Breath whooshed from her lungs the moment he broke off the kiss, and he held her in his arms as they both panted their way back to reality. For the longest moment, neither of them moved. Instead they stood there, on Westmoreland land, with their arms wrapped around each other trying their best to breathe and regain control of their minds and bodies.
Doing so wasn’t easy and they both knew, for totally different reasons, they were in deep trouble.
* * *
“I understand you were once engaged to be married.”
Tara stopped eating abruptly and glanced up at Thorn, startled by his statement. There was a serious glint in the depths of the dark eyes looking at her. Trying to keep her features expressionless, she met his gaze and asked. “Who told you that?”
Thorn contemplated her for a long moment before saying. “One of my brothers. I can’t remember which one, though. Was it supposed to have been a secret?”
Tara gave him a considering glance. “No.”
He studied her. “So, what happened?”
Tara figured he already knew the full story and wondered why he was asking. The night of Delaney’s wedding she had been the one to catch the bouquet, and when the Westmoreland brothers had remarked that she would be next, she’d immediately told them she would never marry and had ended up telling them why.
She sighed. “Derrick, the man I was to marry decided on my wedding day at the church, in front of over three hundred guests, that he loved my maid of honor instead of me. So he stopped the wedding, asked for my forgiveness and he and the woman I’d always considered my best friend took off. They drove to Georgia and got married that same day.”
“He was a fool,” Thorn didn’t hesitate in saying before taking a sip of his coffee. He met her gaze then asked, “Are you over him?”
His question and the way he was looking at her quickened her pulse. “Yes. Why?”
“Curious.”
Tara continued eating, wondering why Thorn would be curious about her feelings for Derrick. Deciding she had given him enough information about her past, she decided she wanted to know about the woman who’d been in his past. The one who’d made him leery of getting serious about a woman.
“What about you, Thorn? Have you ever been in love?”
He met her gaze over the rim of the coffee cup he held to his lips. “Why do you ask?”
“Curious.”
He set down his cup. “I don’t know. I may have thought I was at one time, but when I take the time to analyze the situation, I don’t think I’ve ever been in love.”
Tara nodded. “But a woman has hurt you.” It was more a statement than a question.
“I think it was more disappointment than hurt. It’s hard for anyone to discover they were deceived by someone they cared about, Tara.”
She of all people knew how right he was on that one. She thought of how many times Derrick and Danielle had written to her, asking her forgiveness for deceiving her, and how many times she had tossed their letters in the trash.
“But she meant a lot to you?”
He picked up his cup and took another sip before answering. “Yes, at the time I thought she did, but I can say it was nothing but lust. What disappointed me the most was finding out I wasn’t the only man she was sleeping with, and I’m glad I used protection to the max with her. I make it a point to stay away from women who routinely have multiple bed partners.”
Tara nodded. “What did she do for a living?”
He signaled for a waitress to refill his coffee. “She’s a freelance photographer.”
“Oh.” No wonder he hadn’t been anxious to do that photo shoot, she thought. “And are you over her?”
He chuckled. Evidently he thought she had scored with that question. She was following the same line of questioning he had used on her earlier.
“Yes, I am definitely over her.” He leaned over the table, closer to her and whispered. “You, Tara Matthews, are the only woman on my agenda, and I’m counting the days until I have you in bed with me while I do all kinds of wild and wicked things to you.”
Tara swallowed as her pulse rate increased. She dropped her gaze to her plate, but the sensations that swept through her with his words forced her to meet his gaze again. The look he was giving her was dark, sexy and brooding and she knew that if things worked out the way he planned, he would have her in his bed after the race so fast it would make her head spin.
She lowered her gaze and began eating her food again. Thorn was seducing her and she couldn’t let him do that. They had already played their love games for the day. She needed to think smart and stay in control. She decided to maneuver their conversation to a safer topic.
“Why do you race?”
His mouth twitched, and a smile appeared. She knew he saw through her ploy but decided to go along with her. “I like the excitement of taking risks. I’ve always liked to compete. Motorcycle racing stimulates that side of me.”
For the next twenty minutes she listened while he talked about racing and what benefits, promotions and recognition his company would receive if he won the first race of the year, the one during Bike Week at the Daytona Speedway. He also told her about his desire one day to compete on the European circuit.
“Do you race a lot?”
“I do my share. Last year I was in a total of twelve races. That averaged out to be a race a month, so I was on the road quite a bit. The men who’re my crew chief and mechanic are the best in the business. And I also have the best damn wrench around.”
“Wrench?”
“Yeah, just like a wrench is a mechanic’s basic tool, the same holds true of a human wrench in racing. He’s the person I most depend on. I have an eighteen-wheeler that transports my bikes from race to race and wherever I go, my wrench travels with me. Racing is a team sport and if I win, my team wins.”
