"Did you have the irresistible urge to sweat and stink today, or what?"
He turned sharply, his features immediately softening and he propped his arm on the top of the fork handle. "Does a body well to do a bit of hard work,"
"Obviously," she said, her warm gaze lingering over his bare muscled chest. She needed his nearness, the solid testimony of strength and assurity, and it drew her like a magnet.
"Off with you now." He shooed her back*. " 'Tis no place for a lady."
He received the reaction he'd expected, God love her, and Ramsey admired the confident authority in her every long-legged step.
"I never said I was a lady."
"Nor could you disclaim it." She looks upset, he thought and tried not to frown his concern.
"Anthony phoned." She plucked a sprig of hay from his hair. "Why didn't you tell me about Alexander Blackwell coming to see you?"
"Excellent," Ramsey said, incredibly pleased Dane's family had not completely perished. "I did not know any Blackwells still existed. I merely wished to purchase the shipping company."
"Why? It can't be more than just a name on paper after twenty years, if that much."
"Mayhaps." He shrugged. "His arrival is but the beginning. I owe a great deal to Dane, and to see his legacy survive is but a small effort for all he's given me."
The affection in his voice touched her. They were like brothers, she realized, and he misses him. "I wish I'd known Dane. He seems like a remarkable man."
"He'd have liked you, Penn, it' aught for that you've let me envision 'tis more than life on the sea."
"What an honor," she said, her heart hammering. "Though I don't believe you had any real help from me." It hurts just to look at him and know it might end soon, she thought, righting her despair and trying to muscle the nerve to tell him everything. Ram searched her eyes, his concern magnifying. "Penelope." She looked about to cry and he reached to brush her hair from her cheek, then saw the dirt coating his hand and drew back.
She slapped on a bright smile. "Where's the trainer?" she blurted and his brow furrowed, unease skipping down his spine. She wasn't fooling him. A'tall. "Mister Crane has left to be with his child."
She nodded, sinking into his dark eyes and finding peace. ' 'Oh yeah,'' she said as if just remembering. ' 'She had a competition today." Ram frowned his ignorance. "She's a gymnast. In fact, she was one of Tess's students."
Ram smiled, pleased she hadn't distanced herself from her employees as he imagined. "I offered to complete his tasks in his stead."
"That horse is worth a fortune and needs constant care, Ramsey."
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He braced a hand on his hip. ''Are you implying I am not qualified?"
"No." Penny wrinkled her nose. "You certainly smell like you are."
Mercilessly, he moved within a hair's breath. "When was the last occasion you rode the beast?" came in a husky tone and her insides jingled with excitement.
"Them?" she said. "They're racehorses. Professional jockeys ride them."
"Evidently not well enough. I see no ribbons." He inclined his head toward the empty trophy wall even as his gaze rolled down her body with a hot possessiveness.
"They're tax write-offs." Her claim sounded like that of a child cornered by the town bully.
"A possession owned but never enjoyed." He hurumphed, aiming his back as he switched his fork for a shovel, systematically scooping and dumping horse dung into a bucket. "Considering I don't ride, it hardly matters." He cast her a sly look she couldn't quite decipher, then dumped another pungent pile afore he hefted the bucket and strode toward the rear of the barn.
Every inch of him was defined and prominent and the muscles in his back rippled and flexed as he pitched horse crap into the bed of a truck parked out back. Her fingers clenched. The pale scars at the base of his spine glistened, arresting her for a brief instant. Whip scars. A slave. It was hard to imagine a proud man like him submitting to anyone, and deep inside she hurt for him and all he must have suffered.
"Why are you doing this, Ramsey? It could have waited." He bent over the sink to wash his hands and arms, lather foaming. "I needed to touch my time," he said, soaping his face and neck, then surprised her by dunking his head beneath the faucet's spray. He rinsed, splashing water across his chest, then straightened, flinging his head back and shaking like a puppy before pushing the hair out of his eyes and meeting her gaze.
