"You play dirty," he said, coming after her.
"Yeah, but it only works once." She lunged toward shore, her heart beating fast, expecting him to grab her at any moment. The anticipation of his touch was more than she could stand. On the other hand, she desperately wanted that touch.
As she ran to the pond's edge she was aware of her T-shirt clinging and wet. When she turned, expecting him to pounce, she saw him still out in the water. He dove and swam further out. Feeling a measure of disappointment, she dropped to the warm grass and squeezed the excess water from her shirt, then lay on her towel in the sun. By the time he joined her she was almost entirely dry.
Sitting up, she opened the basket and offered him a sandwich.
"So tell me where you learned that little trick?" he drawled, taking a bite. Deliberately, he shook one arm over her and cool droplets of water hit her legs.
Shading her eyes, she let her glance skim over wide brown shoulders and narrow waist, down long, hair-dusted legs. Leisurely, she pulled some of the roast beef out of her sandwich and popped it in her mouth, then licked her fingers delicately. "If you recall I have four brothers."
"I'm surprised they didn't teach you an even more foul way to get even."
She grinned innocently. "Oh, they did, but I only use that on special occasions."
He shook his head. "I've been forewarned." He ate the remainder of his sandwich and moved closer. His body blocked out the sun as he leaned over her. "You never cease to surprise me, Jacie." A dark wing of hair fell across his forehead. Her fingers itched to touch it.
"I do what I can." She allowed her glance to skim the fine shadowing of beard along his jaw.
His cool mouth grazed her cheek, then the corner of her mouth. Heat infused her body and her stomach muscles contracted. She put her sandwich down on the wrapper and lifted her mouth to his. Gently, she touched her tongue to his bottom lip, and was rewarded with his groan.
Sloan gently pushed her back to the towel. His hands were on either side of her, yet only his lips touched her. She wanted to change that. She wound her fingers through his damp hair, enjoying its silkiness, her fingers tracing down the back of his skull. She arched her body up toward him, then away. His skin felt so cool compared to her sun-heated flesh.
He followed her down, heat burning wherever they touched. She wound her arms around him, her palms stroking slowly along his back. Their kisses became less restrained. She wanted to feel the slide of his skin against her. God! He went to her head, made her punch drunk, in serious danger of losing control. Losing herself.
She suddenly tensed, a niggling doubt creeping in.
Their eyes were mere inches apart. His voice came out gritty. "We're not teenagers. Unless we want to take this one step further..." his voice trailed off, but she understood his meaning.
Oh God, she thought, I'm intoxicated. Intoxicated on Sloan. Right now she didn't care if she ever sobered up, but did she want to take that irrevocable step? It would change both of their lives forever. She closed her eyes, trying to get her bearings. In the momentary hesitation he pulled away.
She felt her limbs tremble as the heat of moments ago drained down to her toes. She jumped to her feet and he put out a quick hand to steady her.
She smiled brightly, moving away from him. "I think you're right, neither one of us wants an involvement. It's physical attraction, that's all."
"We're adults," he muttered, "we know how to handle that."
She looked at him blankly and quickly nodded, anything to end this moment. "If we're going back, I'll get dressed."
"I think it's best. We have a good ride back and the sun will be going down soon," he murmured, frowning.
Moving away before she weakened and threw herself on him, she hurriedly pulled on her clothes, intensely conscious of the tremble of her fingers.
She thought fast. To her way of thinking she had reached the end of the line. She had two choices. Either she walked away or she went to him wholeheartedly, no restrictions. Both choices scared the hell out of her. Why would this choice scare her, she wondered frantically...she jumped out of planes, she was fearless, right? Wrong. He made her lose control. With the sexual haze still gripping her, she didn't want to think of tomorrow or the day after, but she'd been gullible before.
Straightening her shoulders, she knew she couldn't open herself to that vulnerability again, not without a lot of thought. Something deep inside her knew Sloan could hurt her worse than Brad ever had, just because the depth of emotion went much deeper.