By the time the evening was over, Tara had received a very extensive education on motorcycle racing. For most of an hour, they had avoided bringing sex into their conversation and when they left the restaurant to head home, Tara looked at Thorn and smiled before getting on the motorcycle. Unlike the last time, when they had ended their meal with tempers flaring, tonight she had thoroughly enjoyed the time she had spent with him.
Later that night, as she lay in bed, half asleep with thoughts of Thorn running through her head, she couldn’t help but remember their conversation about birth control.
She inhaled a lengthy, deep, fortifying breath when she thought of what Thorn wanted to do to her. Closing her eyes she thought of the picture Thorn had painted at the restaurant of them in bed together. She imagined him climbing on her, straddling her and burying himself deep within her, stroking her insides, making it last while his desire raged for her at a level that wasn’t normally possible. Then finally, as she imagined him climaxing inside her, with nothing separating them, feeling everything, the complete essence of him, she felt the area around the juncture of her legs get hot and sensitive.
Tara opened her eyes. She’d better play it safe. Just in case there was a slim possibility that she and Thorn ever actually did make love, she knew she would want it just as he described. Tara decided to make an appointment with her gynecologist this week.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Tara glanced at the clock on the wall. Thorn would be arriving any minute.
She had called him at the shop asking if he knew anything about repairing a leaking faucet. It was the perfect ploy since his brothers had gone on a camping trip for the weekend. Had they been available, he would wonder why she had summoned him instead of one of them.
She nearly jumped at the sound of the doorbell. It had been a couple of days since she had seen him, and today she had a plan. She was intent on testing his control to the limit, with the hope that he would finally see that was more trouble than she was worth and a threat to his winning his race; especially if he strongly believed in this celibacy thing.
She looked down at herself before walking to the door. Althou
gh her outfit wasn’t outright provocative, she thought it would definitely grab his attention. After glancing out of the peephole in the door, she opened it.
“Thorn, thanks for coming. I really hated to bother you but that dripping faucet was driving me crazy and I knew if I didn’t get it taken care of, I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight.”
“No problem,” he said, stepping inside with a toolbox in his hand. “I’m sure this will only take a minute.”
His gaze traveled down the length of her, taking in her very short cut-off jeans and her barely-there, thin tank top. It wasn’t transparent but it might as well have been the way her nipples showed through. It left very little to the imagination.
His face turned into a frown. “You went somewhere dressed like that?”
She glanced down at herself. “What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?”
“Nothing, unless you’re looking for trouble.”
She thought about telling him that the only trouble she was looking for was standing right in front of her. Instead she rolled her eyes. “Back off, Thorn. You’re beginning to sound like Stone.”
He raised a brow. “Stone?”
“Yes, Stone. He’s on this big-brother kick.”
Thorn met her gaze. “I’m sure he is concerned about your welfare.”
“Trust me, I can take care of myself. Now, if you don’t mind, will you take a look at my faucet?”
He sighed. “Lead the way.”
Thorn wished he could take back those three words when she walked off in front of him. His blood raced fast and furiously through all parts of his body when his gaze slid to her backside. Damn, her shorts were short. Way too short. And they were as tight as tight could be. She would probably get arrested if she wore something that short and tight out in public. They stopped barely at the end of her cheeks and each step she took showed him a little of a bare behind. When she headed up the stairs he decided to stop her.
“Hey, wait. Where are we going?”
She stopped and glanced back at him over her shoulder. “Up to my room.”
He swallowed. “Why?”
Tara turned around and tried to keep her expression bland and innocent. “To fix the leaking faucet in the master bathroom.”
Thorn didn’t move. He had assumed she needed the faucet in her kitchen fixed. Hell, his control would be tested to the limit if he had to go anywhere near her bedroom.
“Is there something wrong, Thorn?”
Yes, there’s a lot of things wrong, and two years of abstinence heads the list, he thought. He reached down within to drum up some self-control that he didn’t think he had. “No, there’s nothing wrong. Show me the way,” he said.
He inhaled slowly as he followed her up the stairs and almost choked on his own breath when he walked into her bedroom. It was decorated in black, silver-gray and mauve, and everything matched—the floral print on the bedcovers, curtains and the loveseat. The room looked like her, feminine and sensuous. Even the huge bed looked like a bed intended for lovemaking more than for sleeping. He could imagine rolling around the sheets with her in that bed.
“The bathroom is this way.”
He quickly pushed the thoughts out of his mind as he followed her into the connecting bathroom.
“Do you need my help with anything?” she asked, leaning against the vanity.
His gaze moved from her face to her chest, settling on what could be seen of her breasts through the thin material of her top. At the moment, the only thing she could do for him was to give him breathing space. “No, I’ll be fine. Just give me a couple of minutes.”
“All right. I’ll be in my bedroom if you need anything.”
He lifted a brow. He’d much prefer it if she went downstairs to the kitchen, as far away from him as she could, but he decided not to tell her that. After all, it wasn’t her fault that he wanted to jump her bones.
