Yep, piranhas, out to get a little gossip about Kath. “Jackson Taylor, ladies, of the New York Taylors. It is a pleasure to share a table with two fine Texas ladies such as yourself.”
The sisters tee-heed for a moment and then the brunette took over, waving a linen hankie as she talked about Mitchum and the “regrettable circumstances” that led to Nathaniel becoming a drunk.
“We didn’t realize our Kathleen was dating again,” Millicent said, exchanging another pointed look with her sister. “We were hoping Kathleen and our Reginald would find time to share a date or two…” she trailed off.
“Their” Kathleen? Jackson was positive these women didn’t know the first thing about the real Kathleen. And who was Reginald? Their chauffeur? Jackson had had enough. He wanted to tell these two spinsters that Kathleen was, in fact, not dating but married. He bit back the short reply, knowing it would only lead to more gossip about her after he left. Anyway, where did he get off thinking about Kathleen as his? She was no more his than she was theirs.
Still, not replying would be a different sort of admission and these two gossips would run to all of their cronies telling them that Kathleen was on the rebound again.
“Sorry, ladies, I can tell you for certain that as of this moment, Kathleen is off the dating market,” he said and left the table.
“Hello, brother.” Jackson stopped dead in his tracks near one of the French doors leading to a terrace. He turned slowly.
“Ty.” He knew he should say something more but couldn’t find words. He’d made it clear after Jackson’s college graduation there wasn’t room for both of them on the Henderson spread.
“I heard you were back, but I didn’t believe it until five seconds ago.” One of the few men dressed in a tux, Ty looked like the oil baron most people associated with Texas. The Henderson ranch wasn’t oil-rich, it was cattle rich. Maybe Ty had changed more than Jackson thought. “Are the other rumors true?”
“If you’re talking about Kathleen and Mexico, yes. We eloped.” The lie was becoming easier to spread the more Jackson said it. This time he didn’t cringe a bit.
“It won’t last, you know.” Venom filled Ty’s voice and anger burned blue eyes that were a near match to Jackson’s own. “Kathleen is more like her drunken father than old Mitchum.”
Jackson raised an eyebrow. “Actually Kathleen puts them both to shame, from what I’ve seen.” A waiter passed and Jackson grabbed flute of champagne from his tray. “Are you upset because she dumped you last Christmas or annoyed because she chose the illegitimate Henderson boy instead of the legitimate one?”
“If you’re here to try to get your portion of the ranch, it won’t work. Dad’s will was very clear.”
“Thanks to your mother.” Jackson drained his glass. “But even if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t bother. The H-Bar doesn’t interest me any more now than it did when we were kids.” He pushed through the door, allowing the cooler air outside to cool his temper. He waited several minutes before returning to the ballroom; Ty was nowhere to be found.
As Kathleen welcomed the guests and narrated a slideshow of surgeries, children helped, and clinics funded by the foundation, Jackson wondered if he’d gotten everything wrong about the Witte family.
Sure, they had money. But despite that Mitchum and Kathleen seemed to understand what the people around them needed. Mitchum created a job for his old riding buddy and this foundation for underprivileged children. Kathleen rescued horses in addition to her rehabilitation program.
Would either of them understand where he came from? Or were they like the tight-fisted donors Kathleen described to Kent, the kind who donated money just to show the world they could?
• • •
They managed to leave the benefit an hour later, with most of the guests still eating, drinking, and generally being merry. Getting dressed up was fun for the first hour or so. Three hours into the benefit and Kathleen was ready to go back to the ranch, grab her old jeans and work with the horses.
But Jackson seemed as at ease with the moneyed crowd as he seemed with everyone else he came into contact with.
Just another sign that you’re not meant to be together.
Jackson could never be happy living at the ranch. He might not mind the distance from the city after only a few days but the distance from fancy restaurants and crowds would wear on him after a while, no matter what he said about liking to travel to out of the way destinations.
Outside the hotel, Jackson told the limo driver to go ahead and then kneeled before her to take off first one and then the other stiletto. Kathleen had never been so glad to get out of a pair of shoes. The feel of Jackson’s fingers was heaven against the sensitive skin of her ankles and she barely held back a sigh.
Hooking the shoes over his index finger, Jackson led Kathleen to the walk beside the river. Fairy lights decorated most of the trees, lanterns providing more light along the bridges. She’d never taken the time to really look at the River Walk and wished she had.
Old-style Spanish architecture mingled with the more boxy, European style of building. High-end retail boutiques were mere steps away from sidewalk cafes and art galleries. The stores were closed at this time of night but she promised herself a day off soon to come back and shop. With Jackson.
“Why medical and dental care?” Jackson asked out of the blue, startling Kathleen out of her reverie. Would he be here in a few weeks to make the return trip? He was waiting for her answer. She needed to get it together.
“Because it’s needed. Most of the families in this country don’t have enough medical coverage and most have to skimp on dental and optical.” They crossed a bridge and continued down the opposite of the Riverwalk. “Grandfather’s two older brothers both died as children because the doctors couldn’t get to the ranch in time. It isn’t exactly the same thing, but when he had the money he set up the foundation so other children wouldn’t die because of a lack of medical coverage.”