It didn’t take long to saddle the horses. At the top of the rise, Jacie cast a last look at the pond. She let her glance fall on Sloan, all too aware of the wistfulness in her heart.
Sloan was aware of Jacie, painfully so. He had called a halt down by the pond before it was too late, not that he had wanted to. He’d wanted her so bad he could taste it. He still ached with it.
He knew it was a risk, caring about a woman like Jacie. She was independent and strong, a woman with her own life.
He wondered if she would be happy here, if she even wanted to stay. Maybe this was just a summer thing for her. God knows a summer affair wasn't what he wanted. He was at a stage in his life he needed permanency and eventually a family. Maybe she was still testing the waters.
From all she had told him of her life, he figured a person like Jacie liked to move around. His mother had flitted in and out of his life for eight years, like a big sister or aunt. He didn't think he could live like that; he didn't want a wife that wasn't around. That kind of relationship would kill him. Damn! He was well and truly stuck between a rock and a hard place, and well aware he had put himself there.
§ Chapter Eleven §
Later that evening Jacie heard music drifting from the lodge. She leaned an elbow on the back deck rail, staring at the last rays of light as the sun was pulled back down the mountain. Very quickly, darkness fell. Another day ending at Timber Falls. Her stay was almost half over. At the end of the month she would be leaving.
The timed light on her deck flickered and came on, bathing her in an eerie purplish white glow.
Jacie couldn't get Sloan out of her thoughts.
The music stopped. The parking lot was crowded with cars tonight. She lifted her face to the breeze, warm and cool at the same time. That's what she felt like, she mused, hot one moment, cold the next.
Where did she stand with Sloan? Did she want to run scared, something she had never done or find out where a relationship could lead between them? God knows she wanted to trust him and herself, but she felt so muddled with emotion.
She walked around the front of her cabin, stopping as she reached the graveled drive. For a moment, she was startled to see a man’s silhouette. For just one second, she thought it was Brad. She blinked, he moved and the light overhead shone on his face.
Sloan.
Her heart pounded and her palms began to sweat. She licked her lips as she walked toward him.
"Jacie." Her name on his lips was a sensuous stroke across skin. She trembled, shuddering as if his hand had caressed her.
"So tell me," he said conversationally, "who is he?"
"Who?" She stopped in her tracks.
"The guy who's ripping at your insides," he muttered. "The one who's keeping you from me. Stop running."
It's you who's ripping at my insides, destroying my hard-won peace of mind. "I don't run away," she breathed anxiously, her fingers curling.
He moved closer. "The hell you don't." His eyes were a dark gleam as if he searched out the pain. "I’m wondering if you look at me and see someone else."
"It's not something you feel every day," she muttered defensively, turning aside. "This thing between us is pretty unsettling."
Hard fingers trailed against her cheek, pulling her chin around, but ever so gently. If he had been demanding, she would have resisted. As it was, there was no resistance, just bone-melting heat, until she met his eyes once more, then it was worse. The grimness on his face, thos
e hard lips...her remembrance of their gentle touch―she was lost, her stomach protesting his nearness with a quivering of feeling, a sensuous, all-over ache. It was almost a physical hurt, the wanting.
"What is it you want from me?" She couldn’t contain the question.
"I'm just a simple cowboy." He looped his arms around her waist. "I think you know what you want, Jacie, but you won't admit it. I get the feeling every now and then I'm getting closer, then you back up two steps."
"Maybe I want to be normal like the rest of the world."
"What's normal?" He laughed.
She nodded in agreement as one of his hands reached for hers, his fingertips sliding slowly, sensuously along her palm before taking firm possession.
He brought her one hand up to his shoulder and then reached for her other hand, gently urging her closer to the hardness of him.
"Sloan, I don't think―"
"That's right, don't think," he said, ever so gently.
Self-preservation held her frozen as she looked into his eyes, so deep and compelling in the dim lighting.
Her nostrils twitched. She could smell his aftershave. It was subtle, weaving around her, coming into her mouth with each shaky breath.