As soon as she left, he went about checking out her faucet while trying to ignore the sound of her moving around in the bedroom. It didn’t take him any time at all to repair the faucet and he was glad of that. Now he could concentrate on getting the hell out of here. He worked his way from under her sink and stood. It had been rather quiet in her bedroom for the past couple of minutes and he hoped she was downstairs.
Wrong.
He walked out of the bathroom and saw her standing on the other side of the room wearing nothing but her skimpy top and a pair of black thong panties. Her back was to him, and as soon as he cleared his throat she snatched a short silk robe off the bed and quickly put it on.
Too late. He had seen more than he should have.
“Sorry. I thought you would be a while and decided to change into something comfortable,” she said, apologetically, looking down as she tied the belt of her robe around her waist.
He didn’t say anything. He couldn’t say anything. All he could think about was just how much of her naked skin he had seen. Damn, she looked good in a thong. His entire body began aching.
“Is it fixed?”
Her question reminded him why he was there, but couldn’t quite bring him back around. His mind was still glued to the bottom part of her although she was now decently covered. But nothing could erase from his memory what he had seen.
“Well, is it?”
He slowly moved his gaze up to her face, and without thinking twice about what he was doing, he placed his toolbox on the table in her room and quickly crossed the space separating them. He stood staring at her then took her mouth with his, and she didn’t try to resist when he thrust his tongue between her lips, tasting her with a force that shook him to the very core. And when he felt her return his kiss, mating her tongue with his, he totally lost it and began feasting greedily on her mouth.
He felt her tremble as he slid his hand down her body, reached under the short robe, spread her legs apart and then begin moving his hand between them, needing to touch her in the same intimate way he had done before.
Moments later he discovered that wasn’t enough. He had to have her. He needed to ease his thick, hot arousal into the very place he was touching.
With his free hand he began undoing his zipper while his mouth continued to plunder hers. Suddenly, she broke off the kiss.
“Thorn, we can’t. No protection. The race.”
Sanity quickly returned to Thorn with her words. He breathed in deeply and took a step back and rezipped his pants. For a moment he hadn’t cared about anything. Nothing had mattered, definitely not the fact he didn’t have any protection with him or the fact that he had completely forgotten about his vow of celibacy.
He raked a hand down his face then wished he hadn’t done that. She had been primed, ready and wet; her scent was on his hand and made his nostrils flare with wanting and desire. Her scent was woman. Hot, enticing woman.
He closed his eyes for a moment then reopened them as he slowly began backing toward the door. He picked his toolbox off the table. “Your faucet should be working just fine now,” he said, huskily. “I’ll call you.”
And as quick as she could bat an eye, he was gone.
* * *
During the following weeks, Tara threw her heart and soul into her work.
After that first attempt, she had discovered that getting Thorn to break his vow of celibacy—finding an opportunity to put her plan into action and getting him to cooperate was not easy.
He had taken her out to dinner several times and they had even gone to the movies together twice, but whenever he returned her home, he deposited her on her doorstep, kissed her goodnight and quickly got on his bike or into his car and took off. Getting under Thorn’s skin was turning out to be a monumental task.
A stomach virus that was going around kept her busy as frantic mothers lined the emergency room seeking medical care for their little ones. Twice during the past week she had worked longer hours than she normally did, but Tara was grateful to stay busy.
Nighttime for her was torture at its best. She was restless, her
mind returned to the kiss she’d shared with Thorn again and again. In an effort to help her sleep or just to occupy her mind, Delaney had given her plenty of reading materials in the way of romance novels.
That only made matters worse.
She enjoyed reading about how the hero and heroine found their way to everlasting love, but the searing passion and profound intimacy the fictional characters shared always left Tara breathless, wondering if things like that could really happen between two people.
Pushing the covers aside, Tara got out of bed. Tonight was one of those nights she felt restless. She had gone to bed early, before eight o’clock, with a book to read, and had tried falling asleep. Instead, it was almost midnight and she was still wide awake.
It was a good thing that she was off work tomorrow. She knew Thorn was spending a lot of time at his shop working on his nephew’s motorbike. Tara couldn’t wait to see the expression on AJ’s face when he received the sporty dirt bike Thorn was building especially for him. She hadn’t seen it yet, but according to the brothers it was a sweet piece of machinery. All the Westmoreland men owned motorcycles. At eleven it was time AJ got his.
More than once Tara had thought of using the pretense of wanting to see the dirt bike as an excuse to drop by Thorn’s shop unexpectedly again, but each time she got in her car and headed in that direction, she would change her mind and turn around. She’d had lunch with the brothers at Chase’s restaurant earlier in the week and they had joked among themselves about how Thorn’s mood had gone from bad to worse.
She had sat quietly, eating her meal while listening to their chatter. It seemed they knew the reason for Thorn’s mean disposition these days and openly said they wished like hell that Bike Week would hurry up and come before he drove them, as well as himself, crazy.
From the conversation around her it appeared Thorn hadn’t mentioned to his brothers that she would be going with him to Bike Week, because no one, including Delaney, had mentioned it.
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