"You miss it, don't you?" Her eyes followed the path of
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water streaming down his chest, breaking over his fiat coin nipples and soaking his trousers.
Slowly he shook his head, the pattern of her gaze leaving its telling effect on his body. "I find this century has much to offer this lowly seaman." He returned her stare, heady and captivating.
There was nothing lowly about him, she thought, yet knew he hadn't known luxury, spending the better part of his life fighting in the revolution, enslaved, or aboard a ship in small cramped quarters with rotten food, doing backbreaking work.
But who he was made her love him more.
Penny blinked, glancing away from his possessive stare. I do, she thought, a smile tugging, and she met his gaze. I always have. Archaic down to his knee boots and hippie hair, she loved him.
And she would lose him if she didn't give up diamonds that no longer existed in this century. She knew she'd do anything to keep that from happening. She wanted him forever.
Ramsey halted midstride, the look on her face catching him in the gut. Sunlight peeled into the barn, a bright wedge in the cool dark, and his sudden need to hold her close and tight and sheltering nearly overpowered him. He wanted to take her away from whatever was upsetting her and drew her horse from the stall, then slipped on a bridle.
"Wh-what are you doing?"
"Exercising the mount," he said patiently.
"You aren't supposed to ride them. Crane takes them to the track for that."
He arched a brow in her direction. "When you have a perfectly good stretch of beach?"
"Ramsey," she delivered his patient tone right back at him. "That horse costs too much to be a pleasure mount and isn't it dangerous, leaving the grounds?"
He ducked beneath the horse's neck and stepped into a stall, coming back with his pistol and a powder born and small sack dangling from a leather strap. He dropped the strap over his head and shoved the flint-lock in his waistband.
Her gaze lowered to the barrel and its obvious direction.
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"Living dangerously, I see." She took a breath and lifted her gaze. "AH that unstable fire power."
"Me or the weapon," he said, grinning lecherously, then with an agility that shouldn't have surprised her, swung up onto the horse's back. Just to see him up there, powerful and commanding, drove an unspeakable heat through her blood.
"No saddle?"
He shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers as he controlled the eager horse with one hand and offered her the other. "Come ride with me."
"No." She stepped back as the horse pranced regally.
"Mayhaps yer afraid to be alone with me again?"
The challenge made her smile. "Of course not, you arrogant antique. I'm not dressed to ride.'' She flicked a hand at her short leather skirt and Ramsey admired the length of leg exposed, the coltish limbs enhanced by her heeled shoes. The skirt, or what there was of it, was black and hugging, contrasting to the billowy sleeved white blouse. She looked delicious enough to ravish.
Still, he held out his hand. "Come with me, Penelope." The horse sidestepped impatiently. "Place your foot atop me boot and join me." She started at the mentioned boot, biting her lip. His voice was smooth and coaxing. "Be free with me." Penny lifted her gaze, excitement singing through her. It had been years since she'd done anything reckless. Except maybe, making love with him on the piano, in the shower, or hiding in a rickety warehouse waiting
to be attacked.
Ramsey sucked air in through clenched teeth when she shimmied the shirt up her thighs and placed the ball of her foot on his instep. He lifted her onto his lap, sideways, sliding his hands luxuriously down her bare legs and prying off her shoes.
"I despise spurs," he said in an intimate tone, tossing them to the floor, then shifting her leg over the horse's neck. With her skirt hiked to the top of her thighs, her position invited his touch and his hands itched to roam her warm flesh. Blood rushed to his loins, hot and quick, and he wisely repositioned his flint-lock in the back of his breeches and concentrated on handling the animal and not the bulge crowding his breeches.
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"Ready?" came in a strained whisper.
She glanced back over her shoulder and nodded as Ramsey slipped his arms around her waist and adjusted the reins. ' 'Hold tight, love." A smokiness hung in his voice as he said, " 'Tis a remarkable pleasure having such a powerful beast surgin' atween ones legs."
