by Diana Bold
He got to his feet, brushing a soft kiss to Savannah’s brow. “I’ll keep him busy.”
She nodded, tears welling up in her wide, blue eyes. He wondered what had caused them. Was she ashamed of the passion that kept flaring between them? Or were her tears for Michael? Did she wish she’d been kissing Michael just now, instead of him?
Frowning, he left her in the bedroom and reentered the main room of the cabin. Billy stood just inside the door. He scowled when he saw Tristan.
“Where’s my mother? Is she here with you?” Billy’s voice rang with accusation.
Tristan’s cheeks heated with embarrassment when he thought of what he’d been doing with the boy’s mother just moments ago. “Yes, son, she sure is. She’ll be out in a minute. She’s making the bed.”
“I ain’t your son,” Billy said angrily. “And I don’t like you being around my mother.”
Tristan’s heart broke a bit at his nephew’s words. “I know you and I got off to a bad start, and I’m real sorry if I hurt your feelings. But don’t you think maybe we could start over?”
Billy glared at him, but before the boy could answer, Savannah rushed out of the bedroom, her hair now neatly caught at her nape, her blouse buttoned all the way to her neck. Billy moved possessively to her side, and Savannah put her arm around her son’s shoulders.
The two of them belonged together. All they lacked was Michael standing between them.
Tristan had never felt quite so alone. He realized for the first time that even if he could forgive Savannah for turning to his brother, even if he somehow managed to forge a new relationship with her and her son, he could never take the place Michael still owned in their lives.
“Will you be all right down here, Tristan? Is there anything else you need?” she asked.
Tristan shook his head. “I’ll be fine,” he murmured, hoping she couldn’t hear his despair. “You’ve done more than enough already.”
She tried to smile at him, but the tiny quirk of her kiss‐swollen lips fell far from its mark. “You’re welcome to come up to the house anytime,” she told him, pulling her son toward the door.
Tristan nodded, but he didn’t think she really wanted him to take her up on the offer. Things were so complicated. This whole mess was as difficult for her as it was for him.
There had been a time when he’d thought love could conquer all, but now he wasn’t so sure.
Chapter Eleven
Savannah hugged a large wicker basket full of food to her chest, watching as Tristan exercised a pretty little bay mare. His long, lean body moved in tandem with the horse—pure poetry in motion.
Her heart ached at the sight of him. Beautiful, beautiful Tristan.
Would he hate her forever when she told him about Billy, or was it possible that the truth might bring them together again? She closed her eyes, praying for a miracle. If only he could forgive her, perhaps the three of them might finally be a family.
She’d spent the entire sleepless night practicing what to say to him, imagining a dozen different reactions. In the end, she’d decided it would be best to have total privacy for this confrontation because she didn’t have any idea what he’d do when he found out the truth.
So this morning, after she’d finished with the breakfast dishes, she’d prepared a cold lunch for Billy and her brothers and let them know not to expect her back anytime soon. Then she’d packed a picnic lunch for her and Tristan, hoping for the best. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the shadow of the barn and into the sunlight where he could see her.
“Hello,” she called, holding up the basket. “Would you like to go on a picnic?”
He turned the horse at the sound of her voice and rode over to her side, the brim of his black hat shielding his face.
“A picnic?” His voice held a note of longing she recognized all too well. “Hell, Savannah, I’d love to. But I already promised Ian I’d give this little lady a workout.”
“Then we’ll ride her down to the creek. Don’t worry. We’ll only be gone for an hour or two.” She wanted to take him swimming, eat a leisurely lunch, and then tell him about Billy. Selfish, she knew, but she wanted to have him for herself for a little while longer before he knew the truth.
Just in case he decided he never wanted to speak to her again.
He hesitated for a moment, then leaned down and plucked the basket out of her hands. “Climb on up here, sweetheart. How can I resist a picnic with a pretty girl?”
His careless endearments made her head spin. She’d give anything to keep that gentle, teasing note in his voice, anything to make him love her again.
He kicked his foot free of the stirrup, and she used it to pull herself up behind him, glad she’d had the foresight to wear her split riding skirt. She put her hands around his lean waist, exulting when his stomach muscles contracted a bit under her light touch.
No matter what else lay between them, the desire was still as strong as ever. It was the only advantage she had in her favor at the moment, and she clung to the knowledge like a life preserver in a storm‐tossed sea.
“Head west, toward the creek,” she instructed. “I have the perfect spot in mind.”
* * * * *
“We’re here,” Savannah said, coming to a sudden stop on the faint trail.
“We are?” Tristan peered over her shoulder, wondering what had made her stop.
They’d ridden the horse for about two miles and then dismounted, leaving the animal grazing beneath a big elm. Then they’d walked another quarter of a mile, passing much prettier spots than this along the way.
At this point, the creek was flanked on either side by towering cliffs of sheer granite. A large slab had fallen from one of the canyon walls long ago, blocking the flow of the water. Over time, the river had managed to erode a path through the stone, carving a channel that dropped abruptly over the far end to form a deep pool.
Savannah forged ahead, her pace quickening. There was only a tiny ribbon of land between the water and the cliff, and Tristan followed her reluctantly.