Jackson said nothing and she wondered if he thought this was just the back-of-the-brochure description. It wasn’t. But to go on and on about the foundation would make it seem so. They walked in silence for a while.
Finally they arrived at the condo building.
“I hated dentists when I was a kid,” Jackson said. Dental care was a luxury, one he’d rarely experience before Children’s Services came into the picture.
“Didn’t we all? They had those horribly scary tools and they told us not to eat sweets or chew gum.” Kathleen shivered in mock horror, making Jackson chuckle. Whatever had been bothering him, it had apparently passed, but Kathleen still felt bereft that he’d once again kept something from her.
He put his arm around her shoulders and led her inside the building. He pressed the penthouse button and held her shoes up.
“I want to see you wearing these — and only these — in about five minutes.”
• • •
Several hours later, Kathleen found Jackson standing in the penthouse roof garden, staring at the San Antonio skyline. He looked content. Except for the fingers tap-tapping against the railing. What was he thinking about? If she asked would he finally share a small piece of his himself with her? It shamed her to admit, even to herself, that she was afraid to ask him more questions. Afraid he wouldn’t answer. Afraid of what that meant for their future.
There you go again, thinking about the future. She shook herself. It was better if he didn’t share, she told herself again. It would make it easier after he left if his memory now was like his memory from college — larger than life, but hollow. Knowing all his secrets would make all of this too real. Thinking about the future would only bring the heartache to her sooner.
For this moment out of time, and as many more as she could squirrel away, she would not think about the time after Jackson returned to New York. She would concentrate on the pres
ent, just as he seemed to do. No talk of the past or the future because they were too mismatched to understand each other’s past or to have a real future.
She tip-toed up to him, putting her arms around his middle. He took her hands, pulling her around so that she stood between him and the railing, looking out at the twinkling city lights. They stood like that for a moment until Jackson tipped his head, pressing his lips below her left ear At the first touch of Jackson’s lips, the craziness that had taken over her life disappeared. Turning, she pressed her lips to his, sinking into the kiss like a drowning woman who didn’t want to be rescued.
Jackson’s tongue sparred with hers and then there was only him and a hot, sultry night.
He tasted like strawberries and champagne, not surprising after the feast he’d had on her body just a few hours before. How long could this hot attraction last? Would he eventually grow tired of her body? She couldn’t foresee a future when she would ever tire of kissing, holding, and making love with him. Kathleen stepped in closer, reaching around his neck to play with the hair at his nape, bringing his mouth into closer contact with her own.
Jackson raised his hands to cradle her neck, running his thumbs seductively along her jaw. He pulled back for a minute, but kept his thumbs moving. Kathleen forced her eyes to open. In the dim light his pupils were dilated, making his eyes look black.
“You’re a wicked, wicked woman,” he said huskily.
“You’re not so saintly yourself,” she said, grinning up at him. She felt like a teenager, kissing her first real crush, which she was ready to admit she was. Kissing had never felt this way, like her belly was filled with molten lava. If he didn’t start kissing her again, she had a feeling her world would explode.
Taking her hand, Jackson led Kathleen to a couple of lounge chairs on the other side of the poolside cabanas. They sat in silence for several moments, looking at the wide expanse of sky, the glow from the city streets below and the twinkling stars above.
Was he trying to seduce her or turn her into an astronomer?
Kathleen turned her head to look at Jackson, only to find him watching her carefully. A hot zing of pleasure raced up her spine. Seduction. Definitely seduction. A man didn’t look at a woman like she was the last pork chop on the buffet unless he wanted to eat her up. So why wasn’t he making a move?
Reaching across the chair, Kathleen walked her fingers along the back of his hand. “You look you’re trying to solve the hunger crisis. What’s on your mind?”
“Not the world hunger crisis, just my own.” His deep voice filled with emotion that Kathleen couldn’t decipher. “You make me want things I shouldn’t have.”
Biting the corner of her lip, Kathleen gulped down a shot of panic.
He wanted to talk. Exactly what she had wanted ten minutes ago but now…Did she want him to remind her again that this was only temporary? No. Not yet. Just one more moment out of time. She needed a few more mind-blowing kisses, just a little while longer without proper brain function. A few moments when she was just Kathleen.
Not the heiress who would break her grandfather’s heart in a few weeks.
Not the heiress who would be looking for a job soon.
Not the glue keeping her family and the ranch together.
Not the woman who would have to learn to live without Jackson Taylor. All over again.
Was a few minutes too much to ask for? Within the next twenty days she would go back to being Kathleen Witte. She would figure out how to make Grandfather see her point of view. She would take Jester Eight to World’s. She would get over this silly crush on Jackson. Soon, but not tonight.
Damn it, she was taking the time. Couldn’t they pretend to be hidden by shadows from the bar hut, somewhere on the Malecon in Puerto Vallarta for crying out loud? What was that saying? Things stay in Mexico? Well, this was close enough. Kathleen would enjoy some time with Jackson, and then leave it here.
