“Always have. Probably always will” was Lilly’s nonapologetic reply, and they both laughed. It was true.
And Yasmine wouldn’t have it any other way. Her aunt’s love and caring for her was a constant in her life, one she depended on.
“Yeah, I guess I’ve had enough of these. I’m afraid I’ve reached my limit,” she agreed.
“You look beat,” Lilly said bluntly. “Are you sure this isn’t too much?”
“I am. But I’m having a great time.” Although she was tired, having gotten up at zero-dark-thirty to catch her flight, she wasn’t ready for the party to end. Something that surprised even her, as she normally wasn’t the partygoing type.
“I think I’ll just go outside for a bit. Catch some fresh air.”
“Want me to go out with you?” her aunt asked, and Yasmine shook her head.
“No, I’ll just go for a short bit, clear my head from these,” she said and laughed. As much as she was enjoying herself and loved her aunt, Yasmine really did need a break from the festive party. Besides it being a long day, the excitement was starting to take its toll on her.
Her aunt gave her a quick hug. “Okay. You go ahead, baby. I’m sure no one will miss you for a short bit,” Lilly said, and after a second quick hug, Yasmine left.
Lilly saw the minute Holt noticed Yas leave. The entire evening she’d watched the two as they circled around each other like a stallion and a broodmare in heat. Not coming too close to each other, but both aware of the other’s presence.
Just as she guessed he would, within moments of Yasmine leaving, he quickly ended his conversation with the woman who’d been clinging to him like static the entire night, pawning her off on one of the young ranchers who willingly took the woman off his hands.
A small grin lifted the corners of Lilly’s face. It was going to be one heck of an interesting visit. She just might get her wish after all, and Yasmine would come home for good this time.
Chapter 7
The cool air hit Holt’s face and he turned up the lapels of the thick corduroy jacket he’d grabbed before making his way outside, following Yasmine.
He’d been aware of where she was at any given time throughout the entire party, and the moment he saw her make her escape out the front door, he was in hot pursuit.
And a pursuit was exactly what it was; he didn’t try and tell himself otherwise. From the moment he’d picked her up from the airport, a growing fascination with her had begun, until now he had to find her. Had to find out …
Find out what?
Hell if he knew. But he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to corner her, now that she was alone.
When Nate casually mentioned that Lilly was throwing an impromptu welcome-home party for Yasmine, he’d at first been tempted to give her warning, remembering the shy girl she’d been and unsure how she’d take such a welcome, no matter the good intentions behind it.
But the minute they’d called out “Surprise,” he’d been taken aback by the ease with which she greeted everyone, grinning widely at the bevy of faces, many of whom she didn’t know.
Throughout the party, although he’d given her space, allowing her to mingle without dogging her steps, he’d found himself smiling, drawn to her ringing laugh. And no matter where he was in the large room, or who he was talking to, he heard her laugh above the others, ringing out, drawing him in like a siren’s call.
He noticed he wasn’t alone in his attraction to her.
His foreman hadn’t left her side for more than a few moments at a time since he’d seen her. Holt had no claims on her, he knew that. Hell, he hadn’t seen her, not for any length of time, for over ten years.
But it didn’t stop the anger from brewing and the need to stride across the room and knock his foreman as well as his best friend’s teeth down his throat.
She’d made it through the crowded door, his eyes tracking her, when Jake had again found her. Holt nearly crushed the can of beer in his hand when Jake casually placed his arm around her waist.
He saw her smile and shake her head no, after several moments of conversation, before leaving the house. It was only then he released his death grip on the beer can.
Quickly he’d followed her after turning Sheila, the cousin of one of the older men, over to one of his men to keep her company. He ignored her pout, his mind solely on Yasmine as he’d left the house.
Now, as he scanned the porch and front yard, he didn’t see her anywhere. He cursed, wondering where she could have gone, when he saw a small light on in the horses’ shed near the house. Swiftly his stride ate up the distance, and once he reached the barn, he quietly opened the door and closed it tightly behind him.
“Oooh … you are a beautiful one. What’s your name? Don’t remember you here the last time I came home,” he heard her voice croon softly.
He followed the sound of her voice and stopped when he came to Gerry’s stall, the horse his brother Nate had recently purchased.
Casually he leaned against the door, watching her as she ran a hand over the horse’s muzzle, issuing cooing sounds as she fed it a treat from the palm of her hand.
“You’d never know it, but just a couple of months ago you wouldn’t have been able to get near that damn thing,” he said, his voice breaking into the silence.
Yasmine spun around, her eyes widening when she saw him. “Oh God, you scared me to death,” she said, her hand splayed over her chest.
He pushed away from the door and walked farther into the stall toward her. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to frighten you. I saw you leave the party.”
When he said nothing more, she raised a brow. “And?”
“And, I decided to follow you. Is that okay?” he asked, coming farther inside until he stood less than a foot away from her. He reached out a hand and ran it over the horse’s silky mane. Holt felt her tension as soon as he stood near her. She glanced away, back to the horse, continuing to run her hand over it.
“Won’t your girlfriend miss you?” Although her face was in profile, when she asked the question he saw the blush that stained her pretty brown skin.