She colored, her lips curving in sweet innocence, her hand coming up to lightly, pat his jaw. "I believe I've already experienced that."
His deep laughter joined the dust behind them as the horse jolted out of the barn. Hooved feet clattered on the stone drive afore Ramsey angled them toward the lawn and knead the beast faster; leaving clumps of Tennessee bluegrass sod chopped and scattered in their wake. They skidded down the tree dotted slope toward the beach, heading for the azure shoreline. The animal was swift and sure-footed, fountaining sand and water glistening the silver coat, a salty mist sprinkling the riders as they raced the hemmed coastline.
"Oh God, this is great!" she shouted, laughing, her hair fanning across Ramsey's chest and shoulder as she leaned back into him.
The charger's hooves dug into the sand, laboring to capture the pleasure never allowed. Waves splashed, foam churned, their own breathing excited and swift, and Ram felt suspended in air, felt her pleasure of freedom, and then she shrieked a laugh, clear and bright and clean.
* 'Faster, faster!'' she begged and he pulled her tightly against him, bending low as the thoroughbred took the head. Their ride was nearly soundless, the splash of waves coating their speed. They raced until the horse tired, then walked for a pace to cool the mare. Ramsey stopped and slid from the animal's back, then helped her down, holding on until her legs adjusted to her weight.
"That was incredible," she said, falling against him, breathless, cherry cheeked and lush. "Thank you."
He didn't know whether or not 'twas seawater or tears he saw. " 'Tis me pleasure, lass." The reins caught in his fingers,
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he brushed whispery strands from her face, her delight like an aphrodisiac.
"You were right, about the surging beast. Sort of like fore-play."
"Foreplay?"
"All those wonderful things you do to me before you—you know—"
He chuckled, catching her full against him. "Afore you beg me to take you?" he murmured silkily, nuzzling her ear.
"Something like that." She dragged her tongue across the line of his jaw, down the column of his throat.
"Afore I push inside you," he went on mercilessly, taking her mouth beneath his and she moaned against his lips, backing up the beach. The horse nudged his shoulder, urging them along.
"I think she's jealous." Penny's hands couldn't be still, sweeping his chest, down his tight ribs.
"She smells it," he murmured into her mouth, passion building.
"What?" She gripped his waistband, pulling him up the beach to the seclusion of brambly trees.
"The hunger," came in a deep rumble as he tossed the reins over a bush.
"Smart girl." She jerked him against her, the tight contact of hip to hip fueling awareness, and she flexed against his hardness, her gaze liquid and her breath rushing along the width of his chest as her tongue circled his flat nipple, sliding up the carved muscle to his throat. She was restless, impatient, her hands stroking the firm curve of his buttocks, her mouth and tongue wreaking havoc over his skin.
Suddenly he gripped her tightly and backed her up against a gnarled tree.
"I love when you're wild for me," he murmured, his head descending. She stretched to fill the space and his lips covered hers with a crushing force. His tongue thirstily outlined her lips, and she opened for him, the intensity of his sharp thrusting tongue making her purr with pleasure.
She was a tempest in his arms, grinding against him and
Ramsey felt her urgency, a desperation, and the canopy of shade did naught to shield the heat raging atween them. She was untamed, her desire racing without control, frantic and consuming and she clutched him, molding his damp muscled back, his waist and lean hips. She drew the pistol from his breeches and let it slide to the ground, then stripped the powder horn from his chest, tossing it aside afore she brought her hand to his breeches, shaping and molding his arousal with a boldness unmatched, prying at the buttons.
"Ramsey," she gasped against his mouth. "Come to me." Her body's cadence drove him wild, her touch pushing him to the summit and he swiftly unbuttoned her blouse, shoving the fabric off her shoulders, then peeling the delicate lace cups from her breasts. She arched, offering, the locket atween the lush swells of flesh as he bent, taking her nipple into the heat of his mouth, drawing deeply. She gasped and pleaded, holding him there, driving her fingers into his hair.