Vanessa and Monica would know exactly how to treat this evening. So she reached into her fuzzy, kiss drunk brain and pretended to be one of her sisters.
“I’m a big girl. Why not just take what you want?”
“You don’t know anything about me.” Kathleen couldn’t read his face in the garden shadows, but something in his voice made her try. Was that sadness? Wasn’t this exactly what he wanted? No talking, just faking their way through the next few weeks until her birthday?
Fifteen minutes, and then she would go back to worrying about this stupid situation she’d gotten them both into.
Kathleen sat up, levered herself from her chair into his, and straddled his lap. Placing a small kiss beside his mouth, Kathleen said, “You’re Jackson Taylor, world class photographer and artist.”
Another kiss, this time on the dimple in his chin.
“You’ve helped me keep Grandfather out of loop, so you’re a loyal friend.”
Her lips found his.
“You kept our secret through the gala, which means I won’t have to face even more tongue-wagging after you leave.”
Settling her mouth over his open lips, Kathleen dipped her tongue inside. His hands moved from the chair arms to her shoulders and he pushed back lightly.
“Aren’t you afraid we’ll be seen?”
Kathleen looked around the darkened rooftop. No one in sight. Probably most of the residents were still out clubbing, and some might be attending the benefit. She and Jackson were partially hidden inside the cabana, the deep shadow blanketing them. Someone would have to know what they were looking for to see anything, and since no one knew…
“Not really.” She leaned in to him, placing tiny kisses down his neck. Scooting forward, she felt his erection through his jeans and slowly rocked. Jackson groaned deep in his throat.
“You’ve been peppering me with questions about my past since we got back to Texas.”
“You can tell me anything you want or nothing at all. What is it that I should know about Jackson Taylor at this very moment?” she asked between kisses.
His hands moved to the waistband of her skirt. “Nothing comes to mind,” he said gruffly.
“Thank God,” Kathleen said and lowered her mouth to his.
With trembling hands, she framed Jackson’s face, drawing her fingers from the back of his jaw to his chin. In a quick move, his hands parted the silk folds of her robe, caressing the soft skin of her stomach. With smooth strokes, he moved his hands from her navel to just below her breasts.
Sucking on his bottom lip, she let her hands drop to his waistband, pulling his tee shirt up and over his shoulders. Letting it drop on the deck beside them, Kathleen took a moment to look at him.
His chest was tanned and strong, with a heavy layer of hair sprinkled over the skin, trailing down to a V that disappeared below the waistband of his jeans. She felt his stomach muscles bunch as she raked her fingernails over his heated skin. She loved having power over him, loved that she never got tired of looking at him.
And for just a moment, the insecure Kathleen came back.
“What do you like?” To this point, he led the way through their loving. Oh, she had touched and caressed but never set the tempo. What if…
Jackson’s left hand reached up to run through her long hair. “I like you,” he said and untied the knot in her sash, parting her robe over her breasts. For several long minutes, he rolled her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, his roughened skin playing against her softness. Kathleen moaned and arched her back, wanting a more intimate touch.
Reaching around her back, Jackson drew the robe off, dropping it to the other deck chair. Deliciously cool air brushed against Kathleen’s back and she shivered.
“Cold?” Jackson asked, pulling her closer, the movement bringing her pelvis into intimate contact with his. She could feel his erection pulsing beneath her, felt a wave of moisture dampe
n her upper thighs, and her inner muscles clench.
She shook her head, unable to talk. Kathleen didn’t think she would ever be cold again. Not as long as Jackson kept touching her.
He ran his hands over her back and she pressed her chest to his, the tiny hairs zinging sparks of pleasure through her body.
“What do you want?” he asked, echoing her question. But he already knew the answer to that question.
Reaching for his waistband, she said, “You.” The button and zipper opened and Kathleen reached her hand inside. “Just you.”
He was long and hard as she wrapped her hand around him. The pulse of his blood beating against her hand, she gripped him tighter and Jackson groaned.
His left hand pressed against her back, making her straighten in his lap, while his right hand pulled her breast to his mouth. With gentle movements, he took her nipple into his mouth, then laved it with his tongue. His left hand came around and he suckled first one breast and then the other.
Kathleen eased lower onto him using her own hands to tease and torture her body by drawing him up and down her slick folds. She allowed each movement to come closer to the beating pulse in her center but stopped short every time.
“Use me, Kath,” he urged.
He took her breast into his mouth again, then moved slightly to dip his fingers into her core; her hands raked through his hair pulling, his mouth closer still. First one finger, then two entered her and Kathleen moaned. When his thumb finally found her center, she knew she was losing control.
Her mouth met his and the thrusting of his tongue mimicked the thrusting of his fingers. He withdrew his mouth, but his fingers kept up the rhythm.
“Let go, sweetheart. Let go.” His breath was hot on her neck, sending another pleasurable shock to her system.
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