“So … you did notice me,” he murmured, stopping when he was less than a foot away from her. “I wasn’t too sure of that. You seemed to have your fair amount of … attention,” he replied.
She glanced his way and rolled her eyes, then turned back to the horse, slowly running her hands over its silky nuzzle. When it butted against her hand, she withdrew two more of the sugar cubes and fed them to the questing mouth. “Who wouldn’t, with the way you two were carrying on?”
Holt laughed outright. “Carrying on? Surely that’s a bit strong, Yas,” he said, and purposely allowed his hand to brush against hers as she stroked the horse’s muzzle.
He wasn’t sure if he should be angry or pleased when she snatched her hand away as though his touch burned her.
She shrugged. “Nothing’s changed, I see.”
“Meaning?” She still kept her face in profile, but he saw the tightening of her jaw and frowned.
“Forget it.” She shook her head, blowing out a breath. “Doesn’t matter.”
He stepped closer, placing two fingers beneath her chin, forcing her to look up at him.
“No. It does matter. You matter … Now, what did you mean?”
As he stared down into her upturned face, his frown intensified when he noted the way she quickly looked away from him, as though she couldn’t stand to look at him.
“Yas …”
She brushed his hand away, forcing him to drop it at his side.
“Just forget it, Holt.”
More curious than ever, instead of dropping it, he crowded her space even more, forcing her to look up at him.
Yasmine knew she should just shut up, just let him think whatever he wanted to think. But irritation with him was riding high. He was just too damn confident. No man should look as good as he did, have a voice that deep and sexy, and ooze sex with just a few chosen words.
She inhaled a deep breath. No man should smell like he did …
He stepped closer, crowding her space even more. She turned her head to the side, avoiding … him.
“Please …”
She felt his thumb beneath her chin, lifting it and forcing her to look up at him.
“You didn’t answer my question, Yas,” he murmured, his eyes trained directly on her lips.
Her tongue snaked out to lick her bottom rim.
“Meaning you’re the same hotshot lover, the same guy who had time for every other girl but me. The same guy who …” She broke off, wanting to bite out her own tongue.
Damn him. Damn him for almost making her admit that he was the same man who had invaded her dreams in adolescence and hadn’t let up since.
Yasmine was more than disgusted with herself. She thought she had it together. Thought she could handle coming home. Thought she could be the one to turn the tables on him.
She was a certified nutcase. She had to be, in thinking she could ever teach Holt a lesson, make him see her as anything other than what he always had—that little chubby girl she had been so long ago, crushin’ on a boy who barely knew she existed.
She drew in a deep breath, the air caught at the back of her throat when she felt his long, lean fingers thumb her chin upward, forcing her to look at him.
She held the indrawn breath, her heart beating a harsh rhythm against her breast when she saw the look in his eyes … When she saw his head descend toward hers, her eyes fluttered closed.
The first touch of his lips against hers ignited a flame that blew Holt’s earlier conviction that his fascination with her was a passing thing wide apart, like a pallet of dynamite.
He slanted his mouth over hers, taking nibbling bites from her plush lower rim, pulling it inside his mouth and laving it with his tongue. She whimpered when he released it, only to glide his tongue across the seam of her lips in a sensual seesawing motion until she parted them for him, silently inviting him inside.
When he felt her tentatively reach out and wrap her arms loosely around his neck, Holt brought her closer, flush against his body, her soft curves molding against his hard body, her big, beautiful breasts pressed tightly against him.
With a groan, he tunneled a hand beneath her hair, just below the low chignon she wore, dislodging the pins that held it in place. Her hair tumbled free and he sifted his fingers through the silky strands.
He placed his other hand around the small indenture of her waist, burrowing his fingers beneath the shirt she wore, until he felt the back clasp of her bra. Deftly, he unhooked the snaps.
Before she could let out a feeble protest, just as swiftly he unbuttoned her blouse, ripping one of the buttons from the opening in his haste.
The minute his fingers connected with her breasts, he growled low, deep in the back of his throat. He palmed the underside of the large orb in one hand, his thumb pressing over her tightening nipple.
With his other hand, his fingers dug deeper into her scalp, pressing her sweet mouth closer against his, eating her soft cries as he made his sensual assault against her mouth.
He was on fire for her. What had started out as a simple need to taste her, to find out if her lips were as soft as they looked, had escalated into a blazing need that was beginning to consume him.
And damned if he didn’t want to get devoured in the blaze.
“God, you taste good, Yas.” His voice was a raspy, sexy growl of need rumbling against the corner of her mouth. His hand was shaky as he caressed the generous mound he held cupped in his hand. “So damn good,” he growled harshly, recapturing her mouth, dragging the upper swell deep inside his mouth before releasing it.
Yasmine’s body went weak.
“So do you, Holt,” she softly moaned. Even to her own ears, her voice sounded foreign, thready with the need that was running so high she could barely speak.
When his tongue snaked out and trailed a hot, scorching path from the corner of her mouth to the lobe of her ear, she arched her back, pressing herself into his hardness, her body on fire with need. Had he not held her so close, so tight against his body, she would have tumbled straight onto the floor.