She was unable to muster a defense, her mouth for once silent. He was so damned attractive, rugged and hard as nails. God help her, this emotion she felt hurt worse than anything she had ever experienced. She knew she would never recover if she fell in love with Sloan, she sensed it with every bit of her emotion. But Lord! How she wanted to say the hell with it. How she wanted him.
"What are you doing to me?" she protested half-heartedly.
"Shh, relax, let's dance." His lips touched the top of her head, lingered.
He gently led her into a two-step. "Listen to the music."
Her body followed his, entranced by his nearness. They fit together so well. She stared at his mouth, that wanting curling through her stomach. She should make short work of this attraction, but she just kept wanting more. She leaned into him, testing his strength, enjoying his mouth as they burned across her cheekbone, then feather-soft toward her lips. She turned her head away slightly, avoiding that final contact, met those eyes so close to her own. God! She could drown in those thick lashed eyes.
Her emotions were caught in a slow spiral, a freefall different than anything she had ever known. Excitement clenched her stomach muscles and made her tremble.
"Sloan."
"You sound worried." His husky voice came against her lips.
She nodded.
"Me, too," he said, showing a flash of his teeth. "Try to relax. I promise not to have my way with you."
A laugh gurgled in her throat.
"That's it, ease up."
"I don't want―" she broke off, calling herself a liar. She did want. She wanted Sloan.
She could see the dark shadowing of hair beneath his shirt. Her fingers strayed there of their own accord, unable to resist touching him. She groaned, but pushed back from him. "I need to know something. Do you always romance your lone female guests?"
His reply came without hesitation. "No, I make it a practice to stay away from the female guests. In fact, up until you came, it was a hard and fast rule. I prefer my life the way it is." He paused, one brow lifting. "I should say the way it was. Since you arrived, life hasn't been the same."
"So tell me why me?"
"You don't give yourself much credit. Take a look in the mirror, sweetheart...I won't lie. It's what first attracted me to you. There’s a basic attraction I can’t deny, but I’m afraid it goes deeper than that."
From the first moment she had been attracted to him, the maleness of him, before she'd even had an inkling of what he was about. Now, she knew this attraction went beyond physical, there was so much more to this man. There was caring, strength and humor.
"Relationships involve vulnerability, openness...I don't know if I can do this," she admitted truthfully.
"I'm in the same boat, sweetheart," he admitted huskily. "I was almost engaged a few years back, someone I knew from my city life. She couldn’t handle the lifestyle here."
"That’s the least of it right now," she muttered. "I admit I’m all torn up inside. We have to figure out where to go from this point."
"You're one hell of a woman, Jacie."
"Does that bother you?" She made her voice light, yet her entire body tensed. "It's the way I am. I value my independence, although I admit it's taken a real shot in the arm this past year."
"You're spontaneous, untamed in everything you attempt...you hold back nothing. I admire you for it."
"But?"
"There might be some reservations, but that's my problem, not yours."
"My family credits my leap-before-you-look attitude to the fact I was born during a twister," she murmured.
"How does your father deal with your mother skydiving?"
"He loves her," she said simply. "Along the way they found common ground. I’ve been spoiled, you know. Seeing my parents together, knowing how much they love each other, you tend to want the same thing."
"When you leave will you forget about us, Jacie, the nights, the days, the spell of the Catskills?"
"I can't believe I would, though I am a city girl in and out." She mused. She stepped forward, impatient with the distance between them. "I won't forget Sloan. Not the mountains, their beauty, or...or you. You bother the hell out of me, Sloan Wright."
His arms pulled her hard against him. She pressed her face into his neck, and her voice was softer when she admitted, "I don't know why, but you do. Don't you dare laugh," she warned.
"Scout's honor, I wouldn't dare."
"You're laughing."
"Am not."
"You think I'm crazy."
He nodded slowly, his lips barely brushing across her lips. "Without a doubt. Crazy, impetuous, bold, brave. Need I go on?"