"Ramsey, I need you now, I do," she whimpered, hips
thrusting, "Please,"
Her body wouldn't wait; he could feel it edging the explosion, in her ragged breath, her restless shifting. He sank to his knees. shoving the leather skirt up to her hips and hooking his thumbs in her delicate panties, drawing them down. She flexed and rocked, his every touch pushing her closer to the edge of rapture and Ramsey tossed the scrap aside and tilted her hips, spreading her afore he took her softness beneath his mouth. She cried out and he pinned her hips to the tree with fistfuls of leather and devoured her, savoring her climax, spreading her wider and tasting her sweet erotic pleasure. She quaked, a bone racking shudder, A low guttural groan sanded in her throat and she urged him to his feet, tearing at his breeches, driving her hand inside and freeing him into her palm.
' 'More, more,'' she breathed. He cupped her buttocks, lifting her and she wrapped her supple legs around his waist, sinking
onto his fullness.
Ramsey surged, imprisoning her against the tree and she laughed and choked and panted, her slickness gripping and drawing and he fought for some control in the wildness of wet
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sex and untamed lust. He thrust, her sleek body answering his rhythm. She clawed at him, bucked her hips to smash his and Ramsey had never tasted anything so wicked and free and passionate as Penelope when she wanted. He drove into her and she gripped handfuls of his hair, gazing into his eyes as each dark plunge brought them there again. Exploding. Rushing. Savage. He held her suspended, watching her climax unfold in her eyes, feeling it wrap him and squeeze and tear the last of his heart from his chest. They stared, for what fell like hours, the moment unchanged, breathing slowing. Then she smiled, pleased and sated.
A tear rolled down her cheek as she brushed his hair from his forehead, watching her movements. "You know," she sighed, "you are just plain dangerous to be around."
He chuckled deeply, glancing meaningfully at the scratches
on his shoulders. ' 'Dangerous for who?'' Her legs gripped once
and quick and he grinned at the threat, smoothing his hands
over her bare buttocks. Slowly he left and she inhaled, sharp
with pleasure. He kissed her deeply, letting her legs lower to
the sandy ground. He worked magic over her mouth and Penny
sank into the heady kiss, moaning when he pressed a cloth
between her thighs. Did she ever know anyone so caring and<
br />
giving, she wondered as he adjusted clothing, still kissing her,
still holding her.
He lifted his head, his expression serious and dark as he gazed into her eyes.
"I want you."
She moved against him. "Again?"
"Nay, Penelope. I want you—forever."
She lowered her gaze to the damp center of his chest. ' 'You don't know what you're asking."
"Aye, I do. I am too old to play games, lass, and too old not to know my heart speaks for you alone."
She pulled her shirt closed, tilting her head back against the bark. "Don't, Ramsey, you'll ruin it." She closed her eyes. Not yet, please.
"Me?" He cupped her jaw in his hands, forcing her to
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confront him. "By God, woman, I am not the one desperately ignoring what is so obvious to everyone else."
"I'm not ignoring anything." She covered his hand with her own. "Don't you know that I can feel you, taste you, without touching or seeing you?"
"Then why are you so afraid of loving me?" His tortured look pushed the words past her lips.
"Everything I've done is coming back to destroy me. And it'll hurt you."
His hands dropped to her shoulders. "More than you are bleeding me now? Damn it, Penelope, I am not the parent who left you to rot in the street so do not make me pay for the crime. I am not going anywhere."
Her gaze searched his, rapid, unsure, and she saw all her hopes hanging on a thread about to snap. "You say that now."
"Great Neptune!" He stepped back suddenly. "Naught will change how I feel for you, but I will not have my heart held hostage by your past," he declared harshly. "Speak of what keeps you from me, from everyone, and be done with it!"
He looked so threatening, so angry, and a sob caught in her throat. "I'm scared."
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