“Touch me,” he rasped. He yanked at several of his buttons, ripping his shirt open before taking one of her hands from where it rested around his neck and placing it over his hard chest.
She closed her eyes, her breath coming out in strangled gasps.
Hesitantly at first, she feathered her hand over his chest. Daringly, she fingered one of his small male nipples, watching in fascination as it beaded against her fingers.
When she heard him groan, she glanced up at him. The gleam from the moon lit the shed, casting his handsome face in a sensual, harsh glow. He brought her fingers up to his mouth, opening her palm and placing a kiss in the center.
When he opened his eyes and looked down at her, the look of lust and need stamped harshly on his handsome face, she drew in a deep breath.
“I need you.”
With that, Yasmine’s heart, already beating out of control, nearly leaped from her chest.
She stared at him, reading the lust, the need and desire blazing from his bright blue gaze.
God, she’d wanted this man for her entire life, it seemed. For him to ask her … beg her, to make love to her, was something straight out of one of her fantasies.
She placed her hand over his cheek, feeling the stubble roughly caress her palm.
“Holt, I—”
“Holt, I know you’re in here, come out, come out, wherever you are,” a singsong voice called out, interrupting Yasmine before she could continue.
Chapter 8
“All settled in, sweetheart?”
Yasmine yawned hugely as she entered the kitchen, glancing over at her aunt. She could only see the back of her head, as her back was to Yasmine, her aunt’s arm reaching overhead in the process of removing a pot from its position hanging above the stove.
“I still have to unpack, but I’ll save that for later,” she said, before looking around the large, open kitchen, the blinds opened, allowing the sun to flood the airy room.
She’d always loved this kitchen, and it was the one room in the house that had remained nearly untouched, looking much as it had when she’d called the ranch home.
The kitchen had been updated with modern conveniences, yet it maintained an old-world charm. White slatted blinds covered each of the six large windows that gave the room its natural light. Terra-cotta tiles on the floor and white wood cabinets gave the room a homey ambience.
She grimaced. The minute she yawned, the pounding in her head increased tenfold.
Not only did she have a headache the size of the Teton Mountains, her eyes had been so swollen she’d barely been able to pry them open that morning, her mouth was dry as sandpaper … and she was in desperate need of mass quantities of caffeine.
“Got any coffee, Aunt Lilly?” she asked, shuffling toward one of the high-backed stools surrounding the marble counter.
Lord only knew if she could open a vein and directly infuse caffeine into her system she would. Right now she’d do just about anything to stop the little man in her head from his relentless drumming.
God, what a night.
Piggybacking that thought, images of her and Holt, what they done … what they’d almost done, flooded her mind, and she covered her eyes with her hands, as though that would make the images disappear from her mind.
She’d been moments away from giving in to something she’d fantasized about for over ten years. She’d been moments away from giving in to what his eyes, his mouth … his very touch promised he wanted to deliver. And had they not been interrupted she would have done just that. Given in to everything his carnal gaze was promising and more.
After leaving the shed last night, Yasmine had fled back to the house and found her aunt, telling her she was tired from the day’s travel and was ready to go to bed. It had taken a fair amount of willpower not to rush to her room in
order to avoid Lilly, fearing she’d read in her eyes her embarrassment and guess who was the reason.
When her aunt had seemed oblivious to her state of turmoil, Yasmine had sighed in relief, and after bidding a quick goodbye to as many people as she could, she’d been seconds away from fleeing to the sanctity of her room when her aunt’s voice stopped her.
“Before you go, Yasmine, did something … or someone, upset you?” Lilly had asked bluntly, a frown marring her otherwise unlined face.
She caught Lilly looking around, and when her eyes narrowed, Yasmine had turned in the direction she was staring and saw Holt walking through the front door, his eyes scanning the crowd.
“Oh, God, no! I mean, it’s nothing, Auntie. Nothing happened,” she said, desperate to get away. “We, uh, talked, that’s all. Really, it’s nothing. I’m just tired. It’s been a long day, and I still haven’t unpacked.”
“Would have thought you all had done enough talking on the ride home,” she said. Yasmine was seconds away from completely losing it, battling back the ridiculous tears hovering.
Finally, after one last speculative look, her aunt sighed, gave Yasmine a swift hug and asked if she needed help unpacking. Yasmine had managed to refrain from screaming out a no, she was so desperate to go to her room, already reliving the last few moments when she and Holt had been interrupted in the shed.
Not only had they been interrupted—Holt with his shirt open, hair disheveled, and she with her blouse on the floor, her bra dangling off her shoulders—but they’d been interrupted by the woman who’d been by Holt’s side the entire night, a woman Yasmine could only assume was his current girlfriend.
They’d both heard the woman’s call, and had just enough time to re-dress before she found them.
Embarrassed, Yasmine had fled, evading Holt’s outstretched hands and demands for her to remain where she was. She ran past the woman, barely cataloging her narrowed eyes as her gaze collided with hers for a brief moment.
It hadn’t helped matters in the least when, after taking her shower and wanting nothing more than to jump into bed, she’d checked her cell and seen that she’d missed four calls, and all had been from Clayton Moore.
To Love a Wilde Page 5