"Why stop?" she slurred, overcome with feeling. "You sound like you're just getting warmed up."
"You certainly do that to me. You're soft and warm and I find myself wanting to know more and more about you. I think you’re pretty brave for a woman who’s all soft inside."
She stepped back, pushing his hands away. "Why do you have to say stuff like that?" she demanded.
"It's true."
"There's nothing soft about me." She shook her head emphatically. "Nothing. I'm not like that."
"Really?" he drawled, dropping a kiss on her mouth. "I'll have to watch you more closely to find the real you."
She groaned, giving in to her wants and needs. His arms, his closeness just made her want more. She might be making herself vulnerable but she didn’t care. There was something special touching her where this man was concerned. She couldn't let him walk away.
She grabbed his wrists and looked down at those calloused, capable-looking hands, then lifted her glance and smiled, she couldn't help it.
"You're shivering," He ran his palms over her arms.
"Reaction." Her laugh was nervous, sounding more like a hiccup.
"I promise I don't bite." His dark head bent towards her, his lips teasing at hers. "At least, not very much."
When he leaned into her, her fingers caught in his hair, urging him closer. It was a heady sensation, kissing the man she desired. Her brain felt in a fog as desire clutched at her.
"Come to my cabin," he murmured, his lips hot along her mouth.
"My place is right here," she said, not wanting to think beyond the moment.
Jacie closed her eyes as Sloan’s fingertips brushed the hair back from her cheek. Passion held in check glinted at her from dark-lashed eyes.
Tenderness touched her, causing restless fingers to move in exploration across hard and muscled shoulders. She explored the flesh covering his ribs, tracing bone and muscle curiously.
His stomach was hard and flat, his waist narrow. Dark hair ran down to the button of his black jeans.
She stared at him, her mouth dry, afraid, yet excited.
&n
bsp; He ran his thumb along her bottom lip, pulling slightly, coming to rest on her chin. "God, you're beautiful. So beautiful."
She turned her head, met his lips in acknowledgement of their mutual passion. Her hands crept higher, cradled the back of his head, her fingers splayed through the silky strands. Her body rested against his, the trust implied. On their outing by the pond she had known this moment was not far off.
She heard his groan and rolled her head back, letting him take her full weight as she clutched at the supple, muscled skin of his back. Blindly, she learned the contours, her fingers kneading his warm flesh. Lord, he was hard all over.
"Come to me, Jacie." His voice was deeper than she had ever heard it.
She pushed upwards, pressing her body to his. He was above her, his weight on his elbows. She wanted to feel him on her, his heaviness against her, all the hardness of him. His hand splayed across her stomach, making the muscles tighten.
"Easy, Jacie, there's time."
"There's never enough," she said raggedly, knowing she must grab the moment. "Things change, this opportunity might not happen again."
"Now that I've got you, I'm not letting go."
Sloan stiffened and went still.
"Sloan?" Vaguely, she heard the squeak of the door.
"Well, isn't this cozy," a jeering voice interrupted.
A hammering began in Jacie's head. Her entire body jerked, then tensed. She looked past Sloan's shoulder at the man in the doorway to her bedroom.
"Brad!" she exclaimed hoarsely.
Brad carelessly dropped his jacket on a chair. "If I'd known the plan for tonight, I'd have arrived earlier," he remarked insolently. "Luckily, the girl at the bar directed me to the right cabin. Looks like I'm just in time. I see you got someone to stand in for me, Jacie." Wearing a tight-lipped smile, he pushed his fingers through his sandy colored hair, eyes dark and cutting in his handsome face.
She jerked her T-shirt into place and sat upright, then realized Sloan's body shielded her from Brad's view. Brad had not moved from the doorway.
"Who the hell are you?" Sloan growled.
"Ask our Jacie," Brad said carelessly. "You shouldn't leave doors unlocked if you don't want people walking in," he went on, apparently unperturbed by Sloan's anger.
Heartstealer (Women of Character) Page 16
