep a better leash on my own hunger, or I’ll end up hurting her instead of giving her pleasure.

  “I want your first time to be perfect,” Linc said.

  “From what I hear, that’s not likely.”

  He didn’t argue. He was afraid she was right.

  “But I’m told the second and third and the fourth times make up for it,” Holly said, smiling slowly. “Not to mention all the others.”

  Linc drew a long, uneven breath. Holly’s smile was like paradise shimmering just beyond his reach, promising sweet, wild oblivion.

  “I don’t want to make love to you with one ear on the door, waiting for some fool guest to barge in,” he said.

  “I’ll lock it.”

  “I don’t want to love you just once and then have to get out of bed and be host to hundreds of people.”

  “Half a loaf—” she began.

  “And I for damn sure don’t want to smell like the bottom of the barn while I’m loving you,” he interrupted.

  Holly nuzzled Linc’s chest.

  “You smell like Romance to me,” she countered.

  He lifted one eyebrow in silent query. She smiled and pointed to the bottle of scented oil on the bedside table.

  “Romance,” she said.

  With a swift, powerful motion, he rolled out of bed, beyond the reach of temptation.

  Of her.

  “Only the top half of me smells good,” Linc said. “The jeans could stand up and walk without me.”

  “Have you heard of that modern convenience called a shower?” she asked.

  She got up and walked to the door that connected the master bedroom with the office. She slid the bolt home. Without looking at him, she walked to the hall door. The bolt clicked into place.

  Then Holly turned with all of her model’s grace and walked toward Linc. With each step her fingers undid another button of her blouse.

  “Now, about that shower . . .” she said.

  For an instant Holly thought Linc was going to agree.

  And so did he.

  Then he swore, stepped into the bathroom, and quickly locked the door behind him.

  Holly leaned against the door, letting the cool wood soothe her flushed body.

  “Linc?” she whispered, knowing he couldn’t hear unless he, too, was leaning against the door.

 

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