Already he regretted his impulsive decision to come on this picnic. He’d been happy to see her this morning and surprised by her invitation. But now he realized how dangerous being alone with her could be.
The more time he spent with her, the less he cared that she’d been married to Michael. He was losing all perspective, all sense of what was right and what was wrong.
All he could think about was getting her in his arms again.
Once they’d passed the narrow bridge of land, they were able to step up on the top of the granite slab, which was easily fifteen feet wide and thirty feet long. Savannah glanced back at him, her beautiful eyes shining, and spread a bright red blanket out on the smooth gray stone.
“This is the first time I’ve been able to come here this year.” She sat down on the blanket and stripped off her sturdy shoes and sheer, delicate stockings.
“What are you doing?” He crouched beside her, watching the emergence of her slim bare feet with frank appreciation. She had lovely toes, small and tapered.
She gave him a mysterious little smile and stood, unfastening her skirt and letting it pool around her ankles. He rocked back on his heels, startled, staring at the pair of white cotton bloomers that hid her legs. She laughed at his expression and raised her hands to the buttons of her bodice.
He surged to his feet and covered her hands, stopping her before she could slip her pale peach blouse from her shoulders. “What the hell are you doing?”
She waved her hand at the pool. “I’m going for a swim. I was hoping you’d join me.”
“A swim?” He’d never expected to see Miss Savannah McKenzie strip down to her underwear to go swimming. Then again, she wasn’t the innocent girl she’d once been. She was Mrs. Savannah Kane now, a fact he would be wise to remember.
“Yes, a swim. Come with me.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but the words wouldn’t come. It had been far too long since he’d
done anything simply for the fun of it. “All right. I will.”
Savannah gave him a dazzling smile. “You won’t be sorry.”
“I’m already sorry.” He held her gaze and took off his shirt, hoping to shock her as much as she’d shocked him, but she only grinned in encouragement.
“Take off your shoes, too,” she instructed, splashing into the swift water that cut across the face of the rock slab.
He kicked off his boots, placing them beside her pile of clothing. He watched in bemusement while she sat down in the middle of the channel, bracing her heels against the sides to keep from being swept away.
“Sit down behind me.” Her voice was soft and breathless, her blue eyes sparkling.
“Is it safe?” He moved toward her, torn between his heady enjoyment of the way the water molded the thin white garments to her lithe body and his reluctance to try anything that might bring a smile to his lips.
“When did you become such an old man?” She laughed and patted the stream behind her. “Don’t worry. My whole family comes here all the time. Just be careful of your shoulder.”
Feeling foolish, he sank into the cold water, angling Savannah’s slim hips between his thighs. Her soft little bottom cradled his groin, and he immediately swelled to attention.
“Put your arms around my waist.” The tremor in her voice indicated she was well aware of his arousal.
He did as she’d asked, and the intimacy of the position took his breath away. She was nestled so tightly against him, and her breasts brushed his forearm—a soft, heavy weight.
“Hang on,” she told him.
Suddenly they were hurtling along the smooth channel, pushed along by the tremendous force of the water. They shot off the rim and dropped like stones into the deep, still pool.
He broke the surface laughing. He couldn’t help it. Exhilaration and desire coursed through his blood, bringing light to his soul and temporarily driving away his demons. Savannah surfaced a second later, her auburn hair slicked back from her beautiful face.
“Oh, Tristan,” she cried, catapulting herself into his arms. “I love it when you laugh.”
His shoulder ached a bit when she hugged him, but he didn’t care. His gaze fastened on the dusky circles her nipples made against the wet, white fabric. “Thank you for bringing me here. I haven’t gone swimming in years.”
She pressed a fleeting kiss to his lips. “You’re very welcome.”
Before he could deepen the kiss as he wanted, she shoved him with all her might, making him lose his balance on the slippery bottom.
Laughing, she swam back to the other end of the pool and scampered back up to the top of the granite slab.
“Catch me if you can,” she called over her shoulder.
For a moment, he watched her lovely, unbound breasts move against the wet fabric. Then he shook his head and swam toward the edge of the pool, feeling the muscles in his shoulder loosen a bit as he did so. He pulled himself out of the water, ignoring the faint pain.
Savannah wanted him to have a little fun, and he would. Even if it killed him.
He reached the top of the chute just as she let go and shot off the edge. He smiled and sank into the river, gasping at the renewed shock of the freezing water. He didn’t go quite as fast without Savannah in his arms, but the rush of it still took his breath away.
When he came up for air, she splashed him in the face, and then swam for the bank. This time, he caught her before she could reach it. He held her tightly, and she giggled against his chest.
“You little brat.” He kissed a drop of water from her nose. “Where do you think you’re going?”
She pushed at his chest again. “Up there.” She laughed and pointed at the top of the slab.
“Do you think so?” He picked her up out of the water with his good arm and tossed her as far as he could back into the middle of the pool.
He reached the top first this time, but he waited for her. She slid in behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She pressed her cheek against his back, shivering.
“You’re freezing.” He twisted to look at her, but she kept her face hidden against the mangled expanse of his back. A wave of unbearable tenderness swept over him. A few weeks ago, he’d been ashamed of his scars, but her calm acceptance of them had gone a long way toward healing both his outer and inner wounds.
“I’m fine,” she assured him. “Let’s go again.”
He let go, and the water hurtled them forward. He sank deep into the pool and took his time coming back up to the top. Savannah hadn’t surfaced, so he slicked the hair out of his eyes, waiting for her expectantly.
Five seconds ticked by, and then five more. He turned in a slow circle, thinking she’d somehow come up behind him, but there was no sign of her.
“Savannah?” Alarm crept into his voice. Where the hell was she? Another five seconds crept by. Oh God. She’d been getting tired.
Maybe she’d hit her head on the bottom. Maybe she’d drowned...
Or maybe she was holding her breath, pinching his bottom. He spun around and leveled his most fearsome glare on her when she finally poked her head out of the water.
“Don’t ever do that again!” His fear erupted into barely controlled fury. “You scared me to death!”
The smile slipped from her lips, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Her look of genuine contrition shamed him. What an ass he was.
He’d known all along she was just fooling. Hadn’t he?
“It’s all right.” He forced a lightness he was far from feeling into his tone. “But let’s get out for a moment. Your lips are turning blue.”
She hesitated for a second, and then nodded. “I brought a couple of extra blankets. We can warm up and then eat.”
He knew he’d disappointed her. She’d probably planned to swim all afternoon. He frowned and followed her out of the water.
Would it always be this way? Would he look for danger where none existed for the rest of his life? Would he remain always alert, never able to relax and simply enjoy himself?
Savannah must think him a lunatic, yelling at her the way he had over a harmless prank. Hell, maybe he was crazy, because it no longer mattered that she’d married his brother. All he knew was that he couldn’t bear to live without her.
Chapter Twelve
Savannah dug through the picnic basket, searching for the extra blankets she’d placed on the bottom. Pulling them out, she handed one to the grim, unsmiling man beside her.
Hard to believe he’d been laughing just a few moments ago. Hiding under the water had been silly and childish, but she still didn’t understand his anger.
“Come here,” he murmured, cutting into her thoughts.
She glanced at him, and her misgivings receded. He held up one side of the blanket, inviting her to share it with him. The sun had already taken the edge off her chill, but she would never turn down an excuse to be close to him. She slid under the blanket, and he hugged her tightly, his arms looped around her waist.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was so low she barely heard him. “I didn’t mean to ruin your day.”
She rested her head on his wet chest, inhaling the crisp, cool scent of his skin, listening to the strong, rhythmic beat of his heart. “You didn’t. I was ready to get out anyway.”
He shook his head and buried his face in her hair, pulling her even closer. “Why did you bring me here? Don’t you know how hard this is for me? Being with you, touching you, holding you? You’re acting as though you still care for me, and I want so badly to believe it.”
“Then believe it.” She pressed her lips to the base of his throat. The truth came spilling out before she could stop it. “Oh, Tristan, I care about you so much it hurts.”
He cupped her chin in his hands, tilting her face up to his, forcing her to meet his intense green gaze. “I hurt, too. You’re killing me.”
With a soft cry of relief, she stoo
d on her tiptoes and covered his beautiful mouth with her own. He groaned against her lips and deepened the kiss, his tongue thrusting intimately with hers.
The heavy ridge of his erection burned through the thin barriers of clothing that separated them. Lifting her in his arms, he turned and sat her upon the tall rock ledge behind them, never breaking their kiss. She wrapped her legs around his lean waist, deepening the delicious contact. He gasped and cupped her breasts, rubbing her nipples through the wet fabric of her shift.
He finally came up for air, his breathing fast and hard, his green eyes burning with need. “If you want to stop me, stop me now.”
She held his gaze and grasped the edge of her shift, pulling it over her head, baring herself to him in answer. For a moment, he just stared at her. She’d never felt so naked, her pale flesh shimmering in the sunlight, her nipples pebble hard in the gentle breeze.
Then he made a low, masculine sound of hunger and lowered his mouth to her breast, kissing the upper swell with infinite tenderness.
She threaded her fingers through his golden hair, letting her head fall back as he feasted on her body. His gentle suckling intensified the ache in the pit of her stomach. She moved restlessly against him, impatient for the moment when they would finally be one again.
He didn’t disappoint. After several tormenting moments, he stripped away the rest of her wet clothing, baring her to his hot, hungry gaze. He paused, staring down at her.
“I’ve dreamt of this for so long,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and reverent. “You’re so beautiful. So damned beautiful.” As he spoke, he skimmed her body lightly with his hands, as though committing every inch of her to memory.
She’d worried that he wouldn’t find her pleasing, that her faint stretch marks and widened hips would disgust him, but when she saw herself reflected in his eyes, all her fears fell away. He truly did find her beautiful.
“I want to see you, too,” she whispered, amazed at her boldness.
He smiled a little, and then unfastened his trousers, shucking them and standing proudly before her. She ran her hands over the sunbaked expanse of his chest, tangling her fingers in the crisp whorls of golden hair over his heart.
